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KiotDgraphic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  873-4503 


0 

6 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiquas 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notaa/Notaa  techniques  at  bibliographiques 


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which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
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sont  indiquAs  ci-dessous. 


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Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous. 

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Th«  copy  filmad  h«r«  has  lM«n  rvproducad  thanks 
to  th«  ganarotity  of: 

Brock  University 
St.  CathariiMi 

Tha  imagaa  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
poasibia  conaidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  originai  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  apacificationa. 


Original  copiaa  in  printad  papar  covara  ara  filmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  iaat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
•ion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copiaa  w  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
firat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
•ion,  and  anding  on  tha  Iaat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  impraaalon. 


Tha  Iaat  racordad  frama  on  aach  microfleha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  -i^^  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"),  or  tha  symbol  V  (moaning  "END"), 
whichavar  appliaa. 

Mapa.  platas,  charts,  ate.  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  radMction  ratioa.  Thoaa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  inciudoid  in  ona  axpoaura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  cornar,  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  aa  many  framaa  aa 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrama  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


1 

2 

3 

L'axamplaira  film4  fut  raproduit  grica  i  la 
gAnArositA  da: 

Brock  University 
St.  Catharines 

Laa  imagaa  suivantas  ont  iti  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattat*  da  l'axamplaira  film*,  at  an 
conformit*  avac  laa  conditions  du  contrat  da 
fllmaga. 

Laa  axamplalraa  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  an 
paplar  aat  imprimAa  sont  filmAs  w\  commanpant 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  la 
darnlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  cas.  Toua  las  autras  axamplairaa 
originaux  sont  filmto  an  commandant  par  la 
pramlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'impraasion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darniira  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
jMnprainta. 

Un  daa  symbolaa  suivanta  spparaltra  sur  la 
darniira  imaga  da  chaqua  microfichf .  salon  la 
cas:  <a  symbols  '-■^  signifia  "A  SUIVRE",  la 
symbols  V  signifia  "FIN". 

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film*s  A  daa  taux  da  rMuction  diffArants. 
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at  da  haut  an  baa.  an  pranant  la  nombra 
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TREASURY  OF  HISTORY; 


BEING 


A  HISTORY  OF  THE  WORLD: 


COMPRISINO 


<2t  (Qtnttal  i^ietors,  botl)  Ancient  anb  iSlobern, 


or 


ALL  THE  PRINCIPAL  NATIONS  OF  THE  GLOBE, 

THEIR  RISE,  FROORESS,   PRESENT   CONDITION,   ETC. 

BY  SAMUEL  MAUNDER, 

AUTHOB  or  "TUX  TBXASUBT  OF  XNOWLEDOX,"  " BIOOBAPBICAL  TBEA8UBV,"  XTa 
TO   WHICH   IS   ADDBD, 

A  COMPLETE  HISTORY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  TO  THE 

PRESENT  TIME, 

INCLUDING 

€1)0  Cdte  toat  mil)  Mtmo,  California,  etc. 

EDITED  BY  JOHN  INMAN,  ESQ. 

Ciie  tojule  BtnbelKsljeti  toltt  Numevous  lSngrab(nas,  tf«)r«8ent(ng  33attU 
Scenes,  <B;oronatfon0,  IPtocesstons,  Costumes,  p.  ■ ..  I^c. 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 

VOL    I. 


NEW  YOEK: 

HENRY     BILL. 

1851. 


:•  .  !.' 


i 


»    " 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  u  the  year  1860, 

Br  Henhy  Bill, 

In  the  Clerk's  Mce  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


6'895? 


Qi'i;(^.,-; 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EmTION. 


The  republication  of  this  valuable  work  has  been  undertaken  partly 
on  account  of  the  high  favour  with  which  it  has  been  received  in  Eng* 
land,  but  chiefly  in  consideration  of*  its  intrinsic  vulue,  arising  from  the 
felicitous  adaptation  of  the  plan  to  a  want  that  has  been  long  and  gen- 
erally felt,  and  from  the  judgment  and  fidelity  manifested  in  its  execution. 
The  idea  of  giving  in  a  single  work,  of  no  very  formidable  dimensions, 
and  at  a  price  which  brings  it  within  the  reacii  of  very  moderate  circum- 
stances, a  sufficient  outline  of  the  world's  whole  history,  and  similar  out- 
lines of  the  history  of  every  nation,  is  so  obviously  Judicious  and  appro- 
priate as  to  require  no  euloginm.  Every  person  who  cares  at  all  for  the 
acquisition  of  useful  knowledge,  must  desire  to  possess  such  a  general 
knowledge  of  past  events,  not  only  in  his  own  country  but  in  all  coun- 
tries, as  shall  enable  him  to  understand  the  perpetually  recurring  allu- 
sions that  are  found  in  almost  any  course  of  general  reading ;  because 
for  want  of  such  understanding  there  is  always  a  serious  diminution  both 
of  pleasure  and  profit,  even  in  the  perusal  of  such  works  as  are  designed 
chiefly  for  amusement.  For  instance,  most  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  novels 
are  founded  upon  history,  and  abound  with  references  to  historical  events 
and  personages,  a  want  of  some  acquaintance  with  which  detracts  so- 
riously  from  the  interest  and  delight  they  are  so  well  qualified  to  awaken 
and  so  of  most  other  works  belonging  to  the  better  class  of  what  is 
called  light  literature.  But  the  difficulty  has  been  to  obtain  this  genera, 
knowledge  without  going  through  many  boolts,  requiring  a  greater  ex- 
penditure of  time  and  money  than  most  persons  are  able  or  willing  to 
afford;  and  to  obviate  such  difficulty  has  been  the  purpose  of  Mr.  Maun- 
der. 

His  plan  has  the  me.it  of  completeness,  and  is  undoubtedly  the  best 
that  could  have  been  desired.  He  gives  first  a  general  sketch  of  ancient 
and  modern  history — a  rapid  and  comprehensive  bird's-eye  view,  as  it 
were,  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  nations,  the  most  important  incidents 
of  their  career,  and  their  relations  to  each  other;  and  after  this  he  takes 
up  the  nations  separately,  furnisiiing  a  concise  digest  of  all  that  it  is  im- 
portant  or  desirable  to  know  concerning  each,  and  thus  aflbrdmg  a  sort 
of  key  to  the  changes  and  events  that  were  more  bn>fly  indicated,  rather 
by  their  results  than  by  their  incidents,  in  the  general  sketch  or  outline 


fl  INTUUDUCTIUN. 

Thua  the  lalient  |H)iiiti  of  liiMtory  are  hroiiiflit  williin  a  manaf^eablo  cum* 
pais,  and  an  excellent  foundation  ia  laid  for  more  tliorough  and  extensive 
reading  in  reference  to  any  portion  of  tlio  world  or  any  epoch  of  which 
■  complete  knowledge  may  be  denired. 

In  the  execution  of  this  plan  the  autCior  has  been  very  luccetsful.  Hit 
notices  of  historical  events,  though  brief,  nro  lucid  and  satisfactory ;  and 
he  iracei  the  connection  of  effect  and  cause  with  singular  acunu-n  and 
generally  with  most  commendable  freedom  from  partiality  or  bias ;  thui 
supplying  a  very  good  idea  of  the  philosophy  of  history  as  well  as  of 
ihu  facts  which  history  records. 

Upon  the  portion  devoted  to  American  History  particular  attention  has 
been  bestowed  in  this  edition,  in  order  to  supply  a  deficiency  which  has 
long  been  felt  regarding  tho  events  which  have  transpired  since  the  war 
of  the  Revolution* 

While  most  historians  have  deemed  that  tho  reader  and  student  need 
to  be  particularly  well  informed  with  respect  to  every  engagement  which 
has  occurred  in  our  struggle  for  liberty,  they  have  almost  entirely  over- 
looked the  equally  important  measures  and  events  which  have  transpired 
in  cabinet  and  in  council.  To  remedy  this  neglect  has  been  aimed  at  in 
this  history,  and  consequently  the  editor  has  contented  himself  with  a 
recapitulation  of  the  battles  of  the  Revolution,  which  will  be  found  suffi- 
ciently  minute  for  the  general  reader,  and  devoted  himself  more  fully  to 
an  account  of  the  political  history  of  the  nation  since  the  close  of  the 
war,  thus  supplying  a  narrative,  which,  though  long  wanted,  has  never 
yet  been  given  in  a  connected  and  distinct  form.  In  a  word,  the  work 
will  be  found  invaluable  to  the  general  reader,  and  a  very  useful  help  to 
the  atudep* 


CONTENTS    OF   VOL.    I. 


PRELIMINARY  OBSERVATIONS, 

HllTORICAL,   ChKONOLOOICAL,   AND  OeoORAPIIIOAL  .  .  .  •      19 

Tiu  DiriatoNS  or  History •81 

GcNCRAL  History  or  Modern  Europi  .  81 

CmtONOLooY •••'88 

GiooRAPHicAL  Sketch  or  the  World •       •    89 

Divisions  or  thx  Earth 30 


INTRODUCTORY  OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL 

HISTORY. 

CHAPTER  I.— Of  tho  Origin  of  the  World,  and  tho  Primitive  Condition  of 

Mankind 83 

CHAPTER  n.— From  the  Deluge  to  the  Settlement  of  the  Jews  in  Canaan    .    35 

CHAPTER  HI.— The  Fabulous  and  Heroic  Ages,  uj  tlie  institution  of  the 

Olympic  Games 37 

CHAPTER  IV.— From  tho  institution  of  the  Olympic  Games,  to  the  death  of 

Cyrus t        .....    38 

CHAPTER  V. — From  the  erection  of  the  Persian  Empire,  to  tho  division  of 

the  Grecian  Empire  after  the  Death  of  Alexander         .        .        .        .40 

CHAPTER  VI.— From  the  Wars  of  Rome  and  Carthage,  to  the  Birth  of  Christ    41 

CHAPTER  VII. — From  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era,  to  the  appearance 

of  Mahomet 43 

CHAPTER  VIII.— From  the  rise  of  Mahomet,  to  tho  commencement  of  the 

Crusades 45 

CHAPTER  IX.— From  the  first  Crusade,  to  the  Death  of  Saladm  ...  48 

CHAPTER  X.— From  the  Death  of  Saladin,  to  the  end  of  the  Crusades .        .  53 

CHAPTER  XL— From  the  time  of  Genghis  Khan,  to  that  of  Tamerlane         .  54 

CHAPTER  XII.— From  the  time  of  Tameriane,  to  the  Sixteenth  Century     .  65 

CHAPTER  XIII.— The  Reformation,  and  progress  of  events  during  the  Six- 
teenth Century 56 


fl  CONTKNTS. 

CHAPTER  XIV. — From  tne  commencement  of  tho  S  A-euteenth  Centmy,  to 

tbe  Peace  of  Wostpliulia ...    59 

CHAPTER  XV.— From  the  Civfl  War  in  England,  to  the  Peace  of  Ryswick  .    61 

CHAPTER  XVI.— Commencement  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  to  the  Peace 

of  Utreiht .64 

CHAPTER  XVII.— The  Age  of  Charles  XII.  of  Sweden,  and  Peter  tliO  Great 

of  Russia 68 

CHAPTER  XVIII.— Tho  Affairs  of  Europe,  from  tho  establishment  of  the 

Hanoverian  Succession  in  England,  to  tlio  year  1740      .        .        .        .    7 

CHAPTER  XIX. — From  the  accession  of  the  Empress  Tliorcsa,  of  Austria,  to 

the  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle 72 

CHAPTER  XX. — Progress  of  events  during  tho  Seven  Years'  War  in  Europe, 

America,  and  the  East  Indies 7b 

CHAPTER  XXI.— From  the  conclusion  of  tho  Seven  Years'  War,  to  the  final 

partition  of  Poland 79 

'  CHAPTER  XXII. — From  the  commencement  of  the  American  War,  to  the 

recognition  of  tho  Independence  of  tho  United  States  .        .        .81 

CHAPTER  XXTII. — From  the  commencement  of  the  French  RevolutioB,  to 

the  death  of  Robespierre 82 

CHAPTER  XXIV.— From  the  establishment  of  the  French  Directorv   to  the 

Peace  of  Amiens 35 

CHAPTER  XXV. — From  the  recommencement  of  Hostilities,  to  the  treaty  of 

Tilsit 88 

CHAPTER  XXVI. — The  French  Invasion  of  Spain,  and  subsequent  Peninsu- 
lar War 89 

CHAPTER  XXVII.— From  tho  Invasion  of  Russia  by  the  French,  to  the  res- 
toration of  the  Bourbons 90 

CHAPTER  XXVIII.— From  the  return  of  Bonaparte  from  Elba,  to  the  Gen- 
eral Peace 92 

EUROPE— ASIA— AFRICA— AMERICA       ....  95 


A  SERIES  OF  SEPARATE  HISTORIES. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 

BRITISH     AND     ROMA.N     PERIOD. 

CHAPTER  I.— The  British  and  Roman  Period,  to  the  Subjugation  of  tho  Is- 
land by  the  Saxons ...  y? 

THE     HEPTARCHT. 

CHAPTER  II.— The  Heptarchy,  or  tho  seven  Kuigdoms  of  the  Saxons  in 

Britain  ....  .        ,  .  .  10* 


CONTENTS.  yli 

CHAPTER  III.— The  Hopfarchy  (coutiuued) U3 

CHAPTER  IV.— The  Heptarchy  (concluded) IK 

A  ft  O  I.0-3  AXO  .M     SIS  as. 

CHAPTER  V. — The  Anglo-Saxons  arter  the  Dissolutiou  of  the  Heptarchy.— 

Reigiis  of  Egbert,  Elhelwolf,  oud  Etlielbuld 119 

CHAPTER  VI.— Tho  reigns  of  Ethelbert  and  Ethelied  .        .        .        .123 

CHAPTER  VII.— The  reign  of  Alfred  the  Great  .        .  ...    125 

CHAPTER  Vin.— History  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  from  the  Death  of  Alfred 

the  Great  to  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Martyr       .        .  .        .     134 

CHAPTER  IX.— From  the  accession  of  Edward  the  Martyr  to  the  death  of 

Canute .  148 

CHAPTER  X.— The  reigiis  of  Harold  and  Hai-dicanuto        .        .        .        .155 

CHAPTER  XL— The  reign  of  Edward  the  Confessor    .        .  .        .     157 

CHAPTER  XII.— Tho  reign  of  Harold  tho  Second 163 

MORMANLINE. 

CHAPTER  XIII.— The  reign  of  William  I.,  usually  styled  "William  the  Con- 
queror"         167 

CHAPTER  XIV.— The  reign  of  William  I.  (continued)        .        .        .        .175 

CHAPTER  Xy.«-The  reign  of  WSiliam  II i85 

CHAPTER  XVI.— The  reign  ol  Henry  1 192 

CHAPTER  XVII.— Tho  reign  of  Stephen 203 

PLANTAOENETS. 

CHAPTER  XVIII.— The  reign  of  Henry  II. ;  preceded  by  Observationa  on 

tho  right  of  the  English  to  tenitory  hi  France 209 

CHAPTER  XIX.— The  reign  of  Henry  II.  (continued)         .        .        .        .219 

CHAPTER  XX.— The  reign  of  Henry  II.  (concluded)          ....  229 

CHAPTER  XXI.— Tho  reign  of  Richard  1 234 

CHAPTER  XXII.— The  reign  of  John  ...                ....  248 

CHAPTER  XXIIL— Tho  reign  of  Henry  III S6S 

CHAPTER  XXIV.— Tho  reign  of  Edward  1 278 

CHAPTER  XXV.— The  reign  of  Edward  II.         ...'..  896 

CHAPTER  XXVI.— The  reign  of  Edward  III. 307 

CHAPTER  XXVII.— The  reign  of  Richard  II.      ....        .  326 

HOUSE     OK     LANCASTER. 

CHAPTER  XXVIII.— The  reign  of  Hemy  IV 342 

CHAPTER  XXIX.— The  reign  of  Henry  V.          .                .                .        .    349 
CHAPTER  XXX.— The  reign  of  Henrj-  VI 359 


^j  CONTENTS, 

CHAPTER  XXXI.— The  reign  of  Henry  VI.  (continued)     ..-.870 

CHAPTEB  XXXII.— The  reign  of  Henry  VI.  (concluded)  .        •  .381 

HOCSS     or     TORK. 

CHAPTER  XXXIIL— Tho  reign  of  Edwnnd  IV. 3M 

CHAPTER  XXXIV.— Tho  reign  of  Edward  V.     .        .        .        *        .        .405 
CHAPTER  XXXV.— Tho  reign  of  Richard  III 419 

HOUSB     OP     TUDOR. 

CHAPTEB  XXXVI.— The  reign  of  Henry  VII 410 

CHAPTEll  XXXVII.— The  reign  of  Henry  VII.  (continued)  .        .    424 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII.— The  reign  of  Henry  VII.  (concluded)      .        .        .    432 

CHAPTER  XXXIX.— Tho  reign  of  Henry  VIII 438 

CHAPTER  XL.— The  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  (continued)       .        .        .        .443 
CHAPTER  XLL— The  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  (conduded)  .        .        .        .453 

CHAPTER  XLIL— The  reign  of  Edward  VI 470 

CHAPTER  XLIII.— The  reign  of  Edward  VI.  (concluded)  .  .        .    479 

CHAPTER  XLIV.— The  reign  of  Mary 485 

CHAPTER  XLV.— The  reign  of  Mary  (concluded) 498 

CHAPTER  XLVI.— The  reign  of  Elizabeth 509 

CHAPTER  XLVII.— The  reign  of  Elizabeth  (concluded)     .        .        .        .538 

H0U8B     OP     STUART. 

CHAPTER  XLVIII.— The  reign  of  James  1 547 

CHAPTER  XLIX.— Tho  reign  of  James  I.  (concluded)        .        .        .        .558 

CHAPTER  L — The  reign  of  Charles  1 567 

CHAPTER  LI.— The  reign  of  Charles  I.  (continued) 572 

CHAPTER  LIL— The  reign  of  Charles  I.  (concluded) 586 

THK     COMHONWEALTB. 

CHAPTER  LUX.— The  Commonwealth        ...  ...    693 

HOUSE     OP     STUART. 

CHAPTER  LIV.— The  reign  of  Charles  II 605 

CHAPTET?  LV.— The  reign  of  James  II.  616 

CHAPTER  LVL— The  reign  o^  WiUiam  IH. 623 

CHAPTER  LVII.— The  reign  of  Anno 628 

BOUSE     OP    BRUNSWICK. 

CHAPTER  LVIII.— The  Reign  of  George  1 634 

CHAPTER  LIX.— The  reign  of  George  11 640 


CONTENTS.  u 

f  H,aPTKR  L*     -The  reign  of  George  III.            008 

CHAPTEK  ;        —The  Reign  of  George  III.  (continued)      ....  tftiS 

CHAPTER  LXli.— The  reign  of  George  III.  (continued)     .        .        .       .886 

CHAPTER  LXIII.— The  reign  of  George  III.  (the  Regency)                .        .  702 

CHAPTER  LXIV.— The  reign  of  George  IV 71 

CHAPTER  LXV.— The  reign  of  William  IV. 780 

CHAPTER  LXVL— TKe  leign  of  Victoria 789 

8 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

VOLUME   I. 

To  faca  page 

Landing  of  Julius  Caesar 100 

BoADICEA    HARANGUING    THE    BRITISH    TrIBES 105 

York,  from  the  Ancient   Ramparts 174 

Death  op  Prince  William  and  his  Sister 201 

Hubert  and  Prince  Arthur 251 

Earl  Varenne  defending  the  Title  to  his  Estates..    .     280 
Queen  Philippa  interceding  for  the  Burgesses  of  Calais  320 

Death  of  Wat  Tyler 329 

Murder  of  the  Princes  in  the  Tower 411 

Trial  op  Queen  Catherine 452 

Trial   op  Lambert   before   Henry  VIH.,  in  Westminster 

Hall 466 

Queen  Elizabeth 509 

Surrender  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  at  Carberry  Hill  .  .   524 

Loch  Levin  Castle 525 

Charles  L  and  Armor  Bearer 567 

Trial  of  Charles  1 586 

Cromwell  dissolving  the  Long  Parliament 598 

Defeat  of  the  Dutch  Fleet  by  Blake 600 

Death  of  General  Wolfe 651 


( 


PRELIMINARY   OBSERVATIONS. 


HrSTORICAL,  CHRONOLOGICAL,    AND   GEOGRArHICAL. 


"It  is  not  without  reason,"  says  Holiin,  "that  History  has  always 
been  considered  as  the  light  of  ages,  tlie  depository  of  events,  tlie  faitiifut 
evidence  of  truth,  the  source  of  prudence  and  good  counsel,  and  the  rule 
of  conduct  and  manners.  Confined  without  it  to  the  bounds  of  the  age 
and  country  wherein  we  live,  and  sliut  up  within  the  narrow  circle  of 
such  branches  of  knowledge  as  are  peculiar  to  us,  and  the  limits  of  our 
own  private  reflections,  we  continue  in  a  kind  of  infancy,  which  leaves  us 
strangers  to  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  profoundly  ignorant  of  all  that  has 
preceded,  or  even  now  surrounds  us.  What  is  the  small  number  of  years 
that  make  up  the  longest  life,  or  what  the  extent  of  country  which  we  are 
able  to  progress  or  travel  over,  but  an  imperceptible  point  in  comparison 
to  the  vast  regions  of  the  universe,  and  the  long  series  of  ages  which  hav(i 
succeeded  one  another  since  the  creation  of  the  world  1  And  yet  all  we 
are  capable  of  knowing  must  be  limited  to  this  imperceptible  point,  unless 
we  call  in  the  study  of  History  to  our  assistance,  which  opens  to  us  every 
age  and  every  country,  keeps  np  a  correspondence  between  us  and  the 
great  men  of  antiquity,  sets  all  their  actions,  all  their  achievements,  vir- 
tues and  faults  before  our  eyes;  and,  by  the  prudent  reflections  it  either 
presents,  or  gives  us  an  opportunity  of  making,  soon  teaches  us  to  be 
wise  before  our  time,  atid  is  in  a  manner  far  superior  to  all  the  lessons  of 
the  greatest  masters.  *  *  *  It  is  History  which  fixes  the  seal  of  im 
mortality  upon  actions  truly  great,  and  sets  a  mark  of  infamy  on  vices 
which  no  after  age  can  ever  obliterate.  It  is  by  History  that  mistaken 
merit  and  oppressed  virtue,  appeal  to  the  incorruptible  tribunal  of  pos- 
terity, which  renders  them  the  justice  their  own  age  has  sometimes  refused 
them,  and  without  respect  of  persons,  and  the  fear  of  a  power  which  sub- 
sists no  more,  condemns  the  unjust  abuse  of  authority  with  inexorable 
rigour.  *  *  *  *  Thus  History,  when  it  is  well  taught,  becomes  a 
school  morality  for  all  mankind.  It  condemns  vice,  throws  off  the 
mask  from  false  virtues,  lays  open  popular  errors  and  prejudices,  dispels 
the  delusive  charms  of  riches,  and  all  the  vain  pomp  which  dazzles  the 
imagination,  and  shews,  by  a  thousand  examples,  that  arc  more  availing 
than  all  reasonings  whatsoever,  that  nothing  is  great  and  commendable 
but  honour  and  probity."  The  foregoing  exordium  is  as  just  as  it  is  elo- 
quent— as  apposite  as  it  if  complete. 

It  has  been  very  truly  remarked,  that  the  love  of  fame,  and  a  desire 
to  communicate  information,  have  influenced  men  in  almost  every  age  and 
every  nation,  to  leave  behind  them  some  memorials  ol  their  existence, 
actions  and  discoveries.  In  the  earliest  ages  of  the  .vorld,  the  mode  o! 
conveying  to  posterity  an  account  of  important  facts  was  very  vague  and 
uncertain:  the  most  obvious  and  easy  was  first  resorted  to.  Thus,  when 
Joshua  led  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel  over  the  river  .lordan,  in  a  mirac 
ulous  manner,  he  set  up  twelve  stones  for  a  memorial ;  but  it  was  neces- 
sary for  tradition  to  explain  the  cirourastanoes  whjch  gave  ri.se  to  it ;  and 


fO 


FKBLIMIMAaY  OB8BRVATION8, 


he  said  accordingly,  "When  your  children  shall  ask  their  fathers,  m 
time  to  come,  what  mean  these  stones  1  Then  ye  shall  let  vour  child- 
ren know,  saying,  Israel  came  over  this  Jordan  on  dry  land  '  (Joshua, 
c.  iv.,  V.  21.)  Poets  who  sung  to  the  harp  the  praises  ol  deceased 
warriors  at  the  tables  of  kings,  are  mentioned  by  Honier :  the  Scandi- 
navians, Gauls,  and  Germans,  had  their  bards;  and  the  savages  of  Amer- 
ica preserved  similar  memorials  in  the  wild  strains  of  their  country.  To 
supply  the  defects  of  such  oral  tradition  as  this,  founders  of  states  and 
leaders  of  colonies  gave  their  own  names  to  cities  and  kingdoms  ;  and 
national  festivals  and  games  were  exhibited  to  commemorate  extraordi- 
nary events. 

From  such  imperfect  attempts  to  rescue  the  past  from  the  ravages  of 
time  and  oblivion,  the  progress  to  inscriptions  of  various  kinds  was 
made  soon  after  the  invention  of  letters.  I'he  Babylonians  recorded  their 
first  astronomical  observations  upon  ori-k  ■ ;  and  the  mosi  ancient  monu- 
ments of  Chinese  literature  were  inscribed  upon  tables  of  stone.  In 
Greece  and  Rome  very  similar  methods  were  sometimes  idopted ;  two 
very  curious  monuments  of  wliich  are  (ill  extant — the  Arindelian  mar- 
bles, upon  which  are  inscribed,  in  Jreek  capital  letters,  some  records  of 
the  early  history  of  Greece ;  and  the  names  of  the  consuls  registered 
upon  the  Capitoline  marbles  at  Rome.  Such  w#s  the  rnde  commencement 
of  annals  and  historical  records.  But  .when,  in  succeeding  times,  nations 
became  more  civilized,  and  the  various  branches  of  literature  were  cul- 
tivated, persons  employed  themselves  in  recording  the  actions  of  their 
contemporaries,  or  their  ancestors ;  and  history  by  degrees  assumed  its 
proper  form  and  character.  At  length  "  the  great  masters  of  the  art  arose, 
and  after  repeated  essays,  produced  the  harmonious  light  and  shade,  the 
glowing  colours  and  animated  groups  of  a  perfect  picture." 

"  All  history,"  says  Dryden,  "  is  only  the  precepts  of  moral  philoso- 
phy, reduced  into  examples."  He  also  observes,  "the  laws  of  history  in 
general  are  truth  of  matter,  method,  and  clearness  of  expression.  The 
first  property  is  necessary,  to  keep  our  understanding  from  the  imposi- 
tions of  falsehood,  for  history  is  an  argument  framed  from  many  partic> 
ular  examples  or  inductions:  if  these  examples  are  not  true,  then  those 
measures  of  life  which  we  take  from  them,  will  be  false,  and  deceive  us 
in  their  consequences.  The  second  is  grounded  on  the  former;  for  if  the 
method  be  confused,  if  the  words  or  expressions  of  thought  be  obscure, 
then  the  ideas  which  we  receive  must  be  imperfect,  and  if  such,  we  are 
not  taught  by  them  what  to  elect,  or  what  to  shun.  Truth,  therefore,  is 
required  as  the  foundation  of  history,  to  inform  us ;  disposition  and  per- 
spicuity, as  the  manner  to  inform  us  plainly." 

The  manner  in  which  History  ought  to  be  studied  is  the  next  impor- 
tant consideration.  To  draw  ihe  line  of  proper  distinction,  says  a  judi- 
cious writer  on  this  subject,  is  the  tirst  object  of  the  discerning  reader. 
Let  him  not  burden  his  memory  with  events  that  ought  perhaps  to  pass 
for  fables;  let  him  not  fatigue  his  attention  with  ihe  progress  of  empires, 
or  the  succession  of  kings,  which  are  thrown  back  into  the  most  remote 
ages.  He  will  find  that  little  dependence  is  to  be  placed  upon  the  rela- 
tions of  those  affairs  in  the  Pagan  world,  which  preceded  the  invention 
of  letters,  and  were  built  upon  mere  oral  tradition.  Let  him  leave  the 
dynasties  of  the  Egyptian  kings,  the  expeditions  of  Sesostris,  Bacchus, 
and  Jason,  and  the  exploits  of  Hercules  and  Theseus,  for  poets  to  em- 
bellish, or  chronologists  to  arrange.  The  fabulous  accounts  of  these 
heroes  of  antiquity  may  remind  him  of  the  sandy  deserts,  lofty  mount- 
ains, and  frozen  oceans,  which  are  laid  down  in  the  maps  of  the  ancient 
gf!ographers,  to  conceal  their  ignorance  of  remote  countries.  Let  him 
hasten  to  firm  ground,  where  he  may  safely  stand,  and  behold  the  strik- 
ing events  and  memorable  actions  which  the  light  of  authentic  record 


HISTORICAL,  CHRONOLOGICAL  AND  aBOaRAFHICAL. 


-21 


displays  to  his  view.  They  alone  are  amply  sufn^ient  to  enrich  his  nwot- 
ory.  and  to  point  ou'  to  him  well-attested  examples  of  all  that  is  miigiiiin- 
imous,  as  well  as  all  that  is  vile ; — of  all  that  has  debased,  and  all  that 
has  ennobled  mankind. 


THE  DIVISIONS  OF  HISTORY. 

Considered  with  respect  to  the  nature  of  its  subjects,  History  may  be 
divided  into  General  and  Particular;  and  with  respect  to  time,  into  Ancient 
and  Modern. 

Ancient  History  commences  with  the  <  reation,  and  ends  in  the  year 
of  Christ  476,  with  the  destruction  of  th  Roman  empire  in  the  West 
Modern  History  commences  from  the  fah  of  that  empire,  and  extends  to 
the  present  time.  Ancient  History  is  divided  into  two  parts,  or  ages ; 
the  fabulous  and  the  historic.  The  Fabulous  Age  begins  with  the  first 
empires,  about  2000  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ,  and  closes  with  the 
foundation  of  Rome  :  a  period  which  comprehends  1240  years. 

The  Historic  Age  had  its  bcgiiming  at  the  foundation  of  Rome,  753 
years  before  Christ,  and  terminated  with  ancient  history.  The  foundation 
of  Rome  is  chosen  for  the  commencement  of  this  important  division,  be- 
cause at  that  time  the  clouds  which  were  spread  over  the  historic  page 
began  to  dissipate  daily ;  and  because  this  period,  in  the  end,  has  served 
as  an  era  for  all  the  West,  and  also  a  part  of  the  East.  This  age  pre 
sents  us  with  the  grandest  revolutions  in  Europe  and  Asia.  In  the  latter, 
the  entire  destruction  of  the  Assyrian  empire,  and  the  foundation  of  three 
celebrated  monarchies  upon  its  ruins.  In  Europe,  the  establishment  of 
the  principal  republics  of  Greece,  the  astonishing  progress  of  legislation, 
and  the  successful  cultivation  of  the  fine  arts.  This  division  embraces 
1230  years. 


GENERAL  HISTORY  OF  MODERN  EUROPE. 

The  history  of  Modern  Europe  commences  with  the  fall  of  the  Ro- 
man empire  in  the  West,  and  continues  to  the  present  time:  it  embraces 
nine  remarkable  periods,  the  epochs  of  which  are  : —  a.d.        ad. 

1.  The  fall  of  the  Western  Empire 476  to    800 

2.  The  re-establishment  of  that  empire  by  Charlemagne    .  800  "    902 

3.  The  translation  of  the  Empire  to  Germany,  by  Olho 

the  Great .^ 962  "  1074 

4.  The  accession  of  Henry  IV.  to  the  imperial  crown,  and 

the  Crusades 1074  "  1273 

5.  The  elevation  of  Rodolph  of  Hapsburg  to  the  imperial 

throne 1273  "  1453 

6.  The  fall  of  the  Empire  of  the  East    .......  1453  "  1048 

7.  The  peace  of  Westphalia 1648"  1713 

8.  The  peace  of  Utrecht 1713  "  1789 

9.  The  French  Revolution  to  the  present  time    ....  1789  "  — 

first  period. — (470 — 800.) 
In  the  fifth  century  many  of  the  modern  monarchies  of  Europe  had 
their  commencement :  the  empire  of  the  East  having  been,  about  that 
period,  brought  to  the  very  verge  of  ruin  by  the  innumerable  hosts  of  bar- 
barians from  the  north,  which  poured  in  upon  it,  and,  at  length,  subdued 
It  in  the  year  476.  The  Vandals,  the  Suevi,  and  the  Alans,  were  the  first 
adventurers.  These  were  soon  followed  by  the  Visigoths,  the  Burgun- 
dians,  the  Germans,  the  Franks,  the  Lombards,  the  Angles,  the  Saxoub. 


/   - 


29 


PllKLIMINAllY  OUSKIIVATIONS, 


and  the  Thins.  Tliese  drprodafors  Inking  dinerent  routes,  armed  with 
firi!  and  kwiipI,  soon  snlijeclcd  to  th''ir  yoke  the  terrified  victims  of  theii 
ferocity,  nnd  creeled  tlieir  coniinests  into  kingdoms. 

The  Visi;;oths,  jifter  haviiiy;  driven  out  the  Vandals,  destroyed  thr 
Ahius,  Hubihied  th(;  Suevi,  and  founded  a  new  kingdom  in  Spain. 

Tlie  Ariyels  and  tlie  Saxons  made  a  conquest  of  Britain  from  the  Ro- 
mans and  ualiv»s,  and  formed  the  Heptandiy,  or  seven  king(k)nis. 

The  lluiis  estahlished  themselves  in  I'annonia,  and  the  Germans  or 
the  hanks  of  the  Danube.  The  Heruli,  after  having  destroyed  the  West- 
ern einpire,  founded  a  stale  in  Italy,  which  continued  but  a  short  time, 
bcint;  driven  out  by  the  Ostrogoths.  Justinian  retook  Italy  from  tlieOstro- 

folhs.  The  greater  part  of  Italy  soon  after  fell  under  the  power  of  the 
.ombards,  who  formed  it  into  a  kingtiom.  The  exarchate  of  Kaveima, 
raised,  by  them,  to  the  empire  of  the  Kasf,  enjoyed  it  but  a  short  time. 
The  exarchate  being  conquered  by  Charlemagne,  was  settled,  by  him,  on 
the  Ffipe,  wliieh  may  be  properly  styled  the  epoch  of  the  temporal  gran- 
deur of  the  Roman  pontiffs,  and  of  the  real  commencement  of  the  com- 
bination of  (dnireh  and  state. 

Numerous  bodies  of  people,  from  various  countries,  having  taken  posses- 
BJon  of  Gaul,  foimded  therein  several  kingdoms,  which  were,  at  length, 
united  by  the  Franks,  under  the  name  of  France.  Plmramond  was  its 
first  UKMiarch  ;  and  under  Clovis  it  arrived  at  considerable  eminence. 
Pepin  le  Bref  (the  Short)  expelled,  in  the  person  of  Childeric  III.,  the 
race  of  Pharamond  (called  the  Merovii'glun)  from  the  throne,  and  as- 
sumed the  government.  His  son,  Charlemagne,  the  greatest  prince  of 
his  time,  retrieved  the  honour  of  France,  destroyed  the  Lombardian  mon- 
archy, and  renewed  the  empire  of  the  West,  being  himself  crowned  em- 
peror at  Rome. 

About  the  middle  of  this  period,  Mohammed,  styling  himself  a  prophet, 
by  successful  imjiosture  and  tlie  force  of  arms,  laid  the  foumlation  of  a 
considerable  empire,  tiie  Fast,  out  of  tiie  ruins  of  which  are  formed  the 
greater  part  of  the  present  existing  monarchies  in  western  Asia. 

SKCOXI)   PERIOD. — (800— 9C2.) 

Under  Charlemagne,  France  was  the  most  powerful  kingdom  of  Eu- 
rope ;  and  the  title  of  Roman  emperor  was  renewed  by  one  of  the  descend- 
ants of  the  destroyers  of  that  empire;  the  other  monarchies,  hardly 
formed,  were  eclipsed  by  the  lustre  of  this  new  kingdom. 

Spain  was  subdued  by  the  Saracens,  who  formed  a  new  kingdom  In 
the  mountains  of  Asturias.  Tiie  Moors  and  Christians  arming  agamst 
each  other,  laid  waste  this  beautiful  country. 

The  seven  Saxon  kingdoms,  which  formed  the  Heptarchy,  were  united 
by  Egbert,  who  became  the  first  king  of  England:  but  the  incursions 
of  the  Danes  prevented  that  power  from  making  any  considerable  figure 
among  the  states  of  Europe.  The  North  was  yet  plunged  in  barbarism, 
without  laws,  knowing  even  but  very  little  of  the  arts  of  the  first  neces- 
sity. 

The  French  monarchy,  which  had  risen  to  such  a  high  pitch  of  gran 
deur  under  Charlemagne,  became  weak  under  his  successors.  The  em- 
pire was  transferred  to  the  kings  of  Italy;  which  event  was  f(dlowed 
by  civil  and  foreign  wars  in  France,  in  Germany,  in  Italy;  while  the 
Hungarians,  from  Tartarj%  augmented  the  troubles.  Otho  the  Great 
Bubdued  Italy,  which  he  united  to  Gerniany  with  the  dignity  of  emperor, 
and  shewed  to  a  barbarous  age,  the  talents  of  a  hero  and  the"  wisdom  of  a 
great  legislator. 

THIRD    PERIOD. — (962 — 1074.) 

The  German  empire  during  this  period  reached  the  summit  of  its  gran- 
Jeur  under  Otho  the  Great.      Conrad  II.  joined  the  kingdom  of  Bur 


HISTORICAL,  CHiioNOLoaiCAT.  Avn  ORoaRArnioAi,         oa 

gimdy  to  Ills  possessions;  ani!  Iiis  son,  Henry  III.,  added  n  part  nf  lliiii 
gary.    This  empire  arrived  at  a  high  degree  of  power;  but  was  xomi  ;ifiei 
brought  into  a  state  of  decay  by  the  influence  of  its  nobles,  and  by  ili8 
feu(hil  government. 

Spain,  although  desolated  by  the  continual  wars  between  the  Visiifoths 
and  the  Saracens,  was  again  divided  by  the  difTerei.ces  of  woisiiip  of 
those  two  rival  nations.  In  France  the  Carlovitigian  kings  were  de. 
posed  by  the  usurpation  of  Hugh  Capet,  chief  of  the  third  or  Capclian  race 
of  kings. 

The  Danes  ravaged  England,  and  now  became  masters  of  it  under  Ca- 
nute the  Great,  who  conciliated  the  love  of  liis  new  subjects.  Kdward 
the  Confessor  succeeded  the  Danish  princes.  He  was  succeeded  by 
Harold  H.,  a  virtuous  prince  slain  in  battle  by  William  dnke  of  Nor- 
mandy, who  made  a  conquest  of  Kiigland.  At  tiie  same  lime  the  Normans 
established  themselves  in  Sicily,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  a  new  king- 
dom. 

Italy,  oppressed  by  little  tyrants,  or  devoted  to  anarchy,  oflTered  iidthing 
of  interest,  if  we  except  Venice,  which  was  every  day  extending;  its  com- 
merce. The  other  states  of  Kurop(!  did  not  ftniiish  any  important  eviiit, 
being  at  this  period  plunged  in  obscurity  and  barbarity. 

FOURTH    PKRIOD.  — (1074 — 1273.) 

The  quarrels  between  the  emperors  and  the  popes  diminished  the  gran- 
deur and  power  of  the  empire  :  the  discords  which  bejjan  under  the 
emperor,  Henry  IV.,  agitated  Germany  and  Itidy  during  several  centuries; 
the  factions  of  the  Guelphs  and  the  (ihibelines  (the  one  partisans  of  iho 
popes,  and  the  other  of  the  emperors)  were  alternately  destroying  each 
other.  Frederic  I.  and  Frederic  II.  endeavored  to  upliold  the  majesty 
of  the  empire;  but  the  house  of  HohenstanfTen  at  length  yielded :  they 
were  despoiled  of  their  possessions,  and  driven  from  the  tlirone.  The 
empire  was  much  weakened  by  the  iiicipacity  of  it.s  chiefs,  the  disniiion 
of  its  members,  and  the  authority  of  the  popes,  ever  aiming'  at  tlioir  fur- 
ther aggrandizement.  The  Crusades  commenced:  a  part  of  Asia  Minor, 
Syria  and  Palestine,  were  presently  wrested  from  the  infidels;  and  the 
banner  of  the  cross  was  planted  on  Mount  Sion.  In  the  meantime  liio 
crusaders  established  a  kingdom  in  Jerusalem,  which  was  of  short  dura- 
tion. It  was  during  the  time  oT  the  crusades,  that  the  Greek  empire,  sap- 
ped to  its  foundation,  passed  to  the  Latins.  Michael  Paleologiis,  einpfsror 
of  Nice,  retook  Constantinople.  The  Crusades  finsihed  in  l'23l.  It  is 
said,  that  to  them  was  owing  the  origin  of  armorial  bearings,  military 
orders,  and  tournaments. 

Spain  continued  to  be  the  theatre  of  wars  between  the  Christiaii  kings 
and  the  Moors.  The  kings  of  Castile,  Arra^on,  and  Navarre  signalized 
themselves  by  their  conquests  over  the  Saracens. 

In  France,  the  number  of  great  vassals  was  somewhat  diminished;  but 
the  continental  wars  with  the  Knglisli  exhausted  it  both  of  men  and  ii\oney. 

The  power  of  Kngland  increased  considerably  ;  the  navy  l)ecuin(!  puis- 
sant; and,  in  consequence  of  the  civil  wars  between  the  king  and  the 
people,  the  royal  authority  became  more  weakened,  and  a  preponderance 
was  given  to  democratical  institutions. 

The  provinces  of  Naples  and  Sicily  were  erected  into  a  kingdom. 
Roger,  prince  of  Normandy,  was  the  first  king;  and  his  family  possessed 
the  crown  till  1194.  It  them  passed  into  the  house  of  Hohenstauffen, 
which  house  was  dispossessed  by  that  of  Anjon. 

Denmark  increased  in  power  imder  Walidemar  H.,  but  the  influence 
of  Sweden  seemed  to  be  of  little  weight  in  the  European  system. 

Ru«sia  groaned  under  the  yoke  of  the  Tartars,  who  also  made  incur- 
sions iu^o  Poland.    Bohemia,  and  the  island  of  Sardinia,  were  erected 


§1  PHKLIMINARY  O  BSE  11  VAT  IONS, 

into  kingdoms.  Gonoa  and  Venice  wore  increasing  in  power :  by  the 
•trength  of  their  navies,  they  supported  an  extensive  commerce.  Ven- 
ice becamn  possessed  of  Dalmatia,  and  a  part  of  the  Islands  in  the  Ar- 
chipelago. 

rifTH  PERIOD.— (1273— 1453.) 
The  states  of  Europe  enjoyed  an  equality  or  equilibrium  during  this 
period.  Rome  alone  seemed  to  possess  superior  power  at  first,  but  this 
power  very  soon  diminished  considerably :  it  laboured  without  eflect  to 
drive  the  Ghibelincs  out  of  Italy,  and  to  reunite  the  Greeks  to  the  church. 
The  empire  of  Germany,  confined  to  its  own  limits,  underwent  some 
changes.  Its  chaotic  government  was  rendered  somewhat  more  clear; 
and  emperors  of  different  houses  successively  occupied  the  throne.  At 
the  death  of  Sin:ismund,  Albert  II.,  of  the  house  of  Hapsbnrg,  or  Austria, 
was  elected ;  from  which  lime  to  the  present  day,  this  family,  with  little 
exception,  have  possessed  the  imperial  crown. 

Friiiicc  was  considerably  agitated  by  intestine  fends,  but  became  more 
powerful  by  the  expulsion  of  the  English.  Legislation  and  police  were 
beginning  to  be  understood,  which  served  to  soften  the  manners  of  the 
people,  and  promote  the  tranquillity  of  the  nation. 

Edward  111.  rendered  England  the  terror  of  its  neighbours :  he  held  at 
the  same  time  three  kings  prisoners;  and  France  was  reduced,  by  his 
prowess,  to  the  condition  of  an  humble  supplicant.  'I'ho  factions  of  the 
red  and  white  roses,  (the  first  as  vhe  supporters  of  the  title  of  the  house 
of  Lancaster,  and  the  latter  that  of  York,)  were  deluging  their  native 
land  with  the  blood  of  each  other  at  the  close  of  this  period. 

Spain  continued  to  enrich  itself  with  the  spoils  of  the  Saracens ;  who, 
notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  the  Spaniards,  were  yet  masters  of  all  the 
southern  parts.  In  Portugal,  the  legitimate  descendants  of  Henry  became 
extinct,  and  an  illegitimate  prince  of  the  same  house  ascended  the 
throne.  Sicily  was  taken  by  Peter  of  Arragon,  of  the  house  of  Anjou, 
who  also  held  the  kingdom  of  Naples.  Margaret,  queen  of  Denmark, 
the  Semiraniis  of  the  north,  united  in  her  person  the  three  crowns  of 
Denmark,  Sweden  and  Norway.  This  union,  made  at  Calmar,  continued 
mt  a  short  time.  The  Swedes  broke  the  treaty,  and  choose  for  them- 
selves a  king. 

Russia,  (hitherto  under  the  yoke  of  the  Tartars)  was  delivered  from 
slavery  atvd  obscurity.  In  Poland,  the  royal  dignity  began  to  have  per- 
manency. In  Hungary,  the  house  of  Anjou  mounted  the  throne;  the 
crown  of  which,  as  well  as  that  of  Bohemia,  soon  after  passed  to  the 
house  of  Austria. 

Othman,  sultan  of  the  Turks,  erected  a  monarchy,  which  arrived  to 
great  power  under  Mohammed  II.  This  prince  took  Constantinople,  and 
put  an  end  to  the  empire  of  the  East.  The  consequence  resulting  from 
the  capture  of  this  fine  city,  was  a  reflux  of  letters  from  the  East  to  the 
West,  which  contributed  to  the  establishment  of  the  arts.  Printing,  en 
graving  of  prints,  papermaking,  painting  in  oil,  gunpowder,  and  the  mar 
iner's  compass,  were  the  principal,  among  many  other  useful  inventions, 

SIXTH  PERIOD.— (1453 — 1648.) 

The  history  of  Europe  during  this  period  becomes  very  interesting. 
The  discovery  of  the  East  Indies  and  America,  and  the  great  changes 
brought  about  in  religious  opinions  by  the  successful  endeavours  of  Luther, 
Calvin,  and  others,  gave  a  new  appearance  to  many  states  in  this  quarter 
of  the  world. 

The  house  of  Austria  increased  in  territorial  possessions.  Europe 
appeared  like  a  vast  republic,  the  balance  of  power  therein  being  at  thi» 
time  on  a  better  fooling  than  it  was  in  Ancient  Greece. 


HISTORICAL,  CHRONOLOGICAL  AND  OROOKAPHICAL. 


U 


Almost  every  ntato  in  Kurope  underwent  important  rovolutionn.  Ucr- 
many  was  con^^iderably  Improved  in  its  legiaJHlion  under  Maximilian  I.; 
the  Imperial  Chamber  and  Aulic  Cuuncil  were  eatablislied.  The  reli* 
gioufl  disputes  brought  oa  a  succession  of  cruel  and  destructive  wars ; 
they  were,  however,  terminated  by  the  treaty  of  Passau,  the  peace  of 
1555,  and  that  of  Westphalia. 

In  France,  the  feudal  government  was  at  length  destroyed  by  Charles 
VII.  and  Louis  II.  The  wars  against  Kngland  succeeded  those  of  Italy ; 
and  those  were  followed  by  intestine  wars  iigciiiiHt  the  Huguenots, or  Fro* 
testants,  which  were  terminated  by  the  reduction  of  Kochelle,  and  the 
expulsion  of  the  Protestants.  In  iSpuin,  the  three  Christian  kingdoms 
were  united.  This  monarchy,  founded  by  Ferdinand  V.,  surnamcd  thti 
Catholic,  arrived  at  its  zenith  of  power  under  his  grandson,  Charles  V.  It 
lost  a  part  ofits  splendour  under  Philip  HI.  and  Philip  IV.,  princes  without 
genius,  valour  or  resources. 

Portugal  became  formidable  under  Kmanuel;  but  grew  weak  after  the 
death  of  Sebastian.  The  kingdom  submitted  to  the  Spanish  yoke  :  which 
it  shook  off  in  1040,  when  the  house  of  Hraganza,  by  an  unexpected 
revolution,  ascended  the  throne. 

England  gained  strength  under  Henry  VH.,  and  became,  from  time  to 
time,  more  powerful  under  his  successors,  the  Tudors,  by  its  policy  and 
its  commerce,  and  particularly  so  during  the  reign  of  queen  Klizabclh. 
After  the  death  of  Elizabeth,  James  VI.,  king  of  Scotland,  ascended  the 
English  throne,  and  took  the  title  of  James  I.,  king  of  Ureat  Britain;  but 
neither  himself,  nor  his  successors,  possessed  the  genius  or  the  activity 
of  that  celebrated  princess. 

Italy  was  divided  into  many  small  states.  Tuscany,  Parma  and  Pla- 
centia,  heretofore  cities  of  the  kingdom  of  Italy,  were  raised  to  the  dig* 
nity  of  dukedoms.  The  princes  of  Florence  encouraged  the  progress  of 
the  arts  and  sciences  by  honours  and  rewards.  Venice  was  less  consid* 
erable  for  its  commerce  than  formerly  ;  the  discovery  of  the  compass  en- 
abling; other  nations  to  partake  with  the  Venetians  in  the  profits  arising 
from  navigation.  G(  noa  also  experienced  a  considerable  diminution  of 
commerce  from  the  same  cause. 

The  seven  United  Provinces,  viz.  Holland,  Sec.  threw  off  the  Spanish 
yoke,  and  became  free ;  while  the  Swiss,  in  the  centre  of  their  rocky 
fastnesses,  formed  governments  for  the  protection  of  their  liberty. 

Denmark,  under  the  kings  of  the  house  of  Oldenburg,  now  began  to 
make  a  figure  among  the  powers  of  Europe.  The  Swedes  threw  oflf 
the  Danish  yoke,  and  elected  Ouslavus  Vasa  for  their  king,  who  redeem- 
ed the  lustre  of  the  nation.  Gustavus  Adolphus  added  considerably  to 
its  power  by  his  valour  and  his  victories.  Russia  also  assumed  a  new 
face.  Iwaii  Basilowitz  delivered  his  country  from  the  Tartarian  yoke. 
Iwan  Basilowitz  II.  extended  the  empire.  The  house  of  Romanof  as- 
cended the  throne,  and  conmienced  those  grand  schemes  which  the 
genius  and  perseverance  of  Peter  the  Great  afterwards  executed. 

Poland  flourished  under  the  Jagellon  race  of  princes ;  but  these  becom- 
ing extinct,  foreigners  were  introduced  to  the  throne.  Hungary  and  Bo- 
hemia, after  having  had  kings  of  different  nations  fell  to  the  house  of 
Austria. 

The  Ottoman  empire  augmented  its  grandeur  and  power  under  Soly- 
man  II.  After  his  death,  the  government  falling  into  the  hands  of  indo- 
lent and  effeminate  princes,  became  considerably  v.'eakened,  and  the  un- 
bridled power  of  the  Janissaries  now  arrived  at  its  highest  pitch. 

SEVENTH    PERIOD. — (1648 — 1714.) 

The  political  system  of  Europe  experienced  a  change  at  the  com- 
mencement of  this  period.    France  extended  its  territory,  and  became 


IMIIOMMINAIIY  OII8KUVATION8, 


»cry  powi-rfi'i  imd»'r  LouIb  XIV.;  hul  llic  wjim  rarrird  on  l»y  tliiii  pimre 
Hgaiimt  S|»iiiii,  llollniul,  aiid  tho  t'ni|»irc,  exlmunti'd  ilm  rc«uurct;(i  of  the 
kiiifliloin. 

(TiTMiiitiy  pri'dcritrd  hoiik-  iiitrrfdliiii;  clutiiKi-n.  Leopold  rsliililmlH-d  a 
nintli  cU'rioratii  iti  favour  of  tlir  Iioiim-  of  Haiuivi-r.  AuKiiMtuH,  rl.'cior  of 
Saxony,  waH  rl.clid  kiiiK  of  Poland;  and  (it-oiKf,  rkclor  of  Hanovpr, 
McntKlcd  tho  throne  of  (ireal  Uritain.  IMuhkhi  wnH  crcrlr'd  into  a  king- 
dom under  I'rcdt'ric,  th<;  third  (deetor  of  Ikandrnl)urK,  wlio  look  llio  lilii;  of 
Frrdcric  I. 

Spain  h)»it  power  niiihT  ihe  hitter  prinees  of  Austria,  and  was  diHrnem- 
bcred  hy  the  "succesjtion"  war,  wliioli  terniinaled  in  favour  of  tlie  Itouae 
of  Hourhon. 

AlphouMUM  VI.,  kin^  of  Portugal,  was  deposed  nnd  the  kinf(doni  de- 
clared iii(h'p«'ndeiit  of  Spain  hy  the  p(.'aec  of  Lisbon. 

Ill  Kn|;iand,  Charh's  I-  was  h(  liraded,  and  tlie  inonarehy  ahcdiahed. 
Oliver  ("roinwell  was  dechired  |)roleclor  of  tht;  (Joinnioinveallh.  which 
lusted  hut  a  short  lime  al'ler  his  death.     The  Sluarl  family  were  esiah- 


lished  again  on  the  throne,  .lames  II.  nhdicaled.  William,  etadlholder 
of  the  I  lulled  I'rovinees,  was  elected  king,  nnd  H(!curi!d  llic  succession  of 
the  hf'iise  of  Hanover  at  the  death  of  Anne. 

It«l>  uiidorweiit  an  almost  entire  change  hy  tho  peaec  of  Utrecht; 
the  hoiiHe  of  Austria  was  put  in  possession  of  its  most  fertih;  eountries. 
At  the  same  time  the  lioiisc  of  Savoy,  proCiting  holh  hy  the  war  nnd  the 
peace,  iiuireased  its  popsussions  in  Italy,  and  tlierehy  raised  its  iiilluciii  j 
in  Kurop(!. 

The  United  Provinces  increased  in  riches  and  power:  their  inilcpeii- 
deuce  was  secured  hy  tho  peace  of  Westphalia;  hiittli(7  eiigaycd  in  wars 
whii.'h  drained  tliein  of  tlieir  treasures,  without  aii^nieiiiing  liieir  power. 

The  republics  of  Swilzerhiiid  and  of  Venice  appeared  to  he;  of  less  con- 
sequence among  the  Kuropean  stales  than  heretufore ;  hut  the  formtir  con- 
timi'^d  to  he  happy  in  its  inoiiiitains;  the  latter  tranquil  among  its  lakes. 

Sweden,  whose  power  was  prodigious  under  ('liarlcs  X.  and  Oiiiirlcs 
XII.,  lost  niucdi  of  its  grandeur  after  the  dijfeat  of  tli(i  latter  prince  at 
Fultowa.  Russia  hecame  almost  on  a  sudden  enlightened  and  powerful, 
under  the  auspices  of  Peter  the  Gr<,i.  Poland,  iiafortimatt!  under  .lohit 
Casimir,  was  made  respectable  muter  .lolin  Sobieski.  Hungary  was 
desolated  by  continual  intestine  war,  and  deluged  with  the  hluod  of  its 
own  inhabitants. 

The  Ottoman  empire  continued  weak  under  piinties  incapable  of  gov- 
erning, who  placed  the  sceptre  in  the  hunds  of  miniaters  altogether  an 
weak  and  incapable  as  themselves. 

EIOHTII   PERIOD. — (1714 — 1789.) 

This  period  was  replete  in  negotiation,  in  treaties,  and  in  wars.  The 
balance  of  power,  intended  systematically  to  produce  perpetual  peace, 
'lad,  on  the  contrary,  been  the  means  of  exciting  coiitimial  war.  Tho 
jieace  of  'Jtrecht,  signed  by  almost  all  th.e  powers  of  Ihirope,  failed  to 
reconcile  the  emperor  and  the  king  of  Spain.  Philip  V.  coni.Meiicod  war. 
The  English  and  Dutch  procured  the  treaty  of  Vienna,  in  .  :i.  "^  'ic'i  put 
an  end  to  that  calamity;  but  a  new  Mar  comnujiiced  on  tli  ,■  c  V(  li  .-  .  a 
king  of  Poland.  France  declared  war  against  the  einper  ■■  ■  '''-i,  !■  .^ni- 
nated  by  the  peace  of  Vienna.  The  deatii  of  Charles  VI.,  i<  .a,  jiroduced 
a  new  war,  more  important  than  the  former  was,  and  of  longer  diiraiion. 
France  took  the  part  of  the  elector  of  Uavaria,  as  a  competitor  for  imperial 
dignity  against  the  house  of  Austria.  The  success  of  the  arms  of  th<j 
French  and  Bavarians,  induced  the  queen  of  Hungary  to  detach  the  king 
of  Prufsin  from  the  alliance.  The  defection  of  this  prince  changed  the 
«"ace  of  u.^'nirs-  a.id  the  sub.sequenr  victories  of  nuirshal  Saxc  oliliged  tlio 


IIIHTOIIICAL,  CIIRONOI-OJIICAL  AND  (IKOdUAl'llirAL. 


27 


•I, 
111 


bellin<ri;iit  p(»\vcri«  to  cou.  ItiJe  Uio  p«';ico  of  Aix-I.  -riiapi-llo,  wliiih  af. 
fonltul  but  u  sliort  culiit  to  «  i  ni<ruiiii'il  l']iir(i|ic.  Tlit'  liouMit  a(  Itoiiilxtn 
•lul  AiiMtrit,  MO  luiiij  «'ii('iiii('s  mid  ivah,  now  iiiiilol  tlirir  ('(ToiIh  to  main- 
tain  tliu  l>;tl.inci-  u(  pinvi'r>  l^ut  tlir  lintili^h  ami  rictiL-li  .toon  IoiiikI  |iri'- 
text  for  now  (Ima^pciiitiits'  im  I  war  wus  it^Hiii  dfi'lart'd.  Tin*  kiiiK  of 
l>ru>«Nia  took  part  witli  llif  Liii^lisiti,  ate'  thu  kiiii^  ul  Spuiii  wiili  tlic  Frciifh. 
TItiH  war  tcriiiiiiaUid  iiun  .  oi  I'avoui  a  ')ii'  Kiit^lish,  and  \Hi\rr  waa  i  on- 
cliidud  ill  170.1.  Ill  Italy  tin  lioiiMei)  of  Austria  ait'i  Hourboii  had  tliv  prin- 
cipal sway.  Savoy,  aitsirtttul  l>y  Riiyluid,  augintiilfl  i<s  power:  the 
iiiiaiid  of  Sanlinia  was  Kivni  in  vx  iiaiij;^  for  ."''rnly.  Chail'  i  Kniamiul 
III.  joiiu'd  a  Hinall  part  of  IIil'  Milam  -.r  to  lliis  t  iritory,  and  t'orsw  .i  lie- 
caint!  a  provincu  to  France.  In  Holland,  Williaiii  tV..  prmce  of  Orange, 
was  <leclarfd  Htadllioldi-r  of  the  Seven  I  intid  I'ro  nice^ 


Sweden,  afler  the  death  of  Charles  XII.,  nnderwent 


,in  t'lilire    liangc 


the  house  of  Ihdstein Mntni  ascen>!ed  the  throne,  (instavn^  111.,  thu 
"ceond  kin<r(d'  tins  fannly,  st  i/.eil  npon  ihi'  lihertics  of  IiIh  people,  .mil  be- 
came a  despot.  In  Russia  the  fonr  prineesses  who  had  held  the  tu'eptro 
•linee  the  death  of  I'eter  the  (Jreal,  rendeinl  the  empin;  worthy  <>(  the 
jjreat  j^iniius  who  may  he  sly'  ;d  it.'^  founditr.  I'oland  was  iiainLinbereil 
by  its  three  pow(!rfnl  neiijhbonrs,  Unssi.i,  Anstriiiand  I'rnssia. 

Prussia,  which  had  not  ceasi:d  to  ;ij4y;raiidize  itstilf  uinee  the  oleetor  of 
Brandenburg  reeeived  the  title  of  kiiiK,  wus  raised  to  the  lieiyht  of  grandeur 
and  power  under  the  wise  governmeut  of  that  eelebruted  hei  >  and  iphilo- 
ttopher,  Frederic  II. 

In  Turktjy,  Auhinet  III.  was  obli^red  to  surrender  his  er  ^mi  to  liia 
nephew,  Mohammed  V.  Mnslapha  111.  esponsed  the  cause  e  the  Poles 
Uirainst  the  Unssians,  ami  snstaine-d  great  losses.  Ilissucei  s-  <\;  Aehmet 
IV.  put  an  end  to  this  unfortunate  war  by  u  peace,  to  gain  wliii. i  he  made 
great  saeritices. 

The  Knjjlish  colonies  in  America  ri;volted  from  the  mother  < ountry, 
threw  oft'  its  yoke,  and  declared  themselves  independent.  Fram  ,  Spam 
and  Holland,  declared  in  iheir  favour;  when  after  a  war  of  eight  i  ars,  it 
was  terminated  by  in  I7r?3  by  a  peace,  whereby  they  were  acknou  lodged 
as  all  independent  nation. 

NINTH   PERIOD. — (1780 — 1815.) 

This  period  was  ushered  in  by  one  of  the  greatest  revolutions  tluu  evei 
happened  in  Europe,  or  the  world.  The  French,  so  long  habitna'  d  to 
despotism,  threw  oft", as  it  were  in  a  moment,  the  yoke  imposed  upon  iiein 
and  their  forefathers  for  many  ages.  Their  khig,  Louis  XVI.,apparfntly 
joined  in  the  effort,  but  at  length,  wanting  firmness  for  so  trying  :u>  oi- 'a- 
flion,  prevaricated,  and  attempted  to  fly  ;  he  was  seized,  tried,  iniqnitously 
condemned  and  (ixecuted.  His  queen,  Antoinette  of  Austria,  snlTeied 
also  under  the  guillotine.  Tiie  powers  of  Furopc,  headed  by  the  emper  ir 
and  the  king  of  Prussia,  coalesced  together  to  crush  the  revolutionary 
spirit  of  I  ranee.  Great  IJritain,  Spain,  Russia,  Holland,  Sardiina,  Naph  i, 
the  Popt,  and  a  variety  of  inferior  powers,  joined  the  confedcr.icy  :  o 
this  was  added  a  powerful  parly  in  the  interior,  and  the  flames  of  civ  1 
war  spread  far  and  wide.  Massacre,  rapine  and  horror,  stalked  througti 
the  land  :  notwithstanding  which,  the  Convention  formed  a  constitution, 
levied  numerous  armies,  and  conquered  Holland,  the  Netherlands,  and  all 
the  country  west  of  the  Rhine.  Italy  submitted  also  to  the  Gallic  republi- 
cans ,  and  Germany  was  penetrated  to  its  centre. 

Several  ehangi's  took  place  in  the  government  Buonaparte  (conquered 
Egypt:  and,  in  his  absence,  France  lost  great  [.avi  of  his  conquests  in 
Italy.  He  returned,  and  assuming  the  government  under  the  title  of  first 
consul,  r' cmuiuered  Italy.  Soon  after,  he  established  the  Italian  repub- 
lic ;  was  hiin*clf  constituted  president ;  and  made  peace  with  England. 


38 


PRELIMINARY  OBSERVATIONS, 


which  lasted  but  a  Bh(  rt  time.     A  new  war  commenced.    Buonaparte  wa« 
elected  emperor  of  the  French. 

Great  Uritain,  notwithstanding  the  p:irt  it  took  in  the  confederate  war, 
pushed  its  commerce  and  manufaclmcs  to  an  extent  heretofore  unknown. 
It  made  several  conquests,  nearly  annihilated  the  French  navy,  ajid 
obliged  their  army  to  evacuate  Egypt.  Peace  was  restored,  but  was  of 
short  duration.  War  again  commenced:  a  military  spirit  showed  itself 
throughout  the  nation,  and  tremendous  efforts  were  made.  French  im- 
petuosity  and  British  valour  were  for  years  witnessed  in  the  Spanish 
peninsula.  Russia  was  invaded  by  a  powerful  host  under  Napoleon  Buo- 
naparte but  the  invaders  were  ulleriy  annihilated.  The  crowning  act  of 
the  war  was  the  ever-memorable  battle  of  Waterloo,  whereby  the  over- 
throw of  Napoleon  was  effected,  and  the  peace  of  the  world  restored,  after 
gigantic  efforts  and  sacrifices,  on  all  sides,  which  have  no  parallel  in  history. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

OoMPARATivELT  Speaking,  the  science  of  Chronology  is  but  of  recent 
origin ;  for  many  ages  elapsed  before  the  mode  of  computing  time,  or  even 
of  giving  dates  to  important  events,  was  at  all  regarded  :  nay,  after  the 
value  of  historical  writings  was  felt  and  acknowledged,  Chronology  long 
remained  imperfect;  the  most  ancient  historians  leaving  the  precise 
periods  they  record  undetermined.  When  Homer  and  Herodotus  wrote, 
and  for  centuries  afterwards,  there  was  no  regular  distribution  of  time 
into  such  parts  as  months,  weeks,  and  hours;  nor  any  reference  to 
clocks,  dials,  or  other  instruments,  by  wiiicli  the  perpetual  current  of  time 
was  subdivided.  The  divisions  of  time  which  are  considered  in  Chrono- 
logy, relate  either  to  the  different  methods  of  computing  days,  months, 
and  years,  or  the  remarkable  eras  or  epochs  from  which  any  year  receives 
its  name,  and  by  means  of  which  tlie  date  of  any  event  is  fixed.  'I'lie 
choice  of  these  epochs  is  for  the  most  part  arbitrary,  each  nation  preferring 
its  most  remarkable  revolution  as  llie  standard  by  which  to  regul.-.to  its 
measurement  of  time.  Thus,  the  Greeks- have  their  Argonautic  expedi- 
tion, their  siege  of  Troy,  their  arrival  of  Cecrops  in  Attica,  and  tlieir 
Olympic  Games.  The  Romans  reckoned  from  the  foundation  of  their  city , 
but  in  their  annals  they  also  frequently  advert  to  their  various  civil  a'p 
pointments  and  external  conquests.  The  modern  .lews  reckon  from  the 
Creation;  and  the  Christians  from  the  Birth  of  our  Saviour.  From  this 
we  count  our  years  backward  towards  the  begiiming  of  time,  and  forward 
to  the  present  day.  But  it  was  not  till  the  year  532  that  tiiis  plan  was  in- 
troduced ;  and  even  then  the  abb6  Dionysius,  who  invented  it,  erred  in 
his  calculations:  nor  was  his  error  discovered  for  upwards  of  six  centuries 
afterwards,  when  it  was  found  to  be  deficient  four  years  of  tiie  true  period. 
But  as  un  alteration  of  a  system  which  had  been  adopted  by  nearly  all 
Europe,  would  have  occasioned  incalculable  inconveniences  in  civif  and 
ecclesiastical  affairs,  the  error  was,  by  general  consent,  suffered  to  re- 
main, and  we  continue  to  reckon  from  what  is  called  the  "vulgar  era," 
which  wants  four  years  and  six  days  of  the  real  Christian  epoch. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  are  many  difficulties  in  the  way  of  fixmg 
a  correct  Chronology ;  but  still  there  are  four  data  from  which  satisfac- 
tory conclusions  relative  to  certain  events  may  be  drawn;  and,  by  ascer- 
taining whether  others  occurred  before  or  afte'r  them,  wc  may  in  general 
arrange  the  most  remote  transactions  witn  a  degree  of  regularity  that  at 
the  first  view  might  have  appeared  hopeless.  These  are,  1.  Astronomical 
observations,  particularly  of  the  eclipses  of  the  sun  and  moon,  combined 
with  the  calculations  of  the  years  and  eras  of  particular  nations.    2.  The 


1 


HI8T011ICAL,  CHRONOLOOrCAL  AND  GEOGRAPHICAL. 


39 


'estimonies  of  credible  authors.  3.  Tliose  epochs  in  history  which  are 
so  well  attested  and  determined  hs  never  to  have  been  controverted.  4 
Ancient  medals,  coins,  monuments  and  inscrifitions.  We  have  also  some 
artificial  distinctions  of  time,  which  reverlheless  depend  on  astronomical 
calculations;  such  are  the  Solar  and  Lunar  Cycles,  the  Roman  Indiction, 
the  Feast  of  Easter,  the  Bissextile  or  Leap- Year,  the  Jubilees  and  Sab- 
batic  Years  of  the  Israelites,  the  Olympiads  of  the  Greeks,  the  Hegira  of 
the  Mohammedans,  &c.  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  study  of 
Chronology,  though  so  useful  to  the  clear  understanding  of  historical 
records,  is  a  distinct  science,  and  requires  to  be  studied  methodically.— 
Our  purpose  in  this  place  is  merely  to  point  to  it  as  one  of  "  the  eyes  of 
history." 


GEOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH  OF  THE  WORLD  AND  ITS 
INHABITANTS. 

By  Geography  is  understood  a  description  of  the  Earth.  It  is  divided 
into  Physical  or  Naturni  Geography,  and  Civil  and  Political  Geography, 
The  first,  or  Physical  Geography,  refers  to  the  surface  of  the  earth,  its 
divisions,  and  their  relative  situations;  the  climate  and  soil;  the  face  of 
the  country;  and  its  productions,  animal,  vegetable  and  mineral.  The 
second,  nr  Civil  Geography,  includes  the  various  nations  of  the  earth,  as 
divided  into  empires,  kingdoms,  republics,  provimes,  &c.,and  the  origin, 
language,  religion,  g(»vernment,  political  power,  commerce,  education  and 
manners  and  customs  of  those  nations. 

The  form  of  the  earth  is  very  nearly  spherical ;  the  polar  axis  being 
only  about  38  miles  shorter  than  the  equatorial ;  and  as  the  diameter  is 
nearly  8000  miles,  so  slight  a  difference  in  a  globular  body  would  be  im- 
perceptible. 

In  the  study  of  Geography,  maps  and  globes  are  indispensable ;  but, 
owing  to  their  form,  globes  give  a  better  idea  of  the  relative  sizes  and  sit- 
uations of  countries  than  can  be  learned  from  maps. 

The  earth  has  an  annual  and  a  diurnal  motion;  it  moves  completely 
round  the  sun  in  about  365  days,  6  hours ;  and  turns  completely  round,  as 
if  on  an  axis  or  spindle,  from  west  to  east,  in  about  24  liours:  an  imag- 
inary line,  therefore,  passing  through  its  centre,  is  called  its  Axis.  The 
extremities  of  the  axis  are  called  Pules — North  and  South — the  one  near 
est  to  the  country  we  inhabit  being  the  North  Pole. 

A  line  drawn  round  a  globe  is  obviously  a  circle;  and  as  various  circles 
are  described  on  artificial  globes,  for  reasons  hereafter  mentioned,  we 
speak  of  them  as  though  they  were  really  so  delineated  on  the  earth's 
surface. 

The  principal  circles  on  the  globe  are  the  Equator,  the  Ecliptic,  the 
Tropic  of  Cancer,  the  Tropic  of  Capricorn,  and  the  Arctic  and  Antarctic 
circles.  All  circles  are  considered  as  divisible  into  3C0  equal  parts,  called 
degrees;  each  degree  into  60  minutes,  and  each  minute  into  fiO  seconds; 
a  degree  is  thus  marked  °,  a  minute  thus',  and  a  second  thus  ":  so 
that  28*^  52'  36"  means  28  degrees,  52  minutes,  36  seconds.  And  as  a 
whole  circle  contains  360  degrees,  a  semi-circle  (or  half  a  circle)  will  con 
lain  180°,  and  a  quadrant  (or  quarter  of  a  circle)  90o. 

That  circle  on  the  surface  of  the  globe  which  is  everywhere  equally  dis- 
tant from  each  pole,  is  called  the  Equator;  and  it  divides  the  globe  into 
two  equal  parts  or  Hemispheres,  the  Northern  and  Southern.  The  appel- 
lation Equiit  ir,  or  Equinoctial  {noctes  (equantur),  is  given  to  it,  because, 
when  the  sun,  through  the  annual  motion  of  the  earth,  is  seen  in  this  cir- 
cle, the  days  and  nights  are  equal  in  every  part  of  the  world. 

The  Ecliptic  is  so  called,  because,  all  eclipses  cf  the  sun  or  moon  can 


so 


PRELIMINARY  OBSKRVATIONS, 


only  take  place  when  llio  moon  is  in  or  ne;ir  lliat  circle.  Tills  circle  ib 
described  on  the  tcrrcstriitl  <rlobe  soioly  for  the  purpose  of  performing  a 
greater  ninnber  of  problems. 

The  Tropics  are  two  parallels  to  the  equator,  drawn  through  the  eclip- 
tic, at  those  points  where  the  ecliptic  is  at  the  greatest  distance  from  the 
equator;  which  is  about  23''  30' from  the  equator,  on  either  side.  When 
the  sun  is  opposite  to  one;  of  the  tropics,  those  people  who  are  as  far  from 
the  corresponding  pole  as  the  tropic  is  from  the  equator,  see  the  sun  for 
more  than  twenty-four  hours.  This  is  the  case  with  every  part  nearer 
to  the  poles,  but  never  with  any  part  fartlier  from  them.  To  point  out 
this  peculiarity,  a  circle  is  described  on  the  olohc,  2'ii°  from  each  pole 
One  of  these  Pular  Circle.^  is  called  the  Arctic,  the  other  the  Antarctic ;  mg- 
nifying  the  north,  and  that  which  is  opposite  to  the  tiorlh. 

The  Zones  (so  called  from  a  (Jreek  word  sigiiifyiiiir  belts  or  girdles)  de- 
note those  spaces  between  the  several  principal  circles  before  described. 
Thus  between  the  poles  and  polar  circles  are  the  two  frigid  zones,  be- 
tween the  two  frigid  zones  and  llie  tropics  arc  the  two  temperate  zones, 
and  between  the  two  tro[)ics  the  torrid  zone ;  deriving  these  appellations 
from  the  trmperaliire  of  the  atmosphere. 

The  Latitude  of  a  place  is  its  distance  from  the  equator.  It  is  measured 
by  the  number  of  degrees,  &c.,  in  the  arc  of  tlie  meridian,  between  the 
place  and  the  equator;  and  is  called  ISorth  or  South,  according  as  the 
place  is  north  or  sontii  of  tlu;  equator. 

Longitude  is  the  di.stance  of  any  place  from  a  given  sjjot,  generally  the 
capital  of  the  eomitiy,  measured  in  a  direction  eaxt  or  west,  eitlier  along 
the  equator  or  any  circle  parallel  to  it.  Tiie  Knglish  measure  their  lon- 
gitude east  and  west  of  (Jreenwicli,  the  rreiicli  east  and  west  of  Paris,  &c. 

Meridians,  or  cindes  of  longitudes,  ;ir(;  so  called  from  meridics.  or  mid- 
day; because,  as  the  earth  makes  one  complete  revolution  round  its  own 
axis  in  twenty-four  hours,  every  part  of  its  suifaci;  must  i.n  the  course 
of  that  time  be  directly  opposite  to  the  sun.  The  sun,  therefore,  at  that 
point,  will  appear  at  its  greatest  altitude,  or,  in  other  words,  it  will  be 
mid-day  or  noon. 

Divisions  of  the  Earth. 

It  was  usual  until  the  present  centu'-y  to  speak  of  the  great  divisions  of 
the  Earth  as  the  Four  Quarters  of  the  World,  viz;  Europe,  Asia,  .\frica, 
and  America.  But  a  more  scientific  distribution  has  since  been  generally 
adopted;  and  the  chief  terrestrial  divisions  of  tlie  earlli's  surface  aie  now 
thus  enumerated  :  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  North  and  South  America,  Australia, 
and  Polynesia.  Of  these,  Europe,  Asia,  ;ind  .Africa,  form  the  Eistern 
Hemisphere,  (or  the  Old  World) ;  and  America  the  Western  H-enii.'^pliere, 
which,  from  its  not  being  known  to  Kuropeans  till  ttie  close  of  tlu^  15'h 
century,  is  called  the  New  World,  Australia  in(diules  that  e.\tensivo  re- 
gion called  New-Holland,  together  with  .New-Zealand  and  adjacent  isles; 
and  Polynesia  conipreheiuls  the  nnmerons  groups  of  volcanic  and  eoraline 
Islands  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  extending  eastward  to  the  Philippine  Islands 
and  from  New-Gumea  to  the  coast  of  America. 

The  Ocean  0(.'cupies  aboiil  two  thirds  of  the  earth's  surface ;  and  its 
waters  are  constantly  encro;ie!ung  upon  the  land  in  some  places,  and  re- 
ceding from  it  in  others.  To  ihis  cause  may  be  atlrii)uted  \\w  formation 
of  many  islands  in  di/fereut  parts  of  the  world.  The  greatest  d(>pth  of  the 
ocean  which  has  been  ascertained,  is  about  900  fathoms;  its  mean  depth 
is  estimated  at  about  200  fathoms.  Near  the  tropics  it  is  extremely  salt, 
but  the  saltness  considerably  diminishes  towards  the  poles. 

This  immense  expanse  of  water  is  divided  hito  smaller  oceans  or  seas, 

fulfs,  bays,  &c.,  limited  partly  by  real,  partly  by  imaginary  boundaries 
'he  Pacific  Ocean,  which  covers  nearly  one  thircl  of  the  earth's  surface 


M 


HiaXOaiCAL,  CHRONOLOGICAL,  AND  QKOQRAPHICAL. 


31 


and  is  about  10,000  miles  in  breadth,  lies  between  the  eastern  coast  of  Asia 
and  Auslrahd,  and  the  western  coast  of  America.  The  Allanhc  (Jcean  lies 
between  Europe  and  Africa  on  the  east,  and  America  on  tiie  west.  The 
Pacific  and  Atlantic  Oceans  are  each  distinguished  into  North  and  South. 
The  Indian  Ocean  is  bounded  by  Asia,  Africa,  and  Australia.  The  Arctic 
or  Frozen  Ocean,  lies  to  the  nortii  of  Kuro[)n,  Asia,  and  part  of  America. 
The  Southern  Ocean  lies  south  of  all  the  continents. 


In  this  condensed  Work  which  we  now  submit  to  the  public,  it  will  not 
be  expected  that  the  manifold  uses  and  advantages  of  a  knowledge  of  His- 
tory could  be  discussed,  or  that  many  facts  and  reasonings  which  might 
elucidate  obscure  or  controverted  passages  could  be  brought  forward ;  but 
we  trust  it  will  generally  be  found  tliat  the  materials  we  have  made  use 
of  have  been  derived  from  the  most  accurate  sources  of  historical  infor- 
mation ;  that  while  a  great  mass  of  matter  has  been  brought  together,  it 
may,  at  the  same  time,  appear,  that  jmiginent  and  (!ircuinspection  have 
been  used  in  proportion  to  the  importance  and  dilliculty  of  tlie  task;  and, 
moreover,  that  truth  and  impartiality  have  been  regarded  beyond  all  other 
considerations.  Upon  events  which  have  recently  occurred,  or  are  in 
progress  at  the  present  moment,  we  know  that  dift'ercnt  opinions  will  pre- 
vail; and  therefore,  in  relating  such  transactions,  an  honest  and  fearless 
regard  for  truth  and  the  good  of  society  is  tlie  bouiiden  duty  of  every  one 
who  presumes  to  narrate  them.  By  this  golden  rule  we  have  endeavoured 
to  abide,  and  humbly  hope  we  have  succeeded. 

The  idea  of  making  the  Tueasury  ok  Historv  extend  to  another  volume 
was  at  first  entertained ;  and,  in  truth,  no  small  portion  of  it  was  prepared 
under  an  impression  that  such  was  inevitable.  If,  therefore,  it  should  appear 
that  some  of  the  Histories  have  not  due  space  allotted  to  them,  this  fact  is 
offered  as  our  most  valid  reason  for  such  apparent  inequality  :  but  it  is  by 
no  means  intended  as  an  excuse  for  the  length  of  the  History  of  England; 
for  it  is  almost  impossible  to  speak  of  any  great  events  which  have  occur- 
red among  civilized  nations — especially  witiiin  the  last  century — that  do 
not,  directly  or  indirectly,  bear  on  British  interests,  and  which  consequent- 
ly, come  within  our  province  to  notice. 

It  seems,  however,  that  a  few  words  of  an  explanatory  or  apologetic 
nature  are  still  neccessary.  To  be  brief,  then: — A  uniform  method  of 
spelling  foreign  proper  names  has  not  always  been  rigidly  adhered  to;  or, 
it  may  be,  such  names  are  spelt  differently  in  other  works.  For  instance, 
we  have  written  Genjrhis-K/inn,  as  the  most  usual  orthography  ;  but  we 
have  found  it  elsewhere  written  Zingis  Khan,  Cingis  Khan,  and  Jenghis 
Khan.  The  name  of  Mahomet,  or  Mohammed,  is  written  both  ways,  and 
each  has  its  advocates,  though  modern  custom,  we  think,  is  in  favour  of 
the  latter  method.  Many  others  might,  of  course,  be  mentioned;  but  in 
none  are  so  many  variations  to  be  found  as  in  the  Chinese  names.  It  may 
also  happen  that  the  transactions  of  one  country  may  appear  to  be  given 
more  fully  than  necessary  in  the  history  of  another;  and vice  veisa.  The 
necessity  of  avoiding  needless  repetitions,  in  a  work  so  condensed,  and 
the  desire  at  the  same  time  to  omit  nothing  of  importance,  must  plead  our 
excuse  for  such  faults;  while  the  too  frequent  absence  of  a  vigorous  or 
elegant  style  of  composition,  may  be  thought  to  require  a  similar  apology. 
We  are,  indeed,  fully  sensible  that,  with  all  our  care,  many  imperfections 
^ill  be  found,  and  that  we  must  rely  chielly  upon  the  candour  and  liberality 
of  that  public,  whose  kind  support  and  encouragement  on  former  occasions 
we  have  felt  and  gratefuUy  acknowledged. 


♦ 


.;->:-r-.'?  ■-.•.;.#;?* 


a 


THIC 


TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


INTRODUCTORY   OUTLINE    SKETCH 


or 


GENERAL    HISTORY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   ANTEDILUVIAN  WORLD. 


HisTORT,  beyond  all  other  studies,  is  calculated  to  enlighten  the  judg- 
ment and  enlarge  the  understanding.  Every  page  conveys  some  useful 
lesson,  every  sentence  has  its  moral ;  and  its  range  is  as  boundless  as  its 
matter  is  various.  It  is  accordingly  admitted,  as  an  indisputable  axiom, 
that  there  is  no  species  of  literary  composition  to  which  the  faculties  of 
the  mind  can  be  more  laudably  directed,  or  from  which  more  useful  infor< 
mation  may  be  derived.  While  it  imparts  to  us  a  knowledge  of  man  in 
his  social  relations,  and  thereby  enables  us  to  divest  ourselves  of  many 
errors  and  prejudices,  it  tends  to  strengthen  ouj:  abhorrence  of  vice,  and 
creates  an  honourable  ambition  for  the  attainment  of  true  greatness  and 
solid  glorsr.  Nay,  if  considered  as  a  mere  source  of  rational  amusement, 
History  will  still  be  found  infinitely  superior  to  the  extravagant  Actions 
of  romance,  or  the  distorted  pictures  of  living  manners ;  for  by  the  habit- 
ual perusal  of  these,  however  polished  their  style  or  quaint  their  humour, 
the  intellect  is  frequently  debilitated,  and  the  heart  too  often  corrupted. 

In  aU  the  records  of  ancient  history  there  is  a  mixture  of  poetical  fable : 
nor  is  R  wholly  to  the  nistorian's  immaturity  of  reason,  or  to  the  general 
superstition  that  prevailed  in  remote  ages,  that  we  are  to  ascribe  this  pre- 
dilection for  marvellous  and  wild  narration.  It  has  with  greet  truth  been 
said  that  the  first  transactions  of  men,  were  bold  and  extravagant — their 
ambition  being  more  to  astonish  their  fellow-creatures  by  the  vastness  of 
their  designs,  and  the  diflficulties  they  could  overcome,  than  by  any  ra 
tional  and  extensive  plan  of  public  utility. 

Modeirn  history,  however,  claims  our  more  particular  regard.  In  that  is 
described  those  actions  and  events  which  have  a  necessary  connection 
with  the  times  in  which  we  live,  and  which  have  a  direct  influence  upon 
the  government  and  constitution  of  our  country.  It  unfolds  the  secret 
wheels  of  political  intrigue,  the  artifices  of  diplomacy,  and  all  those  com- 
plications of  interest  which  arise  from  national  rivalship ;  while  at  the 
same  time  it  lays  before  us  the  causes  and  consequences  of  great  events, 
and  edifies  us  by  examples  which  come  home  to  our  understandings,  and 
are  congenial  with  our  habits  and  feelings.  But  we  will  not  take  up  more 
of  the  reader's  time  in  expatiating  on  the  relative  merits  of  ancient  and 
mod.rn  history;  trusting  that  sufficient  has  been  said  to  induce  him  to 
accompany  us  while  we  attempt  to  describe  the  rise,  progress  and  subver. 
sion  of  empires,  and  the  causes  of  their  prosperity  or  decay. . 

As  speculations  upon  the  origin  and  formation  of  the  world  belong  rather 
to  philosophy  than  history,  we  should  det.ii  it  supererogatory  to  notice 
I — 3 


14 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HI8T0RV 


the  iubject,  however  slightly,  were  it  not  probable  that  its  entire  omission 
might  be  considered  an  ininccessary  deviation  from  an  almost  universal 
practice,  inasmuch  as  it  has  been  sanctioned  by  the  example  of  the  moat 
tminent  writers  of  ancient  and  modern  times.  On  these  and  other  ques- 
tions, alike  uncertain,  the  most  opposite  opinions  have  been  promulgated, 
and  the  most  irreconcilable  hypotheses  advanced  in  their  support ;  we 
"hall,  however,  not  stop  to  inquire  into  the  relative  merits  of  the  various 
and  discordant  theories  which  have  so  long  and  so  uselessly  occupied  the 
.tttention  of  philosophers,  naturjilists,  and  theologians. 

That  the  earth  has  undergone  many  violent  revolutions,  no  possible 
doubt  can  exist  in  the  mind  of  any  one  who  has  paid  even  the  most  su- 
perficial attention  to  tlie  discoveries  in  geological  science  during  the  last 
and  present  centuries ;  but  the  mighty  process  by  which  our  globe  was 
originally  formed  is  a  mystery  quite  as  unfathomable  now  as  it  was  in  the 
darkest  periods  of  human  existence.  Let  us,  then,  be  content  with  the 
sublime  exordium  of  tiie  great  Jewish  lawgiver ;  and  we  shall  find  that 
the  account  he  gives  of  the  creation,  though  eloquently  brief,  is  neither  al- 
legorical nor  mystical,  but  corresponds,  in  its  bold  outline,  with  the  phe- 
nomena which  IS  exhibited  to  us  in  the  great  book  of  nature.  It  is  true 
that  there  is  nothing  in  the  writings  of  Moses  either  calculated  or  intended 
to  satisfy  curiosity ;  his  object  was  simply  to  declare  that  the  whole  was 
(he  work  of  an  Almighty  architect,  who  as  the  Creator  and  Sovereign  of 
the  Universe,  was  alcue  to  be  worshipped. 

With  regard  to  the  primitive  condition  of  mankind,  two  very  opposite 
opinions  prevail.  Some  represent  a  golden  age  of  innocence  and  bliss  ; 
others  a  state  of  wild  and  savage  barbarism.  The  former  of  these  is  found 
not  only  in  the  inspired  writings  of  the  Jews,  but  in  the  books  esteemed 
sacred  by  various  oriental  nations,  as  the  Chinese,  Indians,  Persians,  Ba- 
bylonians, and  Egyptians.  The  latter  began  their  history  with  dynasties 
of  gods  and  heroes,  who  were  said  to  have  assumed  human  form,  and  to 
have  dwelt  among  men.  The  golden  age  of  the  Hindoos,  and  their  nu- 
merous avatars  of  the  gods,  are  fictions  of  a  similar  character,  as  well  as 
their  two  rpyal  dynasties  descended  from  the  sun  and  moon,  with  which 
we  find  a  remarkable  coincidence  in  the  traditions  of  Peru.  According  to 
the  other  doctrine,  the  human  race  was  ori^inaUy  in  the  lowest  state  of 
culture ;  and  gradually,  but  slowly,  attained  perfection.  It  is  in  vain,  how- 
ever, for  us  to  look  to  tke  traditionary  tales  of  antiquity ;  for  with  !he  ex- 
ception of  the  Mosaic  history,  as  contained  in  the  first  six  chapters  of 
Genesis,  we  can  find  none  which  does  not  either  aboimd  with  the  grossest 
absurdities,  or  lead  us  into  absolute  darkness. 

"Commentators,"  says  Anquetil,  "have  amplified  by  their  reveries  the 
simple,  natural,  and  affecting  narrative  of  Moses.  That  historian  has  in- 
formed us,  in  a  few  words,  what  was  the  origin  of  various  customs  and 
arts,  and  recorded  the  names  of  their  inventors.  Lamech,  the  son  of  Cain, 
gave  the  first  example  of  polygamy.  Cain  himself,  built  the  first  city,  and 
introduced  weights  and  measures.  One  of  his  grandsons  '  was  the  father 
of  such  as  dwell  in  tents,  and  of  such  as  have  cattle.'  Jubal  invented 
music,  Tabul-Cain  the  arts  of  forging  iron,  and  casting  brass ;  and  a  female 
named  Naamah,  those  of  spinning  and  weaving." 

That  the  antediluvians  led  a  pastoral  and  agricultural  life,  forming  one 
vast  community,  without  any  of  those  divisions  into  diflerent  nations 
which  have  since  taken  place,  seems  fully  evident.  But  the  most  mate- 
rial part  of  their  history  is,  that  having  once  began  to  transgress  the  divine 
commands,  they  followed  the  allurements  of  passion  and  sensuality,  and 
proceeded  in  their  career  of  wickedness,  till  at  length  the  universal  cor- 
ruption and  impiety  of  the  world  had  reached  its  zenith,  and  t'.ie  Almighty 
Creator  revealed  to  Noah  his  purpose  of  destroying  the  whole  human  race 
except  himself  and  his  family,  by  a  general  deluge ;  commanding  him  to 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  QENBRAL  HISTORY.  % 

prepare  an  ark,  or  suitable  vessel,  for  the  preservation  of  the  just  from  th« 
impending  judgment,  as  well  as  for  the  reception  of  animals  destined  to 
reproduce  their  several  species. 


CHAPTER  II. 

FRO.M  THE  D^LUOU,  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  JEWS  IN  CANAAN. 

After  the  Flood  had  prevailed  upon  the  earth  a  hundred  and  fifty  days, 
and  had  decreased  for  an  equal  time,  Noah  became  convinced,  by  the  re- 
turn of  a  dove  with  an  olive  branch,  that  the  land  had  again  emerged.  The 
time  when  this  great  event  took  place  was,  according  to  the  common  com- 
putation, in  the  1656th  year  of  the  world  ;  though  other  dates  have  been 
assigned  by  different  chronologists.  Many  other  nations,  in  the  mytho- 
logical part  of  their  history,  narrate  circumstances  attending  a  vast  inun- 
dation, or  universal  deluge,  which  in  their  essential  particulars,  corres- 
pond with  the  scriptural  account,  and  are  supposed  to  owe  their  origin  to 
it.  The  Chaldeans  describe  a  universal  deluge,  in  which  all  mankind  was 
destroyed,  except  Xisuthrus  and  his  family.  According  to  the  tradition- 
ary history  of  the  Greeks,  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  all  perished  by  a 
flood  except  Deucalion,  and  his  wife  Pyrrha.  By  the  Hindoos  it  is  be- 
lieved that  a  similar  catastrophe  occurred,  and  that  their  king,  Satyavrata, 
with  seven  patriarchs,  was  preserved  in  a  ship  from  the  universal  destruc- 
tion. Even  the  American  Iiidians  have  a  tradition  of  a  similar  deluge, 
and  a  renewal  of  the  human  race  from  the  family  of  one  individual.  But 
these  accounts  being  unsupported  by  historic  evidence,  it  would  be  an  un- 
profitable occupation  of  the  reader's  time  to  comment  on  them.  We  shall 
therefore  merely  observe,  that  many  ingenious  theories  have  occupied  the 
attention  of  distinguished  men  in  their  endeavours  to  account  for  this  uni- 
versal catastrophe.  The  Mosaic  account  simply  tells  us,  that  the  windows 
of  heaven  were  opened  and  the  fountains  of  the  deep  were  broken  up,  and 
that  as  the  flood  decreased  the  waters  returned  from  off  the  face  of  the 
earth.  That  there  is  nothing  unnatural  in  this,  geological  science  fur- 
nishes ample  evidence ;  in  short,  distinct  proofs  of  the  deluge  are  to  be 
found  in  the  dislocations  of  the  regular  strata,  and  in  the  phenomena  con- 
nected with  alluvial  depositions — which  can  only  be  attributed  to  the 
agency  of  vast  torrents  everywhere  flowing  over  and  disorganizing  the 
surface  of  the  earth. 

According  to  the  narration  of  the  inspired  writer,  the  individuals  pre- 
served from  the  deluge  were  Noah  and  his  wife,  and  his  three  sons,  Shem, 
Ham,  and  Japhet,  with  their  wives ;  in  all,  eight  persons.  We  are  in- 
formed that  the  ark  rested  on  mount  Ararat  (in  Armenia) ;  but  whether 
Noah  and  his  sons  remained  long  in  that  neighbourhood  must  be  left  to 
mere  conjecture.  We  merely  learn  that  the  greatest  portion  of  the  hu- 
man race  were  some  time  afterwards  assembled  on  the  plains  of  Shinar, 
where  they  engaged  in  building  a  tower,  with  the  foolish  and  impious  in- 
tention of  reaching  the  skies,  or,  in  the  language  of  Scripture,  "whose  top 
may  reach  unto  heaven."  But  this  attempt,  we  are  informed,  was  frus- 
trated by  the  Almighty,  who  confounded  their  language,  bo  that  they  no 
longer  understood  each  other's  speech.  The  scene  of  this  abortive  under- 
taking is  supposed  to  have  been  upon  the  Euphrates,  where  Babylon  was 
built,  not  far  from  which  are  extensive  masses  of  ruins ;  and  the  remains 
of  a  large  mound,  called  by  the  Arabs  the  Bursi  Ninirod,  or  Nimrod'stow- 
er,  is  generally  believed  to  be  the  foundaticn  of  the  tower  of  Babel. 

In  endeavouring  to  account  in  a  natural  way,  and  no.  as  the  effect  of  a 
miracle,  for  the  confusion  of  languages  and  the  dispersion  of  mankind  Dr. 
Shuckford  comes  to  the  following  rational  conclusion    "  I  imagine  that 


M 


Outline  sketch  of  genkual  history. 


the  common  opinion  about  the  dispersion  of  manl(ind,  is  h  very  wrong  ono 
The  confusion  of  tongues  arose  at  first  fn>in  small  beginnings,  increasing 
gradually,  and  in  time  grew  to  such  a  height,  as  to  scatter  mankind  over 
the  face  of  the  earth.  When  these  men  came  first  to  Dabel,  theT  were 
but  few;  and  very  probably  lived  together  in  three  families,  sons  of'^Shem, 
sons  of  Ham,  and  sons  of  Japhet ;  and  the  confusion  arismg  from  some 
leading  men  in  each  family  inventing  new  words  and  endeavouring  to 
teach  them  to  those  under  their  direction  ;  this  in  a  little  time  divided  the 
three  families  from  one  another.  For  the  sons  of  Japhet  nfTccting  the 
novel  inventions  of  a  son  of  Japhet;  the  sons  of  Ham  aflfueting  those  of  a 
son  of  Ham  ;  and  the  sons  of  Shem  speaking  the  new  words  of  a  son  of 
Shem ;  a  confusion  would  necessarily  arise,  and  the  three  families  would 
part;  the  instructors  leading  off  all  such  as  were  initiated  in  their  peculi- 
arities of  speech.  This  might  be  the  first  step  taken  in  the  dispersion  of 
mankind :  they  might  at  first  break  into  three  companies  only ;  and  when 
this  was  done,  new  differences  of  speech  still  arising,  each  of  the  families 
continued  to  divide  and  subdivide  amon^  themselves,  time  after  time, 
as  their  numbers  increased,  and  new  and  different  occasions  arose,  and 
opportunities  offered ;  until  at  length  there  were  planted  in  the  world, 
from  each  family,  several  nations  called  after  the  names  of  the  persons  of 
whom  Moses  has  given  us  a  catalogue.  This  I  think  is  the  only  notion 
we  can  form  of  the  confusion  and  division  of  mankind,  which  can  give  a 
probable  account  of  their  being  so  dispersed  into  the  world,  as  to  be  gen- 
erally settled  according  to  their  families ;  and  the  tenth  chapter  of  Gen- 
esis, if  rightly  considered,  implies  no  more." 

From  the  families  of  the  three  sons  of  Noah,  then,  are  all  tlie  nations  of 
the  earth  descended.  The  children  of  Shem  were  Elam,  Asshur,  Arph« 
axad,  Lud,  and  Aram.  Elam  settled  in  Persia,  where  he  became  the 
father  of  that  mighty  nation ;  the  descendants  of  Asshar  peopled  Assyria ; 
and  Arphaxad  settled  in  Chaldea.  To  the  family  of  Lud  is  generally  as- 
signtd  Lydia;  and  Aram  is  believed  to  have  settled  in  Mesopotamia  and 
Syria.  The  children  of  Ham  were  Cush,  Mizraim,  Phut,  and  Canaan. 
The  descendants  of  Cush  are  supposed  to  have  removed  from  the  south- 
east of  Babylonia,  afterwards  called  Khusestan,  to  the  eastern  parts  of 
Arabia;  from  whence  they  by  degrees  migrated  into  Africa.  Mizraim 
peopled  Egypt,  Ethiopia,  Lybia,  and  the  rest  of  the  northern  parts  of  the 
same  continent.  No  particular  country  has  been  assigned  to  Phut,  who 
is  believed  to  have  settled  somewhere  in  Arabia,  near  to  Cush.  But  Ca- 
naan is  generally  allowed  to  have  settled  in  Phoenicia;  and  to  have 
founded  those  nations  who  inhabited  Judea,  and  were  for  the  most  par> 
subsequently  exterminated  by  the  Jews. 

As  Moses  gives  no  account  of  the  life  and  death  of  Japhet,  Noah's  eldest 
son,  he  is  presumed  not  to  have  been  present  at  the  confusion  of  Babel , 
but  that  his  seven  sons  were  afterwards  heads  of  nations  there  is  good 
reason  to  believe.  Their  names  were  Gomer,  Magog,  Madai,  Javan,  Ju- 
bal,  Meshe(;h,  and  Tiras.  Gomer,  according  to  Josephus,  was  the  father 
of  the  Gomerites  or  Celtes,  viz.,  of  all  the  nations  who  inhabited  the 
northern  parts  of  Europe,  under  the  names  of  Gauls,  Cimbrians,  Goths, 
Sec,  and  who  also  migrated  into  Spain,  where  they  were  called  Celiibe- 
rians.  From  Magog,  Meshech,  ana  Jubal,  proceeded  the  Scythians,  Sar- 
matians,  and  Tartars ;  from  Madui,  Javan,  and  Tiras,  the  Medes,  lonians 
Greeks,  and  Thracians. 

It  is  evident  that  the  monarchical  forms  of  government  began  early,- 
Nimrod,  one  of  the  sons  of  Cush,  having  been  made  king  of  Babylon, 
while  the  rest  are  supposed  to  have  planted  different  parts  of  Arabia. 
The  sacred  historian  says  *'  Nimrod  began  to  be  a  mighty  one  in  the 
earth — a  inighiy  hunter  before  the  Lord."  He  is  said  to  have  built  severa. 
cities,  but  when  he  began  his  reign,  how  long  he  reigned,  and  w.io  were 


OUTLINR  SKETCH  OF  OBrBRAL  HISTORY. 


m 


his  successors,  we  are  not  informed.  The  Jews  suppose  him  to  .  .  the 
same  with  Amraphel,  the  king  of  Shinar,  who,  with  his  three  confederates, 
were  defeated  by  Abram.  Some  have  imagined  him  to  be  the  same  with 
Belus, and  the  founder  of  the  Babylonish  empire;  others  with  Ninus,  the 
founder  of  the  Assyrian.  Nineveh,  afterwards  the  capital  of  the  Assyrian 
empire,  was  built  by  Asshur,  who  also  founded  two  other  cities,  called 
Resen  and  Reholmth,  of  the  situation  of  which  we  arc  now  ignorant. 
About  tlic  same  time  varioas  other  kingdoms  sprung  up  in  diflferent  parts 
nf  the  world  Thus  we  read,  in  the  sacred  voixime,  of  the  kings  of  Egypt, 
Gcrar,  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  fee,  in  the  time  of  Abraham ;  and  it  is  but 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  nations  over  which  they  reigned  had  for 
some  time  existed :  for,  as  the  learned  and  pious  Bossuet  remarks,  "  we 
see  laws  establishing,  manners  polishing,  and  empires  forming.  Mankind, 
by  degrees,  gets  out  of  ignorance:  experience  instructs  it :  and  arts  are 
invented  or  improved.  As  men  multiply,  the  earth  is  more  closely  peo- 
pled ;  mountains  and  precipices  are  passed ;  first  rivers,  then  seas,  are 
crossed ;  and  new  habitations  established.  The  earth,  which  at  the  begin- 
ning was  one  immense  forest,  takes  another  form :  the  woods  cut  down 
make  room  for  fields,  pastures,  hamlets,  towns  and  cities.  They  had  at 
first  to  encounter  wild  beasts ;  and  in  this  way  the  first  heroes  signalized 
themselves.  Thus  originated  the  invention  of  arms,  which  men  turned 
afterwards  against  their  fellow  creatures." 

The  first  considerable  national  revolution  on  record  is  the  migration  of 
the  Israelites  out  of  Egypt,  and  their  establishment  in  the  land  of  Canaan. 
This  event  was  attended  with  a  terrible  catastrophe  to  the  Egyptians. 
The  settlement  of  tiie  Jews  in  the  land  of  Canaan  is  supposed  to  have 
happened  about  1491  b.c  For  nearly  ^00  years  after  this  period  we  find  no 
authentic  account  of  any  other  nations  than  those  mentioned  in  Scripture. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  FABULOUS   AND   IIKROIC    AGES,   TO    THE   INSTITUTION    OF   TBS 

OLYMPIC  GAMES. 

We  now  perceive,  in  profane  history,  the  dawn  of  what  is  called  the 
heroic  age ;  in  which  historical  facts,  though  still  tinctured  with  the  mar- 
vellous, begin  to  assume  something  like  the  appearance  of  truth.  Egypt 
is  seen  gradually  recovering  from  the  weakness  induced  by  the  visitation 
of  the  destroying  angel,  and  the  memorable  disaster  of  the  Red  Sea,  by 
which  her  nobility  and  the  flower  of  her  army  had  been  engulfed.  Greece 
rapidly  emerges  from  obscurity,  and  makes  other  nations  feel  the  effects 
of  that  enterprising  and  martial  spirit  for  which  her  sons  were  afterwards 
so  renowned.  Various  migrations  take  place  in  Egypt  and  Asia,  and  make 
settlements  in  diflerent  parts  of  Europe.  Thus  was  civilization  greatly 
extended ;  for  by  the  concurrent  testimony  of  all  writers  it  appears,  that 
while  the  descendants  of  Shem  and  Ham,  wiio  peopled  the  east  and  south, 
were  establishing  powerful  kingdoms,  and  making  great  advances  in  the 
useful  arts,  the  posterity  of  Japhet,  who  settled  in  the  west  and  north,  by 
degrees  had  sunk  into  a  state  of  barbarism.  To  the  Egyptian  colonists, 
therefore,  were  they  indebted  for  their  laws  and  religious  mysteries;  and 
they  also  excited  among  them  a  taste  for  science  and  the  arts,  while  the 
Phoenicians  taught  them  writing,  navigation  and  commerce. 

The  Greeks  were  now  growing  great  and  formidable,  and  their  actions 
Had  an  immense  influence  on  the  destinies  of  other  nations.  About  1184 
years  b.c  they  distinguished  themselves  by  their  expeditions  against  Troy, 

city  of  Plirygia  Minor ;  which,  after  a  soige  of  ten  years  they  plundered 
and  burnt.    iEneas,  a  Trojan  prince,  escaped  with  a  small  band  of  hia 


iB 


OUTLINK  8KKTCH  OF  QKNEIIAL  HISTORY. 


countrymen  into  Italy  ;  and  from  iheiii  tlio  origin  of  the  Roman  empire  may 
be  traced.  At  the  period  wo  are  now  speaking  of  we  find  the  Lydians, 
Mysiann,  and  some  uiUvr  nations  of  Asia  Minor,  first  mentioned  in  history. 

Though  we  necessarily  omit,  in  this  brief  outline,  a  multitude  of  impor- 
tant transactions  which  are  recorded  in  the  Bible,  the  reader  must  not 
lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  the  sacrea  'olume  is  M\  of  historical  interest . 
and  we  shall  have  frequent  occasion  to  refer  to  the  actions  of  "God's 
chosen  people"  as  we  describe  events  mentioned  by  profane  writers.  For 
the  present  it  is  sutficient  to  state,  that  about  1050  years  before  the  birth 
of  Christ,  the  kingdom  of  Judea,  under  king  David,  approached  its  utmost 
extent  of  power;  that  in  the  glorious  reign  of  his  son,  the  wise  and  peace- 
ful Solomon,  which  followed,  that  stupendous  and  costly  edifice,  "  the 
temple  of  God,"  was  completed,  and  its  dedication  solemnized  with  extra- 
ordinary piety  and  magnificence ;  that  the  revolt  of  the  ten  tribes  took 
place  inHlie  reign  of  Rehoboam,  the  son  and  successor  of  Solomon,  by 
which  Jerusalem  was  rendered  a  more  easy  prey  to  the  Egyptian  king, 
called  in  Scripture,  Shishak,  and  supposed  to  be  the  great  Sesostris,  whose 
deeds  make  so  conspicuous  a  figure  in  the  history  of  his  country.  After 
the  lapse  of  another  century,  we  learn  that  Zcra,  an  Ethiopian,  invaded 
Judea  with  an  army  composed  of  a  million  of  infantry  and  three  hundred 
chariots,  but  was  defeated  with  great  slaughter  by  Asa,  whose  troops 
amounted  to  about  half  that  number.  By  this  time  the  Syrians  had  be- 
come a  powerful  people ;  and,  taking  advantage  of  the  rivalry  which  t\ 
isted  between  the  kingdoms  of  Israel  and  Judah,  aimed  at  the  subjugation 
of  both.  The  Syrian  empire  was,  however,  eventually  destroyed  by  the 
issyrians,  under  Tiglath  Pilesar,  in  740  b.c.  ;  as  was  also  the  kingdom  of 
Samaria  by  Shalmaneser  his  successor,  in  721 ;  and  such  of  the  people  as 
escaped  death,  were  carried  captives  into  Media,  Persia,  &c. 

While  the  resources  of  the  mighty  nations  of  the  East  were  expended 
in  eflPecting  their  mutual  destruction,  the  foundations  of  some  powerful 
empires  were  laid  in  the  West,  which  were  destined,  in  process  of  time,  to 
subjugate  and  give  laws  to  the  eastern  world.  About  eight  centuries  be- 
fore the  Christian  era  the  city  of  Carthage,  in  Africa,  wa.<»  founded  by  a 
Tyrian  colony,  and  became  the  capital  of  a  powerful  ref  I'blic,  which  con- 
tinued 724  years;  during  the  greater  part  of  which  time  j>iiahips  traversed 
the  Mediterranean  and  even  the  Atlantic,  whereby  it  was  enabled  to  mo- 
nopolize, as  it  were,  the  commerce  of  the  whole  world.  In  Europe  a  very 
important  revolution  took  place  about  900  b.c,  namely  the  invasion  and 
conquest  of  the  Pelopoimesus  by  the  Heraclidae,  or  descendants  of  Her- 
cules. Of  this  event,  and  its  consequences,  we  shall  have  to  speak  at 
greater  length,  in  its  proper  place,  in  the  body  of  the  work ;  we  shall, 
therefore,  merely  remark  here,  that  the  Peloponnesus  is  a  large  peninsula 
situated  at  the  southern  extremity  of  Greece,  to  which  it  is  joined  by  the 
isthmus  of  Corinth.  It  is  of  an  irregular  figure,  about  563  miles  in  cir- 
cumference, and  is  now  called  "  The  Morea."  On  the  isthmus  stood  the 
City  of  Corinth ;  while  the  Peloponnesus  contained  the  kingdoms  and  re- 
publics of  Sicyon,  Argos,  Lacedaemon  or  Sparta,  Messenia,  Arcadia  and 
Mycenae.  . 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FROM    THE    INSTITUTION    OF   THE   OLYMPIC   GAMES,  TO   THE 
DEATH   OF   CTRUS. 

In  776  B.C.,  the  Olympic  games,  instituted  by  Hercules,  and  long  dis- 
continued, were  revived,  and  with  their  revival  we  find  the  history  Of  the 
Grecian  states,  and  the  affairs  of  the  world  generally,  are  more  to  be  de- 
pended on ;  in  short,  the  period  which  Varro  calls  fabulous  ends,  and  the 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  QENERAL  HI8T0UY  g| 

historical  times  begin.  This  is  msiinly  attributable  to  the  continuance  of 
the  Olympic  samos,  which  greatly  Tacilittited  not  only  the  writing  of  their 
history,  but  that  of  other  notions ;  for,  as  each  olympuid  consisU'd  of  four 
years,  the  chronology  of  every  important  event  became  indubitably  fixed 
by  referring  it  to  its  olympiad.  They  also  greatly  contributed  to  the  eivi- 
lization  of  the  Grecian  stales,  and  to  the  general  advancement  of  the  polito 
arts.  At  this  period  Uomn,  which  was  one  day  to  be  the  miHtrcss  of  the 
world,  arose  :  its  foundation  being  laid  by  Romulus  about  750  years  be- 
fore the  commencement  of  the  Christian  era.  Forty-three  years  after,  the 
Spartan  state  was  remodelled,  and  received  from  Lycurgus  (hose  laws 
which  alike  contributed  to  the  renown  of  him  who  made  and  they  who 
observed  them. 

If  we  take  a  glance  at  the  general  state  of  the  world  in  the  following 
century,  we  shall  find  that  the  northern  parts  of  Europe  were  thinly  peo- 
pled, or  inhabited  by  unknown  and  barbarous  nations.  The  Gomerians, 
or  Celtic  tribes,  had  possession  of  France  and  Spain.  Italy  was  divided 
into  a  number  of  petty  states,  among  which  the  Romans  had  already  be- 
come formidable,  having  enlarged  their  dominions  by  the  addition  of  sev- 
eral cities  taken  from  their  neiglibours.  Foremost  among  the  stales  of 
Greece  were  those  of  Athens  and  Snarta  :  the  martial  character  of  the  in- 
stitutions of  Lycurgus  had  rendered  the  latter  famous  in  war;  while  the 
former  were  enriching  themselves  by  nuvigation  and  commerce.  Corinth, 
Thebes,  Argos,  and  Arcadia,  were  the  other  stales  of  most  consideration. 

The  sceptre  of  Babylon  was  at  this  time  swayed  by  Nebuchadnezzar,  by 
whom  the  kingdom  of  Judea  was  totally  overthrown,  587  b.c,  and  its 
t'lmple  burned  to  the  ground  in  the  following  year.  He  also  took  and  de- 
molished the  city  of  Tyre,  despoiled  Egypt,  and  made  such  prodigious 
conquests  both  in  the  east  and  west,  that  the  fame  of  his  victories  filled 
the  world  with  awe ;  till  at  length  his  empire  comprehended  Phoenicia, 
Palestine,  Syria,  Babylonia,  Media,  Persia,  and  part  of  India.  One  great 
cbj»!ct  of  his  pride  and  ambition  was  to  render  his  capital  beyond  all  ex- 
ample gorgeous  ;  nor  can  we  consider  the  wonders  of  that  city,  as  related 
by  Herodotus,  at  aU  incredible,  when  we  remember  that  the  strength  and 
resources  of  his  mighty  empire  were  made  subservient  to  the  purpose. 

The  next  important  event  that  occurred  was  the  revolution  occasioned 
by  the  misconduct  of  Evil-merodach,  Nebuchadnezzar's  son,  who,  without 
provocation,  wantonly  attacked  and  began  to  plunder  and  lay  waste  the 
country  of  the  Medes.  This  produced  an  immediate  revolt,  which  quickly 
extended  over  all  Media  and  Persia.  The  Medes,  headed  by  Astyages 
and  his  son  Cyaxeres  drove  back  the  intruder  and  liis  followers  with  great 
slaughter ;  nor  does  it  appear  that  the  Babylonish  monarch  was  After- 
wards able  to  reduce  them  to  subjection.  We  now  come  to  the  period 
when  the  brilliant  career  of  Cyrus  demands  our  notice.  He  had  signal- 
ized himself  in  various  wars  under  Astyages,  his  grandfather,  when,  hav- 
ing been  appointed  generalissimo  of  the  Median  and  Persian  forces,  he 
attacked  the  Babylonish  empire,  and  the  city  of  Babylon  itself  fell  before 
his  victorious  arms.  Cyrus  now  issued  a  decree  for  the  restoration  of  the 
Jews,  and  the  rebuilding  of  their  Temple.  By  a  succession  of  victories 
he  had  become  master  of  all  the  East,  and  for  some  time  the  Asiatic  af- 
fairs continued  in  a  state  of  tranquillity.  It  is  necessary  to  observe  in  this 
place,  that  the  Medes,  before  the  time  of  Cyrus,  though  a  great  and  ^w- 
erful  people,  were  eclipsed  by  the  superior  prowess  of  the  Babylonians. 
But  Cyrus  having  conquered  their  kingdon^  by  the  united  force  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians,  it  appears  that  the  great  empire  of  which  he  was  the 
founder  must  have  taken  its  name  from  both  nations ;  so  that  the  empire 
of  the  Medes  and  that  of  the  Persians  were  one  and  the  same,  though  in 
consequence  of  the  glory  of  its  wise  and  victorious  leader  it  subsequently 
retained  only  the  latter  name.     Meanwhile,  it  continued  to  extend  itself 


40 


OWTLINR  HKRTOH  OP  GRNBHAL  HIBTORY. 


on  every  tidtt ;  and  ut  Inigth  rainl)y8(>i,  the  son  and  aiiccMflor  of  Ojnii, 
conquered  Kgypt,  and  added  that  country  to  his  already  overgrown  do 
mimona. 


CHAPTKR  V. 

mOM   TIIK    ERECTION    or    THE    rEflHIAN    EMPIRE,  TO    THE    DIVISION  Of   THI 
ORECIAN    EMPIRE    AETER    THE    DEATH    OF    ALEXANUKR 

The  Babylonians,  groaning  under  the  oppresaivo  yoke  of  their  Pcraiai. 
masters,  in  517  b.c  made  adcsperato  effort  to  ahako  it  off ;  but  they  were 
aiftnaliy  defeated  by  Uariua  Hystaspio,  who  besieged  the  city  of  Babylon, 
demolished  its  fortificationa,  and  caused  its  walls  to  be  lowered  from  200 
lo  60  cubits.  Darius  then  turned  his  arms  against  tho  Scythians  ;  after 
which  he  directed  his  course  eastward,  and  reduced  the  country  as  far  as 
the  Indus.  In  the  meantime  tho  loiiiann,  who  had  submitted  to  Cyrus, 
revolted,  which  led  to  the  invasion  of  tho  Grecian  states,  and  those  dis« 
asters  to  the  Persians  by  land  and  sea,  which  we  have  elsewhere  related. 
In  469  B.C.  tho  Kg^yptians  made  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  regain  their  inde- 
pendence. They  also  again  revolted  in  413  r.c,  and,  being  qsHisled  by 
the  Sidonians,  drew  upon  the  latter  that  terrible  destruction  foretold  by  the 
prophets,  while  they  more  firmly  rivctted  tho  chains  which  bound  them- 
selves to  the  Persian  rule. 

The  Persian  history  exhibits  every  characteristic  of  oriental  cruelty, 
treachery,  and  despotism ;  and,  with  a  few  cplendid  exceptions,  presents 
us  with  a  scries  of  monarchs  whose  lust  of  power  was  equalled  only  by 
their  licentiousness.  But  the  greatness  of  the  Persian  empire  was  soon 
about  to  be  humbled.  Ten  thousand  Greek  mercenaries  had  served  under 
the  younger  Cyrus  in  his  rebellious  attempt  to  seize  the  throne  of  his 
elder  brother,  Artaxerxes  Mnemon  ;  but  he  was  defeated  and  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Cunaxa,  near  Babylon  ;  and  his  Grecian  allies,  though  in  a  strange 
country,  and  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  enemies,  effected  their  safe  retreat 
under  Xenophon,  whose  conduct  on  this  occasion  has  been  extolled  both 
by  ancient  and  modern  writers,  as  exhibiting  a  matchless  union  of  prudent 
caution  and  military  skill. 

In  this  rapid  sketch  we  shall  not  stop  to  notice  the  various  contests 
which  took  place  between  the  Grecian  states,  though  they  make  a  con- 
siderable figure  in  their  respective  histories;  but  pass  on  to  the  tiifte  of 
Philip  of  Macedon,  who,  taking  advantage  of  the  wars  and  dissensions 
which  were  gradually  weakening  the  neighbouring  states  of  Greece,  began 
to  meditate  their  conquest;  and  by  sometimes  pretending  to  ai'bist  one 
state  and  sometimes  another,  he  finally  effected  his  object.  Having  be- 
come master  of  all  Greece,  he  projected  the  conquest  of  Asia  :  his  death, 
however,  by  assassination,  left  that  great  achievement  to  be  attempted  by 
his  ambitious  and  warlike  son,  Alexander,  surnamed  the  Great. 

No  man  who  ever  lived,  perhaps,  possessed  the  necessary  qualities  foi 
the  execution  of  this  mighty  project  in  a  more  eminent  degree  than  the 
youthful  Alexander.  Brave,  skilful,  and  impetuous,  he  marched  from 
victory  to  victory;  till  at  length  the  power  of  the  Persians  was  totally 
overthrown  at  the  battle  of  Arbela,  331  b.c,  and  an  end  put  to  the  empire 
by  the  murder  of  Darius  by  Bessus  in  the  following  year.  Alexander  hav- 
ing subdued  Persia,  his  victorious  arms  were  now  directed  against  the 
countries  which  bounded  Persia ;  and  having  reduced  Hyrcania,  Bactria, 
and  several  other  independent  kingdoms,  he  entered  India  and  subdued 
all  the  nations  to  th«  river  Hyphasis,  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Indus. 
At  length  the  patience  of  his  troops  became  exhausted  ;  they  saw  that  tho 
ambition  of  their  leader  was  boundless,  and  refused  to  gratify  his  passion 
for  universal  conquest  by  proceeding  farther.     He  died  at  Babylon  in  the 


OUTLINIC  HKBTCIl  Off  URNiCKAL  IIISTOaY. 


41 


year  3Q3  ■  c  ,  Iravinif  the  afTairt  uf  his  vast  empire  in  a  moat  unaettled 
•tatc,  aiiti  not  uvoii  naming  hia  succesanr. 

In  llie  weHi'  rn  world,  ai  this  porioil,  jjrrat  kingdom!*  were  evolving 
from  ohitciinty,  and  events  o(  tho  highont  importunco  nuccceding  each 
otht'r  with  unexampled  rapidity,  Ttiu  fimt  ottjuct  that  here  cliiimH  our 
attention  in  the  eatiibiiHhincnl  and  rnpid  growth  of  the  Koinan  repuhlic. 
In  50!>  B.C.  Tan|uin,  the  iant  king  of  Itonie,  was  expelled,  and  the  govern- 
ment entrusted  to  two  inngiHtrates,  annuiilly  elected,  eiilled  eoiiHuU.  Thua 
the  repuldi'-  proceeded,  though  amid  perpetual  Jealounies  and  contentionst 
till  it  rencli  d  its  highest  pitch  of  power  and  grandeur,  by  the  successive 
conquest  of  Italy  and  her  isles,  Snain,  Macedonia,  Carthage,  Asia  Minor, 
Syria,  Palestine,  Uaul,  Dritain  and  Kgypt.  It  was,  nevertheless,  exposed 
to  the  greatest  danger  from  the  ainhilion  of  individuals  :  the  civil  wars  of 
Mariiis  and  Sylla,  and  the  conspiracy  of  (.'aliline,  shook  its  very  centre ; 
and  by  the  contention  arising  out  of  the  rivalry  of  Julius  Cicsar  and  Pom- 
pey,  it  was  ultimately  overthrown. 

On  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  four  new  empires  immediately, 
as  it  were,  sprung  up.  He  had  loft  behind  him  a  large  and  victorious 
army,  commanded  by  generals  who,  bred  in  the  same  school,  were  not 
ess  ambitiQus  of  sovereign  rule  than  their  master.  Cassander,  the  son 
of  Antipater,  seized  Macedonia  and  Greece;  Antigtnuis,  Asia  Minor;  Se- 
Icucus  marked  out  for  his  share  Babylon  and  the  eastern  provinco^ ;  and 
Ptolemy,  Kgypt  and  the  western  ones.  Furious  wars  soon  succeeded  this 
division  of  Alexander's  wide-spread  empire  ;  and  several  provinces,  takttig 
advantage  of  the  general  confusion,  shook  nflf  the  Macedonian  yoke  alto- 
gether. Thus  were  formed  the  kingdoms  of  Pontus,  Dithynia,  Pergamus, 
Armenia,  and  Cappadocia.  Antigonus  was  defeated  and  killed  by  Se- 
leucus  at  the  battle  of  Ipsus,  301  b.c,  and  the  greater  part  of  'lis  domi- 
nions fell  to  the  lot  of  the  conqueror.  The  two  most  powerful  and  per- 
manent empires  were,  in  fact,  Syria,  founded  by  Seleiicus,  and  Egypt  by 
Ptolemy  Soler.  But  there  was  also  another  empire  at  that  time  existing 
which  demands  our  notice.  The  Parlhians,  originally  a  tribe  of  Scytlii  ins 
who  had  wandered  from  their  own  country,  at  length  settled  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Hyrcania,  and  were  successively  tributary  to  the  Assyrians, 
Babylonians,  Medes  and  Persians.  The  country  in  which  they  settled 
obtained  from  them  the  name  of  Parthia;  and  when  Alexander  invaded 
Asia,  they  submitted,  with  the  other  dependencies  of  the  Persian  empire. 
After  the  dfiith  of  the  Macedonian  conqueror,  Parthia  was  subject,  first  to 
Kumones,  then  to  Antigonus,  and  finally  to  the  kings  of  Syria  and  Babylon. 
In  the  reign  of  Antiochus  Theos,  the  rapacity  and  crimes  of  Agathocles, 
the  Syrian  governor,  roused  the  spirit  of  the  Parthians;  and,  under  Ar- 
saces,  a  man  of  great  military  talents,  they  expelled  their  oppressors,  and 
laid  the  foundation  of  an  empire  which  ultimately  extended  over  Asia,  a.o. 
350.  The  Syrians  attempted  in  vain  to  recover  this  province.  A  race  of 
able  and  vigilant  princes,  who  assumed  the  surname  of  Arcacida,  from  the 
founder  of  their  kingdom,  not  only  baffled  their  efforts,  but  so  increased 
in  power,  that  while  they  held  eighteen  tributary  kingdoms,  between  the 
Caspian  and  Arabian  seas,  they  even  for  a  time  disputed  with  the  Romans 
the  empire  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FROM    THE  WARS    OF   ROME   AND   CVRTHAGE,   TO    THE   BIRTH    OP   CHRIST. 

The  Romans,  who  for  more  than  five  hundred  years  had  been  constantly 
victorious,  met  with  an  opponent  in  Hannibal,  commander  of  the  Cartha- 
ginian forces,  whose  consummate  generalship  for  a  time  turned  the  tido 


<2 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OP  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


of  fortine,  and,  making  Italy  the  battle-field,  he  gallantly  opposed  on  their 
native  soil  the  hardy  veterans  of  Kome.  Long  and  doubtful  were  these 
sanguinary  contests;  but  in  the  end  the  Carthaginian  armies  were  recalled 
into  Africa,  which  the  Komans  had  invaded  ,  and  he  who,  at  the  battle  of 
Cannae,  had  struck  the  Roman  legions  with  terror,  was  totally  defeated  at 
Zama ;  by  which  the  second  Punic  war  was  concluded,  in  the  year  188  b.«\ 
In  forty  years  from  ihat  dale  the  fate  of  Carthage  was  ultimately  decided. 
The  Romans  having  declared  war  against  it  a  third  time,  used  all  their 
energies  for  accomplishing  its  final  destruction.  The  city  was  long  and 
fiercely  assailed ;  the  genius  of  the  younger  Scipio  at  length  triumphed 
over  the  desperate  vahiur  of  the  besieged ;  and  Carthage,  once  mistress  of 
the  sea  and  the  most  formidable  rival  of  Rome,  was  reduced  to  ashes,  and 
for  ever  blotted  from  the  list  of  independent  nations. 

During  the  contentions  between  Rome  and  Carthage,  a  confederacy  was 
formed  by  the  states  of  Greece,  under  the  name  of  the  Achaean  League, 
which  soon  eclipsed,  in  splendid  achievements  and  power,  both  Athens 
and  Sparta.    Weary  of  the  tyranny  of  the  Macedonians,  the  Grecian 
states  had  entered  into  this  compact  for  recovering  their  liberties ;  but 
having  imprudently  given  the  Romans  an  opportunity  of  intermedding  in 
their  afi"airs,  they  were  eventually  reduced  to  a  Roman  province,  under 
the  name  of  Aehaia.    This  celebrated  league  was  begun  about  the  year 
Q84  B.C.,  and  continued  formidable  for  more  than  130  years,  under  officers 
called  Prnnlors,  of  whom  Aratus  and  Philopoemen  were  the  most  renowned. 
About  this  period  we  read  of  the  direful  oppression  of  the  Jews  by  An- 
tiochus  Epiphanos.     After  their  return  from  the  Babylonish  captivity,  they 
continued  in  subjection  to  the  Persians  till  the  time  of  Alexander;  and 
subsequently,  as  the  fortune  of  either  Egypt  or  Syria  happened  to  prevail, 
they  were  under  its  dominion.    On  the  subjugation  of  Egypt  by  Antiochus 
■"ipiphanes,  tiie  Jews  being  treated  with  great  severity  by  him,  they  natu- 
rally, but  imprudently,  expressed  their  joy  on  hearing  a  report  of  his 
death ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  enraged  monarch  took  the  fiercest 
vengeance  on  them.    He  marched  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  army,  took 
Jerusalem  by  storm  in  170  b.c,  and  committed  the  most  horrid  cruelties 
on  the  inhabitants.    Their  religion  was  for  a  while  abolished,  their  altars 
defiled,  and  every  indignity  offered  to  the  people  that  tyranny  and  hate 
could  suggest.     An  image  of  Jupiter  Olympius  was  erected  in  the  holy 
place,  and  unclean  beasts  were  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  burgt  oflferings. 
But  the  Jews  soon  rallied;  and  under  Mattathias  the  true  worship  was 
restored  in  most  of  the  cities  of  Judea  ;  the  temple  was  purified  by  Judas 
Maccaba?us,  165  b.c  ;  and  a  long  series  of  wars  ensued  between  the 
Syrians  and  the  Jews,  in  which  the  latter  gained  many  signal  advantages. 
About  150  years  before  the  birth  of  Christ  the  principal  empires  and 
states  of  the  world  may  be  thus  enumerated.     In  Asia  were  the  empires 
of  Syria,  India  and  Parthia — each  of  them  powerful  and  extensive — with 
Arabia,  Pontus,  Armenia,  and  some  other  countries  of  less  importance. 
In  Africa  were  the  kingdoms  of  Egypt,  Ethiopia,  Numidia,  Mauritania, 
and  Getuha;  the  last  named  three,  now  that  Carthage  was  destroyed,  ap- 
pearing  to  the  eyes  of  the  ambitious  Romans  as  their  easy  prey.     In  Eu- 
rope there  were  none  able  to  oppose  the  Roman  legions,  save  the  Gauls 
and  some  of  the  nations  inhabiting  Spain.     It  was  not  long,  therefore, 
after  the  conquest  of  Carthage  and  Corinth  that  the  final  subjugation  ol 
Spain  was  resolved  on ;  for  all  tiie  possessions  which  the  Carthaginians 
held  in  that  country  had  already  fallen  into  tlir;  hands  of  the  victorious 
Romans.      They  accordingly  began  by  attacking  the  Lusitanians ;    but 
this  brave  people,  under  the  conduct  of  Viriatus,  a  leader  whose  skill, 
valour,  and  prudence  eminently  qualified  him  for  his  post,  long  bid  defi- 
ance to  tl.c  Roman  arms:  in  the  field  he  was  not  to  be  subdued ;  and  he 
at  last  met  his  death  from  the  hands  of  assassins  hired  by  his  treacherou.« 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENEUAL  HISTORY. 


43 


enemy.  The  Romans  now,  in  the  wantonness  of  their  power,  scrupled 
not  to  use  the  basest  and  most  corrupt  means  for  reducing  the  whole 
country;  and  though  many  tribes  bravely  maintained  their  independence 
for  years,  Spain  ultimately  became  a  Roman  province.  But  all-powerful 
as  Rome  had  now  become,  her  civil  and  political  condition  was  far  from 
enviable.  Her  conquests  in  Greece  and  Asia  brought  luxury,  cruelty,  and 
general  corruption  in  their  train ;  and  those  heroic  virtues  for  which  in 
the  early  days  of  the  republic  she  was  renowned,  had  totally  disappeared. 
We  must,  however,  reserve  for  its  proper  place  an  account  of  the  civil 
commotions,  proscriptions,  and  assassinations  which  followed ;  and  pass 
onward  in  our  brief  recital  of  such  events  as  peculiarly  appertain  to  gen- 
eral history. 

Attalus,  king  of  Pergamus,  had  left  all  his  goods  and  treasures,  by  will 
to  the  Roman  people ;  upon  which  his  kingdom  was  speedily  converted 
into  a  Roman  province,  under  the  name  of  Asia  Proper.  Next  followed 
the  conquest  of  the  Balearic  Isles  (now  called  Majorca,  Minorca  and  Iviga); 
Numidia  was  soon  afterwards  reduced ;  but  the  subjugation  of  Mauritania 
and  Getulia  was  for  a  time  delayed. 

While  Rome  was  approaching  her  zenith,  the  decline  of  the  Syrian 
empire  was  apparent.  The  civil  dissensions  between  the  two  brothers, 
Antiochus  Gryphus  and  Antiochus  Cyzicenus,  gave  an  opportunity  for 
the  cities  of  Tyre,  Sidon,  Ptolemais  and  Gaza,  to  declare  their  indepen- 
dence ;  while  the  Jews  not  only  recovered  their  liberty,  but  extended 
their  dominions  as  far  as  in  the  days  of  Solomon.  About  the  year  83  b.c, 
Tigranes,  king  of  Armenia,  became  master  of  Syria,  but  the  Romans  soon 
wrested  it  from  him,  and  added  it  to  the  immensely  extensive  possessions 
of  the  republic. 

Egypt,  which  had  hitherto  maintained  its  proper  station,  fell  after  the 
battle  of  Actium,  and,  like  its  predecessors,  was  reduced  to  a  Roman  pro- 
vince about  the  year  30  b.c  Rome  must  no  longer  be  regarded  as  a  re- 
public ;  and  its  change  from  that  form  of  government  to  an  empire  may 
be  looked  npon  as  advantap^eous  to  those  nations  who  were  still  free,  for 
the  inordinate  desire  of  conquest.which  had  hitherto  marked  the  Roman 
character,  for  a  time  seemed  to  be  lulled,  and  during  the  reign  of  Augustus 
the  temple  of  Janus  was  thrice  closed — a  ceremony  coeval  with  the  origin 
of  the  state,  .to  denote  that  it  was  at  peace  with  the  whole  world.  This 
pacific  prince  died  in  the  76th  year  of  his  age,  and  in  the  45th  year  of  his 
reign,  a.d.  14 ;  his  empire  extending,  in  Europe,  to  the  ocean,  the  Rhine 
and  the  Danube ;  in  Asia,  to  the  Euphrates ;  and  in  Africa,  to  Ethiopia 
and  the  sandy  deserts.  It  was  in  this  memorable  reign,  in  the  year  of* 
Rome  752  that  Jesus  Christ  was  born,  and  the  holy  religion  of  which  he 
was  the  founder,  persecuted  and  despised  though  it  was  at  first,  gradualbt 
spread  over  the  Roman  world. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FROM    THE    BEGINNING    OF    THE   CHRISTIAN    ERA,    TO    THE   APPEARANCE 

OF   MOHAMMED. 

In  the  year  67  a.  d.  the  memorable  war  with  the  Jews  commenced, 
which,  though  it  lasted  but  three  years,  ended  in  the  total  destruction  of 
their  city  and  nation,  after  enduring  all  the  horrors  of  war  carried  on  by 
sach  party  with  sanguinary  fury.  About  ten  years  after  this  event  the 
real  conquest  of  Britain  was  effected  by  Agricola.  The  empire  had  now 
reached  its  utmost  limits,  and  under  the  just  and  upright  Trajan,  Rome 
had  reason  to  rejoice,  not  merely  in  her  extent  of  territory,  but  in  the 
equitable  administration  of  her  laws,  and  in  the  virtue  and  wisdom  of  hei 


i4 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


senators.  Adrian  succeeded  Trajan,  and  followed  in  his  footsteps.  The 
decline  of  imperial  Rome  was,  however,  fast  approaching,  for  although 
Antoninus,  surnamed  the  Pious,  obtained  the  regard  of  his  subjects  and 
the  respect  of  foreigners,  living  in  peace  during  the  whole  of  his  reign, 
yet  scarcely  had  Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus  succeeded  to  the  throne,  be- 
fore the  Germanic  tribes  united,  as  in  the  time  of  Marius,  and  poured  in 
their  warlike  hordes  upon  Italy;  and,  while  they  grew  more  and  more 
formidable,  famine  and  pestilence  ravaged  many  of  the  Roman  provinces 
A.D.  180. 

From  this  time  repeated  incursions  of  hardy  adventurers  from  the  north 
of  Europe,  under  various  names,  look  place,  but  though  often  beaten,  they 
renewed  their  attempts  with  a  degree  of  courage  and  perseverance  that 
required  all  the  energy  and  superior  discipline  of  the  Roman  legions  to 
overcome.     From  the  death  of  Aurelius  to  the  reign  of  Dioclesian,  many 
of  the  Roman  emperors  were  mere  sensualists ;  there  were,  however, 
some  splendid  exceptions,  and  by  the  warlike  genius  of  such  the  incur- 
sions of  the  barbarians  were  from  time  to  time  arrested.    The  Romans 
had  also  for  a  long  period  met  with  a  most  powerful  adversary  in  the 
Persians,  and  when,  in  260,  the  emperor  Valerian  was  defeated  and  taken 
prisoner  by  them,  the  empire  seemed  to  be  hastening  to  utter  and  irreme- 
diable destruction.   While  Gallienus,  the  son  of  Valerian,  and  his  associate 
in  power  was  revelling  in  luxury  at  Rome,  numerous  claimants  of  the  im- 
perial  dignity  arose  in  the  different  provinces.     These  were  designated 
the  "  thirty  tyrants,"  (though  their  numbers  did  not  exceed  twenty,  and 
there  was  no  good  reason  for  designating  them  tyrants).    Their  dominion 
was,  however,  not  of  long  duration,  and  on  the  death  of  Gallienus  he  was 
succeeded  by  Claudius,  who  liad  the  merit  of  delivering  Italy  from  the 
Goths.    After  him  came  Aurelian,  who  introduced  order  into  the  state, 
restored  internal  tranquillity,  and  defeated  his  enemies  both  in  Europe  and 
Asia.     Under  Tacitus,  Probus  and  Cams,  the  empire  was  in  a  measure 
restored  to  its  former  lustre ;  but  the  barbarians  still  pressed  onward ;  and 
when  the  government  fell  into  the  hands  of  Dioclesian,  he  changed  its 
form,  sharing  the  imperial  dignity  with  Maximinian,  to  whom  he  com- 
mitted the  West,  while  he  ruled  in  the  East.    In  this  manner  was  the  gov- 
ernment administered  till  the  days  of  Constantine,  who  in  a.d.  330  re- 
moved the  imperial  seat  to  Byzantium,  which  he  named  Constantinople, 
became  a  convert  to  Christianity,  and  put  an  end  to  one  of  the  most  viru 
lent  persecutions  against  its  professors  that  ever  disgraced  the  world. 
^The  immediate  successors  of  Constantine  did  little  to  uphold  the  Roman 
'power,  and  Julian,  who  ascended  the  throne  in  361,  renounced  Christianity 
and  openly  professed  the  ancient  religion,  but  he  was  both  too  politic  and 
too  humane  to  persecute  his  Christian  subjects.     We  find,  however,  that 
the  decline  of  the  empire  was  everywhere  visible.     After  his  death  its  in- 
ternal corruption  and  weakness  continued  to  increase ;  that  strict  discipline 
which  had  formerly  rendered  the  Roman  legions  invincible,  relaxed,  and 
while  corruption  and  injustice  rendered  the  governiiient  odious  at  home,  its 
frontier  towns  were  attacked  and  its  distant  provinces  overrun  by  fierce 
and  uncivilized  hordes  issuing  from  the  nortli,  east  and  west.    It  is  at  this 
period  that  we  read  of  Alaric,  the  Visigoth,  who  plundered  Rome,  a.  d. 
409;  of  Genseric,  the  powerful  king  of  the  Vandals;  and  of  Attila,  the 
Hun,  emphatically  termed  "  the  scourge  of  God."    In  fact,  the  Scythians, 
Sarmatians,  Goths,  Huns,  Vandals,  and  other  barbarous  nations,  watched 
all  occasions  to  break  into  it,  and  though  some  of  the  emperors  bravely 
withstood  their  attacks,  no  efforts  could  finally  stem  the  ruthless  torrent 
which  kept  pouring  in  on  all  sides.    At  length  the  Heruli,  a  people  who 
migrated  from  the  shores  of  the  Baltic,  and  had  grown  formidable  as  they 
proceeded  southwards,  appeared  in  Italy.     They  were  headed  by  the 
valiant  Odoace-,  and  being  joined  by  other  tribes,  quickly  became  mastcrft 


OUTLINE  SK  CTCH  OF  OENBBAL  HISTORY 


45 


of  Italy,  and  the  city  of  Rome  itself  surrendered  to  their  victorious  armsi 
A.D.  476. 

The  fall  of  the  western  empire  was  thus  consummated,  but  the  Romans 
still  maintained  their  sway  at  Constantinople.  The  eastern  empire,  in 
fact,  at  this  time  comprehended  all  Asia  Minor  and  Syria,  Egypt  and 
Greece  ;  but  neither  its  domestic  management  nor  its  military  prowess 
gave  hopes  of  a  lengthened  dominion.  Luxury,  effeminacy,  and  supersti- 
tion sapped  its  vitals ;  contmued  wars  with  the  Persians,  Bulgarians,  and 
other  barbarous  nations,  exhausted  its  strength;  and  a  similar  fate  to  that 
of  the  weetern  empire  appeared  to  await  it  at  no  very  distant  period. 
Still,  as  we  follow  the  stream  of  history,  we  shall  find  that  it  not  only 
survived  the  wreck  for  several  centuries,  but  at  times  displayed  an  energy 
and  power  wortiiy  of  the  Roman  name. 

Revolutions  succeeded  one  another  among  the  savage  conquerors  of  the 
West  with  fearful  rapidity.  The  Heruli  under  Odoacer  were  driven  out 
by  the  Goths  under  Theodoric.  The  Goths  were  expelled  by  the  Romans 
under  their  able  general  Belisarius,  but  while  he  was  absent  quelling  an 
insurrection  in  Africa,  they  regained  their  footing,  and  again  took  posses- 
sion of  Rome.  The  Franks  next  invaded  Italy,  and  made  themselves 
masters  of  the  province  of  Vcnetia,  but  at  last  the  superior  fortune  of  the 
emperor  Justinian  prevailed,  and  the  Goths  were  finally  subdued  by  his 
pro-consul  Narses,  a.  d.  552.  From  that  time  tiii  the  year  568,  Narses 
governed  Italy  with  great  prudence  and  success,  as  a  province  of  the 
eastern  empire,  but  having  incurred  the  emperor's  displeasure,  Longinua 
was  appointed  to  succeed  him,  and  was  invested  with  absolute  power. 
He  assumed  the  title  of  exarch,  and  resided  at  Ravenna,  whence  his  gov- 
ernment was  called  the  exarchate  of  Ravenna,  and  having  placed  in  each 
city  of  Italy  a  governor,  whom  he  distinguished  with  the  title  of  duke,  he 
abolished  the  name  of  senate  and  consuls  at  Rome.  But  while  he  was 
establishing  this  new  sovereignty,  a  great  portion  of  Italy  was  overrun  by 
the  Lombards.  In  short,  we  find  that  they  steadily  marched  on  from  Pan- 
nonia,  accompanied  by  an  army  of  Saxon  allies,  and  Wire  not  long  before 
they  became  masters  of  all  Italy,  with  the  exception  of  Rome,  Ravenna, 
and  some  of  the  eastern  seacoast. 

A  warlike  nation  called  Franks,  who  were  divided  into  several  tribes, 
nad  been  gradually  ri?  ing  into  importance,  and  quitting  the  banks  of  the 
Lower  Rhine,  they  had  made  themselves  masters  of  no  inconsiderable  part 
of  Gaul.  A  warlike  and  ambitious  chief  among  them,  named  Clovis,  un- 
dertook the  conquest  of  the  whoio  country,  and  having  defeated  and  killed 
his  powerful  rival,  Alaric,  king  of  the  Goths,  he  possessed  himself  of  all 
the  countries  lying  between  the  Rhine  and  the  Loire,  and  thus  became  the 
founder  of  the  French  monarchy,  a.d.  487. 

A  few  years  before  the  conquest  of  Rome  by  the  Heruli,  the  Visigoths 
erected  a  kingdom  in  Spain,  and  as  they  advanced  eastward,  about  the 
same  time  that  Clovis  was  extending  his  conquests  to  the  West,  the  river 
Loire  was  the  natural  boundary  of  the  two  kingdoms ;  but  a  war  soon 
broke  out  between  thiem,  which  ended  in  favour  of  Clovis.  Another  king- 
dom had  previously  been  founded  in  the  western  parts  of  Spain  by  the 
Suevi,  who  were  subdued  by  the  Goths  under  Theodoric,  in  409;  and 
eventually,  a.d.  584,  these  restless  warriors  subjugated  nearly  the  whole 

of  S"5li'l. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FROM    THE    RISE   OF   MOHAMMED,   TO   THE   COMMENCEMENT    OF   TUB 

CRUSADES. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  for  a  moment  to  a  general  view  of  the 
world  as  it  existed  in  the  sixth  century  of  the  Christian  era.    The  Roman 


40 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


empire  in  the  west  was  annihilated,  and  various  nations  of  northern  ex- 
traction were  either  fiercely  contending  with  each  other,  or  meditating 
new  conquests ;  the  eastern  empire  was  continually  at  war,  contending 
with  the  Persians  on  one  side,  or  harrassed  by  the  attacks  of  the  Huns 
and  other  tribes  on  its  northern  frontiers,  while  it  was  agitated  and  weak- 
cned  by  religious  and  political  animosities.  The  Indians  and  other  ori 
ental  nations,  unaccustomed  to  war,  were  ready  to  fall  a  prey  to  the  first 
powerful  invader,  while  the  fiery  inhabitants  of  Arabia,  from  their  earliest 
origin  accustomed  to  bold  and  predatory  warfare,  were  as  ready  to  under- 
take any  enterprise  which  seemed  to  promise  an  adequate  reward. 

This,  then,  was  the  very  nick  of  time  most  favourable  for  such  a  revo- 
lution in  the  world  as  was  undertaken  by  the  wily  and  daring  Mohammed 
(or  Mahomet),  wha,  foreseeing  the  power  and  glory  that  awaited  him  if 
success  should  crown  his  efforts,  assumed  the  title  of  "  prophet,"  and 
professed  to  have  received  a  direct  commission  from  God  to  become,  the 
founder  of  a  new  religion,  a.d.  622.  This  forms  a  marked  epoch  in  chro 
nology,  and  is  designated  the  Hegira,  or  Flight  of  Mohammed.  He  at  first 
endeavoured  by  the  force  of  his  persuasive  eloquence  alone  to  make  pro- 
selytes, but  finding  himself  ere  long  at  the  head  of  many  thousand  war- 
like  followers  who  acknowledged  that  "  there  was  but  one  God,  and  that 
Mohammed  was  his  prophet,"  he  took  advantage  of  their  enthusiasm,  and 
proceeded  in  the  work  of  conquest.  With  a  celerity  truly  surprising,  the 
armies  of  the  prophet  and  his  successors  overran  Syria,  Palestine,  Persia. 
Bukhana  and  India.  On  the  west  their  empire  soon  extended  over  Egypt, 
Barbary,  Spain,  Sicily,  &c.  But  Mohammed  who  died  in  the  63d  year 
of  his  age,  did  not  secure  the  succession,  or  give  any  directions  concerning 
it,  and  the  consequence  was  that  the  caliphate  was  seized  by  many 
usurpers,  dissensions  broke  out  among  the  "  true  believers,"  and  in  the 
course  of  time  this  great  empire,  like  the  others  which  we  have  noticed, 
declined  in  importance.  The  religion,  however,  still  exists,  and  the  tem- 
poral power  of  those  who  profess  it  is  by  no  means  trifling. 

While  this  extraordinary  revolution  was  going  on  in  the  East,  and  the 
Arabian  arms  were  conquering  "  in  the  name  of  God  and  the  prophet," 
the  western  nations  ^s  zealously  upheld  the  doctrines  promulgated  by  the 
pope.  From  the  days  of  Constantine  the  Roman  pontiffs  had  been  gradu- 
ally extending  their  power,  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual,  and  at  the  period 
of  which  we  are  now  speaking,  not  only  was  their  sacerdotal  dominion 
firmly  established,  but  their  political  influence  was  often  exerted  for  or 
against  those  princes  of  surrounding  states  as  best  suited  the  interests  of 
the  church.  When,  in  726,  Luitprand,  king  of  the  Lombards,  had  taken 
Ravenna,  and  expelled  the  exarch,  the  pope  undertooR  to  restore  him.  and 
his  restoration  vas  accordingly  speedily  effected.  The  authority  of  the 
Byzantine  emperors  in  Rome,  was,  indeed,  little  more  than  nominal,  and 
the  interference  of  the  popes  in  the  temporal  concerns  of  the  different 
European  monarchies  was  of  the  most  obnoxious  and  intolerable  kind. 

We  have  seen  that  the  reduction  of  Gaul  was  effected  by  Clovis,  the 
Frank,  who  is  styled  the  founder  of  the  French  monarchy.  That  king- 
dom, it  may  be  observed  was  subsequently  divided  into  several  petty  sove- 
reignties, and  while  the  princes  weakened  each  other  by  their  contests, 
the  nobles  increased  in  power,  leaving  their  kings  little  more  than  the 
shadow  of  royalty.  At  length  they  gave  themselves  up  to  a  Hfe  of  indo- 
lence and  ease,  and  abandoned  the  reins  of  government  to  officers  called 
mayors  of  the  palace,  of  whom  the  most  celebrated  were  Charles  Martel, 
and  his  son  Pepin  the  Litile,  who  deposed  Childeric,  and  became  the 
founder  of  the  Carlovingian  or  second  royal  race  of  France.  Of  the 
princes  of  this  race  we  shall  here  only  speak  of  Carolus  Magnus,  after 
wards  called  Charlemagne,  on  account  of  the  extent  of  his  conquests,  his 
restoration  of  the  western  empire,  and  the  splendour  of  his  reign.    Very 


CUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


47 


soon  after  his  accession  to  the  throne,  the  Saxons,  who  had  long  been 
tributaries  to  France,  revolted,  and  bravely  and  obstinately  contended  for 
their  freedom,  but  they  were  at  last  obliged  to  submit.  In  774,  after  the 
reduction  of  Pavia,  and  the  capture  of  Didier,  the  last  king  of  the  Lom- 
bards, Charlemagne  repaired  to  Milan  and  was  there  crowned  king  of 
Italy.  From  this  time  he  was  engaged  in  an  almost  unceasing  warfare 
against  the  Moors  in  Spain,  the  Saxons  and  Huns  in  Germany,  the  party 
of  llie  eastern  emperor  in  Italy,  and  the  Normans,  who  infested  his  mari- 
time provinces.  Having  subdued  his  enemies,  he  repaired  to  Rome,  in 
the  year  800,  for  the  fourth  and  last  time,  and  on  Christmas-day,  while 
assisting  at  the  celebration  of  mass,  the  pope,  Leo  III.,  suddenly  and  un- 
expectedly crowned  him  emperor  of  the  Romans,  from  which  time  he  was 
honored  with  the  title  of  Charlemagne,  or  Ciiarles  the  Great.  At  the 
time  of  his  death,  which  occurred  in  814,  he  had  reduced  all  that  part  of 
Spain  which  lies  between  the  Pyrenees  and  the  Ebro,  seized  Italy  from 
the  Alps  to  the  borders  of  Calabria,  and  also  added  to  his  dominions  all 
Germany  south  of  the  Eyder,  and  Pannonia.  The  world  was  therefore 
once  more  shared  among  three  great  powers.  The  empire  of  the  \rabs 
or  Saracens  extended  from  the  Ganges  to  Spain,  compreliending  almost 
all  of  Asia  and  Africa  which  has  ever  been  known  to  Europeans,  China 
and  Japan  excepted.  The  eastern  Roman  empire  was  reduced  to  Greece, 
Asia  Minor,  and  the  provinces  adjoining  Italy.  And  the  empire  of  the 
west,  under  Charlemagne,  comprehended  France,  Germany,  and  the 
greater  part  of  Italy.  The  son  and  successor  of  Charlemagne  was  Louis 
I.,  at  whose  death  the  restored  empire  of  the  west  was  divided,  in  840, 
among  his  four  sons :  Lotharius  was  emperor ;  Pepin  king  of  Aquitain ; 
Louis  II.  king  of  Germany ;  and  Charles  II.  surnamed  the  Bald,  king  of 
France  :  a  division  that  proved  the  source  of  p#petual  contentions.  The 
French  retained  the  imperial  title  under  eight  sovereigns,  till  912,  when 
Louis  III.  the  last  king  of  Germany  of  the  race  of  Charlemagne,  dying 
without  male  issue,  his  son-in-law,  Conrad,  count  of  Franeonia,  was 
elected  emperor  of  Germany.  Thus  the  empire  passed  to  the  Germans, 
and  became  elective,  h.y  the  suflFrages  of  the  princes,  lords,  and  deputies 
of  cities,  who  assumed  the  title  of  electors. 

During  the  period  we  have  been  describing,  the  union  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  kingdoms  was  effected  by  Egbert,  the  king  of  Wessex,  a.d.  827. 
The  pirates  of  Scandinavia,  too,  about  this  time  began  to  make  their  ap- 
pearance in  large  fleets,  and  spread  ddPlistation  on  the  shores  of  France 
and  other  kingdoms  of  continental  Europe.  In  England,  where  they  were 
called  Danes,  these  Northmen  harrassed  the  coast  in  a  similar  manner, 
and,  though  frequently  repulsed,  in  the  course  of  time  they  had  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  monarchs  of  their  own  nation  seated  on  the  throne  of 
England.  The  Saxon  race  was,  however,  restored  in  1041,  in  the  person 
of  Edward  surnamed  the  Confessor,  who,  dying  without  issue,  nominated 
William,  duke  of  Normandy,  to  be  his  successor.  Here  we  may  just  re- 
mark, that  the  predatory  tribes  of  Northmen,  of  whom  we  have  before 
spoken,  at  different  times  overran  and  ravaged  most  countries  of  Europe, 
and  a  party  having  entered  France,  under  their  leader  RoUo,  Chailes  the 
Simple  ceded  to  them,  in  912,  the  province  of  Neiistria.  On  this  occasion 
RoUo  embraced  Christianity,  changed  his  name  to  Robert,  and  that  of  his 
duchy  to  Normandy.    From  him  was  William  the  Conqueror  descended. 

At  no  period  of  the  history  of  the  world  do  we  find  it  in  a  more  confused 
and  distracted  state,  than  at  the  epoch  to  which  we  have  now  arrived.  It 
appears,  indeed,  like  one  vast  battle-field.  Our  attention,  however,  is 
principally  attracted  by  the  preponderating  influence  of  Germany,  in  the 
west ;  the  decline  of  the  Byzantine  empire,  and  the  increase  of  that  of 
the  Turks,  in  the  east ;  the  divisions  among  the  Saracens  of  Spain,  and 
their  subjugation  by  those  of  Africa.    Civilization  was  taking  a  retrogade 


4«  OUTLIITK  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 

course;  and  while  the  feudal  system  and  the  spirit  of  chivalry,  assisted  by 
tue  papal  superstitions,  were  rivetting  the  chains  of  barbarism  in  one  part 
of  the  world,  the  conquests  and  spoliations  of  the  Turks,  like  those  of  the 
Qoths  and  Huns  before  noticed,  were  fast  obliterating  the  faint  traces  of 
human  science  and  learning  that  remained  in  the  other.  At  last  the  Cru 
aades  (though  they  must  ever  be  deplored  as  the  wretched  oftspring  of  en 
thusiasm  and  misguided  zeal),  by  directing  the  attention  of  Europeans  to 
one  particular  object,  made  them  in  some  measure  suspend  the  slaughter 
of  one  another,  aud  were  the  means  of  extricating  Christendom  from  a 
stale  of  political  bondage. 


CHAPTER  IX 

FROM  THE  FIRST  CRUSADE,  TO   THE  DEATH   OF  8ALADIN. 

The  world,  as  we  have  seen,  was  at  this  time  divided  inio  two  grand 
religious  parties,  namely,  the  Christians  and  Mohammedans,  each  of  whom 
effected  to  regard  the  small  territory  of  Palestine,  which  they  called  the 
Holy  Land,  as  an  invaluable  acquisition.    The  origin  of  the  crusades  may 
therefore  be  attributed  to  a  superstitious  veneration  for  the  places  where 
our  Saviour  had  lived  and  performed  his  miracles,  which  annually  brought 
vast  numbers  of  pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  Christendom  to  visit  the  city 
of  Jerusalem,  and  those  particular  spots  in  its  vicinity  which  had  been 
rendered  especially  memorable  by  his  preaching,  sufferings,  and  death. 
Although  the  Saracens,  under  Omar,  their  second  caliph,  had  taken  Jeru- 
salem, and  conquered  Palestine,  in  the  7th  century,  they  allowed  the  pil 
grims  to  continue  to  visit^ieir  favourite  haunts  on  payment  of  a  small  tri 
bute.    In  1065,  however,  the  Turks  wrested  the  holy  city,  as  it  was  styled 
from  the  Saracens ;  and,  being  much  mora  fierce  and  barbarous,  the  pil 
grims  could  no  longer  with  safety  perform  their  devotions;   and  Europe 
resounded  with  complaints  against  the  infidel  possessors  of  Palestine,  who 
profaned  the  holy  places,  aud  so  cruelly  treated  the  devotees.    Europe 
was  at  the  time  full  of  enthusiastic  warriors,  who  wanted  but  little  stimu- 
lus to  lead  them  to  the  field  of  glory ;  and  pope  Gregory  VII.  had  already 
meditated  and  urged  the  union  of  Christendom  against  the  religion  of  Mo- 
hammed.    Besides  the  religious  motive  of  freeing  Jerusalem  from  the  do- 
minion of  the  Turks,  some  views  <V  ambition  might  have  induced  the  court 
of  Rome  to  engage  in  this  project.    But  whatever  might  have  been  the 
chief  motives,  an  opportunity  soon  presented  itself,  which  was  seized  with 
avidity.    A  bold  enthusiast,  named  Peter,  who  from  his  ascetic  life  was 
called  the  Hermit,  having  been  on  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  represented 
the  oppression  of  the  holy  city,  and  the  cruel  treatment  which  the  Chris- 
tians suffered,  in  terms  so  appalling  to  Urban  II.  (who  filled  the  papal  see 
at  the  time),  that  the  pontiff  listened  to  his  scheme  for  uniting  all  the 
Christian  states  against  the  Turks,  a. id  leadingarmiesinto  Asia,  sufficient 
in  number  and  prowess  to  conquer  these  warlike  people  by  when  the 
Holy  Land  was  held  in  subjection.    In  consequence  of  tliis  a  couiici  was 
summoned,  and  a  meeting  of  clergy  and  laity  took  place  in  a  field  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Placentia,  at  which  4000  ecclesiastics  and  30,000  seculars 
were  present.     Both  Peter  the  Hermit  and  the  Pope,  represented  in  the 
most  vivid  colours  the  direful  situation  of  their  brethren  in  the  East,  and 
the  indignity  offered  to  the  religion  of  Christ.    Their  speeches  were  suited 
to  the  passions  of  their  hearers,  and  so  well  seconded  by  the  adventurou? 
spirit  of  the  times,  that  a  violent  and  tumultuous  declaration  of  war  burs? 
forth  from  all  sides ;  and  the  assembled  multitude  devoted  themselves  cheer 
fully  to  a  service  that  they  believed  to  be  meritorious  in  the  sight  of  Heaver 
The  zealous  Peter  next  visited  the  chief  cities  and  sovereigns  of  Chtir 


'1 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  QKNEHAL  HISTOEY. 


49 


teiulom,  culling  upon  them  to  rescue  the  Rppulchre  of  their  Saviour  from 
till*  tyriinnous  grasp  of  the  Turks.  Another  council  was  speedily  held  at 
Clermont,  in  AnVf  i«:ne,  which  was  attended  by  many  princes,  and  the 
greatest  prelates  and  nobles;  and  when  Urban  and  the  Hermit  renewed 
.their  pathetic  declamations,  the  whole  assembly  burst  forth  in  a  general 
exclamation.  "It  is  the  will  of  Go  J!"  words  which  were  immediately  at- 
tributed to  divine  inspiration,  and  adopted  as  the  signal  of  rendezvous  and 
battle.  Men  of  all  ranks  now  flew  to  arms  with  the  utmost  ardour ;  and  a 
cross  of  red  cloth  was  affixed  to  their  right  shoulder;  hence  the  names  of 
erusade  (or  croisade)  and  crusaders  were  derived  to  express  this  new  expe- 
dition professedly  undertaken  on  religious  grounds.  However  imprudent 
the  project,  the  prevailing  taste  and  prejudices  of  the  age  occasioned  its 
being  adopted  without  examination.  Independent  of  this,  their  passions 
wer&  absorbed  in  their  love  of  war ;  they  were  delighted  with  the  thoughts 
of  adventures,  and  the  brave  were  attracted  by  the  hopes  of  gain  as  well 
as  with  the  love  of  glory.  What  was  not  to  be  expected  from  the  valour 
of  an  infimte  number  of  warriors  fighting  under  the  banners  of  the  cross  I 
No  means  were  left  unemployed  to  swell  their  ranks.  The  rich  and  poor, 
the  saintly  and  the  criminal,  were  alike  eager  to  show  their  devotion  in 
the  cause.  Sovereigns  shared  in  and  applauded  it ;  the  nobility  with  their 
vassals  engaged  in  it ;  and  the  clergy  not  only  loudly  extolled  it  from  the 
pulpit,  but  taught  the  people  to  consider  it  as  an  atonement  for  their  sins. 
No  wonder  then  that  the  number  of  adventurers  at  last  became  so  numer- 
ous, that  their  leaders  grew  apprehensive,  lest  the  greatness  of  the  arma- 
ment should  disappoint  its  purpose.  Some  were  elated  at  the  prospects 
of  worldly  advantage  which  opened  to  their  view  as  they  beheld  in  per- 
spective the  rich  conquests  in  Asia ;  others  thought  of  the  expiation  of 
their  offences  in  the  tumult  of  war,  and  rejoiced  that  they  could  gratify 
their  inclinations  while  performing  a  sacred  duty.  If  they  succeeded,  their 
fort^me  seemed  to  be  secured  in  this  world ;  if  they  died,  a  crown  of  mar- 
tyrdom was  promised  in  the  next.  So  many  causes  uniting  had  almost 
an  insurmountable  power ;  and  their  concurrence  is  one  of  the  most  curi- 
ous phenomena  to  be  met  with  in  history. 

An  undisciplined  multitude,  computed  at  three  hundred  thousand  men, 
led  the  way,  under  the  command  of  Peter  the  Hermit,  and  a  soldier  of  for- 
tune, called  Walter  the  Moneyless.  They  passed  through  Hungary  and 
Bulgaria,  towards  Constantinople  ;  and  trusting  to  supernatural  aid  for  the 
supply  of  their  wants,  they  made  no  provision  for  subsistence  on  their 
march.  They  were,  in  fact,  composed  partly  of  fanatics  and  partly  of 
wretclies  bent  on  plunder ;  and  the  result  was,  as  might  have  been  expect- 
ed, tliat  the  enraged  inhabitants  of  the  countries  which  they  pillaged  fell 
upon  and  nearly  annihilated  them  before  they  could  reach  Constantinople, 
the  place  apoointed  for  their  general  rendezvous.  The  more  disciplined 
armies  followed  soon  after.  Among  their  leaders  were  the  celebrated 
Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  with  his  brothers,  Baldwin  and  Eustace ;  Robert, 
duke  of  Normandy ;  Hugh,  brother  of  Philip  I.,  king  of  France;  Robert, 
earl  of  Flanders  ;  Raymond,  count  of  Toulouse,  and  other  experienced 
commanders.  Thus  led,  this  host  of  warriors  traversed  Germany  and 
Hungary,  passed  over  the  straits  of  Gallipoli,  conquered  Nice  in  1097,  An- 
tiodi  and  Kdessa  in  1098,  and  lastly,  Jerusalem,  m  1099;  of  which  city 
Godfrey  of  Bouillon  was  chosen  king ;  but  he  refused  to  bear  that  title  in 
the  Holy  Land;  and  died  in  1100.  In  1102,  an  army  of  260,000  men  left 
Europe  on  the  same  destination ;  they  perished,  however,  partly  on  the 
march,  and  partly  by  the  sword  of  the  sultan  of  Iconium.  Such  was  the 
issue  of  the  first  crusnde  ;  but  the  spirit  which  had  been  thus  excited  was 
not  to  be  so  readily  extinguished ;  a  second,  a  third,  and  several  other  cru- 
sades were  undertaken  (Hiring  a  succession  of  almost  two  hundred  years, 
ind  ended  in  ver^  sir  lults.     In  1301,  the  town  of  Aero,  or  Ptole- 

1.-4 


50  OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 

mais,  in  wliicli  the  descendaiita  of  (Jodfrey  still  maiiitiiiiied  the  regal  title, 
was  plundered  by  the  sultan  of  Egypt,  and  the  Christians  were  driven  out 
of  Syria. 

Three  monastic  and  military  onlers,  the  Hospitallers,  the  Templars,  and 
Teutonic  kniglils,  were  instituted  at  Jerusalem,  to  protect  the  pilgrims 
from  the  attacks  of  the  Turks.  In  this  age  the  sacred  was  so  confounded 
with  the  profane,  that  it  was  thought  the  virtues  and  austerities  of  the 
monk  might  be  united  with  the  warlike  qualities  and  passions  of  the  sol- 
dier. The  new  orders,  loaded  witli  wealth  and  particular  privileges,  in  a 
short  time  became  greedy,  licentious,  and  insolent  warriors,  enemies  of 
one  another,  and  by  tlieir  mutual  hatred  weakened  the  cause  of  Christian- 
ity. What  happened  before  in  Europe  was  likewise  seen  in  Asia:  every 
lord  wanted  to  erect  a  sovereign  power;  principalities  were  subdivided 
into  feifs  ;  discord  prevailed,  and  the  Turks  would  soon  have  destroyed 
iliem,  if  they  had  not  likewise  been  divided  among  themselves. 

The  Ciiristiaii  empire  in  the  East  extended  at  this  period  from  the  bor- 
ders of  Egypt  to  Armenia ;  but  it  was  encompassed  by  powerful  enemies, 
and  its  population,  though  brave,  was  by  no  means  considerable.     The 
Turks  had  already  taken  Edessa,  and  there  was  great  reason  to  be  appre- 
hensive for  the  fate  of  Jerusalem,  when  Eugenius  III.,  fifty  years  after  the 
beginning  of  the  crusades,  was  solicited  by  deputies  from  the  East  to  re- 
new them.    This  time  the  monk  St.  Bernard  took  upon  himself  the  office 
of  its  chief  advocate.     He  is  represented  as  running  from  town  to  town,  and 
though  ignorant  of  the  language  of  the  country,  yet  making  the  people  fol- 
low him,  and  performing  numberless  miracles.     He  accordingly  every- 
where gained  an  influence,  of  which  tiiere  had  been  no  parallel ;   yet  his 
success  could  scarcely  keep  pace  with  his  zealous  wishes.      Undei*  the 
humble  habit  of  a  monk,  Bernard  enjoyed  a  greater  respect  than  was  paid 
to  the  most  powerful  princes  ;  he  was  as  eloquent  as  he  was  enthusiastic, 
and  obtained  an  unbounded  influence  over  the  minds  of  the  people.    The 
emperor  Conrad,  who  first  listened  to  him  with  a  resolution  to  oppose 
those  dangerous  emigrations,  concluded  with  enrolliiig  himself.     Neither 
could  Louis  VII.,  king  of  France,  resist  the  appeal  of  the  orator.     The 
people  abandoned  their  habitations  in  crowds;  the  nobles  sold  their  lands 
and  laid  the  price  at  his  feet ;  and  nearly  a  million  of  men  solicited  to  be 
enrolled  among  the  champions  of  Christianity.     It  is  said  that  each  of  the 
armies  had  70,000  "men  at  arms  :"  these  consisted  of  the  nobility,  who 
were  heav)'  armed,  and  followed  by  a  much  more  numerous  body  of  light 
cavalry.     The  number  of  infantry  was  immense.     The  emperor  Conrad 
was  the  first  that  set  out :  he  was  the  brother-in-law  of  Manuel- Comenus, 
at  that  time  reigning  in  Constantinople;  but  the  Greeks,  it  is  said,  appre- 
hensive that  similar  excesses  would  be  committed  by  the  crusaders  as  in 
the  former  expedition,  furnished  them  with  treacherous  guides,  which  led 
to  their  destruction ;  his  army  was  almost  annihilated ;   upon  which  he 
fled  to  Antioch,  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem,  and  returned  to  Europe 
with  a  mere  handful  of  men.    Louis  met  with  similar  disasters,  and  fol- 
lowed the  example  of  Conrad ;   so  that  when  they  were  compelled  to 
withdraw,  they  left  the  Holy  Land  in  a  much  weaker  condition  than  they 
had  found  it. 

Expeditions  so  ill  planned  and  ill  conducted,  served  only  to  animate 
the  Turks  to  the  destruction  of  the  Christians  of  Jerusalem,  and  to  show 
them  the  little  difliculty  there  would  be  in  expelling  them.  Noradin, 
whom  they  chose  for  their  leader,  promoted  this  design,  and  Saladin,  his 
successor,  completed  the  work.  The  latter,  after  having  usurped  Syriz, 
triumphed  over  the  Persians,  conquered  Egypt,  and  made  himself  master 
of  dominions  that  extended  to  the  Oxus,  returned  by  sea,  in  order  to 
strip  the  Europeans  of  the  places  they  still  retained.  Damascus,  Aleppo, 
and  Acre,  opened  their  gates  to  the  conqueror,  who,  after  having  artfully 


1 5 


'  H^Trr^T^^r^f^^^T' 


■M.I       ^1      I     11     1^^ 


OUTLINE  «KETCH  OF  GENEttAL  HISTORY. 


61 


drawn  tho  Christian  army  into  narrow  dofilea,  wlu-re  lio  coininanded  the 
passes,  obliged  them  to  surrender,  witii  Lusijjiian,  their  king  ;  a.  d.  1187. 
Me  tlien  marched  towards  Jerusalem,  which,  being  in  a  manner  deTence. 
less,  was  easily  taken  ;  and  thus  he  destroyed  for  ever  the  little  kingdom 
whicli  had  not  subsisted  a  century,  and  for  tiie  acquisition  of  which  by 
the  Christians  so  much  intrr\st  had  been  excited,  and  so  much  blood  had 
been  shed. 

Tlie  news  of  the  loss  of  the  Holy  Laud  spread  consternation  in  Europe. 
Urban  III.,  who  had  exerted  all  his  inlluencc,  spiritual  and  temporal,  to 
prevent  that  misfortune,  died  of  grief  soon  after  the  fatal  news  reach^ 
his  ear.  The  Christian  princes  suspended  tlieir  quarrels,  -md  the  desire 
of  recovering  .lerusalem  produced  a  third  crusade  ;  a.  d.  1189.  This  waa 
infinitely  better  planned  tiian  the  former  ones,  and  gave  the  most  splen- 
did hopes.  Three  princes  of  distinguished  merit,  who  would  have  ex- 
cited tho  admiration  of  any  age,  were  the  leaders  of  this  expedition. 
Frederic  I.,  surnamed  liarbarossa,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  em- 
perors that  ever  governed  Germany,  advanced  by  land,  at  the  head  of 
150,000  men.  Philip-Augustus,  king  of  France,  also  conducted  thither  a 
large  and  well-appointed  army ;  while  Richard  Coeur-de-Lion,  king  of 
England,  the  hero  of  tills  crusade,  set  out  with  his  nobles  and  the  flower 
of  his  troops.  Isaac  Angelus,  the  emperor  of  Constantinople,  looking 
upon  the  crusaders  as  intruders,  had  formed  an  alliance  with  Saladin  and 
the  sultan  of  Iconium;  but  Frederic  triumphed  over  the  obstacles  which 
were  opposed  to  him,  and  though  he  found  hostile  armies  everywhere  on 
his  march,  he  obtained  many  signal  victories.  In  this  manner  he  was 
proceeding  towards  Palestine,  when,  after  crossing  Cilicia,  he  met  his 
death  from  having  incautiously  bathed  in  the  Cydnus,  the  extreme  cold- 
ness of  which  had  fifteen  hundred  years  before  nearly  proved  fatal  to 
Alexander. 

Philip  of  France,  and  Richard  the  "lion-hearted"  king  of  England, 
though  ambitious  rivals,  were  apparently  united  in  their  design  of  carry- 
ing on  the  holy  war;  and,  in  order  to  avoid  the  Greeks,  they  prudently 
preferred  going  by  sea.  Philip,  who  arrived  first,  distinguished  himself 
in  several  engagements  with  the  Saracens,  took  many  places,  and  having 
made  himself  master  of  the  open  country,  laid  siege  to  Acre.  In  the 
meantime,  Richard  was  advaricing  to  second  the  efforts  of  the  French 
monarch ;  and  on  his  arrival  they  found  that  their  united  forces  amounted 
to  about  300,000  men.  There  was,  however,  no  real  union  among  the 
leaders.  Philip,  jealous  of  the  heroic  character  of  his  rival,  and  tired  of 
the  fruitless  expedition,  embarked  with  the  greatest  part  of  his  army  for 
France,  having  first  sworn  not  to  attack  the  possessions  of  Richard  until 
the  return  of  both  to  their  dominions.  Cceur-de-Lion  now  became  sole 
master  of  the  operations,  and  resumed  the  siege  of  Acre,  which  at  length 
capitulated ;  he  defeated  the  sultan  in  several  desperate  encounters,  and 
by  prodigies  of  valour  and  military  skill,  forced  victory  from  the  standards 
of  the  brave  Saladin,  who  till  then  had  been  deemed  invincible.  While 
Richard  was  pursuing  his  successes,  and  on  the  eve  of  reapmg  all  the 
fruits  of  his  toil,  he  learned  that  Philip,  on  his  return  to  France,  had  in- 
cited his  (Richard's)  brother  to  take  up  arms  against  him,  and  was  attack- 
ing the  English  provinces  in  that  kingdom.  Thus  forced  to  sacrifice  his 
expectations  in  the  East  to  the  interest  and  defence  of  his  native  domin- 
ions, he  renounced,  with  rage  and  vexation,  the  laurels  he  had  won,  and 
his  hopes  of  future  conquest.  He  then  agreed  to  a  truce  with  Saladin, 
Vy  which  the  Christians  were  to  be  securely  protected  in  Palestine ;  but 
though  Acre  was  in  their  possession,  and  served  as  a  bulwark  for  them 
until  the  entire  termination  of  the  crusades,  the  design  of  this  expedition 
was  frustrated  bv  leaving  the  sulta'i  master  of  Jerusalem.  Saladin  died 
in  1193. 


S9  OUTLINE  8KRT0H  OP  ORNEttAL  HISTORY 


CHAPTER  X. 

ruoM    THE    OCATII    0»    8ALADIN   TO   TUB    KNP    OK   THB   0RU8ADM. 

UuRiNo  the  third  crusade  a  revolution  linppeiied  at  Constantinople, 
which  divided  the  easlerii  empire  for  fifty-eight  years.  Alexius  Angelua, 
Buninmed  the  Tyrant,  having  dethroned  Isaac  II.,  usurped  his  seat  in 
1195;  and  Alexius,  son  of  Isaac,  applied  to  the  French  and  Venetians, 
who  passed  that  way  to  the  holy  wars,  to  assist  him  in  the  recovery  of 
his  father's  empire.  They  a(<;ordingly,  in  ia03,  renouncing  their  designi 
against  the  Holy  Land,  laid  siege  to  Constantinople,  took  it  by  storm,  and 
replaced  Isaac  on  the  throne;  the  next  year,  Alexius  Ducas,  surnamed 
Murtzulphus  or  Murzufle,  assassinated  '.he  emperor,  whom  the  crusaders 
had  re-established,  and  seized  the  crown.  On  hearing  this,  the  French 
returned,  attacked  the  city,  deposed  Murtzulphus,  and  elected  Baldwin, 
count  of  Flanders,  in  his  room ;  he  had  four  successors,  the  last  of  whom, 
Baldwin  II.,  was  deposed  in  1262,  by  Michael  Paleologus. 

This  was  the  period  in  which  the  sovereign  pontiffs  carried  their  at 
tempts  against  crowned  heads  to  the  greatest  ex'/ess ;  and  we  shall  con- 
sequently find  that  a  general  history  of  the  European  states  becomes 
more  and  more  connected  with  the  court  of  Rome.  But  before  we  enter 
into  the  condition  of  Christian  Europe,  it  will  be  better  that  we  resume 
the  thread  of  history  by  which  the  crusades  are  continued,  and  then 
return. 

It  appears  that  notwithstanding  the  blood  which  liad  been  fruitlessly 
shed  in  the  "  holy"  cause,  the  zeal  of  the  popes  was  not  lessened.     But 
Innocent  HI.,  who  foresaw  much  greater  advantages  to  the  tiara  in  the 
taking  of  Constantinople  than  in  the  deliverance  of  Jerusalem,  readily 
pardoned  the  leaders  of  the  crusade  for  having  broken  through  their  en- 
gagements, and  was  resolved  to  reap  all  the  advantages  he  could  from  an 
event  so  unexpected.     Up  to  a  recent  period  the  armies  of  the  cross  had 
no  other  view  but  to  attack  the  Infidels.    That  confederacy  was  now 
about  to  be  directed  against  their  fellow-christians.     In  the  south  oi 
France  and  elsewhere,  the  ostentatious  pomp  and  ambition  of  the  clergy 
had  given  great  offence  to  many  of  the  laity,  who  publicly  proclaimed 
that  in  the  members  of  the  sacred  profession  they  could  not  discover  the 
ministers  of  a  religion  founded  on  humility  and  peace,  and  had  formed  a 
resolution  not  to  consider  them  as  tlieir  pastors.     Under  the  name  ol 
Patarins,  Cathares,  and  Vaudois,  they  had  spread  themselves  in  the 
southern  provinces,  and  particularly  in  Languedoc,  contiguous  to  Alby, 
which  they  seemed  to  have  made  their  head-quarters.     Innocent,  who 
was  too  sagacious  not  to  see  the  future  ill  consequences  to  the  papal 
power  if  the  daring  principles  of  these  sectaries  were  permitted  to  ex 
tend,  resolved  on  their  extermination.     By  the  assistance  of  the  clergy, 
who  were  equally  interested  in  their  destruction,  he  preached  up  a  cru- 
sade, and  formed  a  powerful  army,  the  command  of  which  he  entrusted 
to  Simon  de  Montfort.    At  the  same  time  he  erected  a  bloody  tribunal, 
by  which  iinhappy  victims  were  dragged  to  the  stake,  on  the  testimony  ol 
the  vilest  informer.     It  was  in  every  respect  as  iniquitous  as  the  Inqui- 
sition, of  wh'.ch  it  was  in  fact  the  origin.    Two  religious  orders,  lately 
established  under  the  auspices  of  Innocent,  and  entirely  devoted  to  his 
interest,  were  commissioned  to  preside  at  these  executions.    Thousands 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Alby  (whom  we  know  by  the  name  of  Albigenses) 
persecuted  by  the  soldiers  of  the  cross  and  the  members  of  the  Inquisi 
tion,  perished  by  the  swords  of  the  former,  or  expired  in  the  flames  kin 
died  by  the  latter. 
After  this  inhuman  persecution,  carried  on  under  the  banners  of  the 


OUTLINK  HKKTCH  OF  UKNKIIAL  IllHTORY. 


t>3 


the 


Uiod  ur  mercy,  Iiinuceiit  resniiird  liis  prujucl  uf  cuiuiucriiig  tho  Holy 
LaiKl ;  but  he  could  nut  |)»THu:uie  tlu;  i^inpcror  to  join  iit  thp  dcitign,  be- 
.-aUMC  liJH  tlirono  wiiH  too  inucli  disturhud ;  nor  tliu  kings  ur  Prancn  and 
Kngliind,  as  they  were  loo  dtcply  cngnircd  in  their  mutual  quarrels.  An- 
ilrew,  kiin}  of  ifungnry,  and  Jolm  de  Driennc,  titular  sovereign  of  Jeru- 
(talcni,  commanded  this  eruHade,  and  Cardinal  Julien,  legate  of  the  pope, 
accompanied  them.  Ah  the  (Miristian  leaders  perceived  that  Egypt  was 
the  suj)|)ort  of  the  Turks  of  Palestine,  they  ft)rmed  a  new  plan  of  attack 
and  directed  their  Arst  opitratiuns  against  tiiat  kingdom.  In  this  the) 
were  successful.  The  enemy,  after  having  sustained  several  severe  do- 
feats,  aliandoned  tli*'  Hat  country  to  the  Christians,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
mountains.  Tlie  generals,  sensible  of  the  great  danger  of  marching  in  a 
country  to  which  they  were  strangers,  tiioughl  it  necessary  to  secure  the 
heights,  and  reconnoitre  the  places  through  which  they  were  to  puss,  be- 
fore they  proceeded  any  farther.  The  cardinal,  consulting  onlv  the  dic- 
tates of  impetuous  ardour,  treated  their  prudence  aa  timidity,  and  declared 
for  pursuing  the  barbarians  immediately.  Finding  the  two  kings  opp^jsed 
his  opinion,  he  assumed  tiie  style  of  a  superior,  showed  them  the  pope's 
order,  and,  being  supported  by  the  knights  of  St.  John  and  the  Templars 
obliged  them  to  pay  a  blind  obedience  to  his  will.  The  army,  thus  gov- 
erned by  this  ecclesiastic,  daily  committed  new  blunders,  and  at  length 
was  hepimed  in  het>veen  two  branches  of  the  Nile.  The  Saracens  then 
opened  their  sluices,  and  were  preparing  to  drown  the  Christians,  who 
thought  themselves  happy  to  preserve  their  lives,  by  supplicating  the 
mercy  of  the  enemy,  and  being  allowed  to  ret.irn  to  Europe,  though  cov- 
ered with  disgrace. 

The  crusades  seemed  now  to  be  at  an  end ;  for  the  dire  misfortuneE 
which  attended  these  distant  expeditions  had  quite  extinguished  the  zeal 
of  Christian  warriors,  and  tlie  ferment  which  pervaded  all  Europe  would 
not  allow  sovereigns,  however  martial  or  ambitious,  to  leave  their  re- 
spc(  tive  countries. .  But  tticre  was  yet  another  struggle  to  be  made  for 
the  possession  of  the  Holy  Land,  the  relation  of  which,  although  it  car- 
ries us  too  far  forward  in  our  attempt  at  chronological  order  in  this  outline  of 
general  history,  must  be  given  here.     Louis  IX.,  of  France,  better  known 
by  the  name  of  St.  Louis,  having  recovered  from  a  dangerous  illness 
made  a  vow  to  take  the  cross,  and,  with  all  the  zeal  of  one  who  was  de- 
sirous to  signalise  himself  in  the  places  that  had  been  sprinkled  with  the 
blood  of  his  Redeemer,  he  invited  his  people  to  follow  his  example,  and 
effect  the  deliverance  of  Palestine  from  the  power  of  the  infidels.    His  con- 
sort, Margaret  of  Provence,  marched  at  liis  side,  in  order  to  share  his 
dangers ;  his  brothers  and  the  principal  nobility  of  the  kingdom,  accom- 
panied by  him.     Nor  was  the  French  monarch  left  to  contend  with  the 
enemy  single-handed.     Prince  Edward,  the  valiant  son  of  the  king  of 
England,  followed  with  a  large  train  of  English  noblemen.     Having  ar- 
rived on  the  coast  of  Egypt,  the  army  made  good  their  landing,  and 
marched  for  Damietta,  a.  d.  1246.     Margaret  led  the  troops  in  person,  and 
the  city  was  carried  by  storm.    The  intrepid  conduct  of  the  leaders,  and 
the  success  which  had  hitherto  crowned  their  arms,  seemed  to  show  that 
the  decisive  moment  was  now  at  hand  when  the  subjection  of  Egypt  was 
to  secure  the  conquest  of  Judea.     But  a  sudden  and  dreadful  pestilence 
which  raged  in  the  Christian  camp,  a  dearth  of  provisions,  and  the  im- 
prudent ardour  of  the  count  of  Artois,  who  was  surrounded  b)-  the  enemy, 
and  perished  with  the  flower  of  the  nobility,  gave  a  most  unhappy  turn  to 
its  prosperous  commencement.     Louis  was  attacked  near  Massoura,  and, 
notwithstanding  his  heroic  behaviour,  his  army  sustained  a  signal  dis- 
3omfiture,  and  he  himself  was  made  prisoner;  a.  d.  1250.    Such  was  the 
fate  of  the  last  crusade  for  the  recovery  of  Palestine. 


54 


OUTLINE  HKKTCM  OF  OKNKHAL  HISTORY 


CMAPTKR  XI. 

FROM    THE   TIME   OF  (IKNIIIII8   KHAN,   TO  THAT   Or  TAMEBLAKB. 

While  the  criisaflers  were  fijfhtinjf  in  the  wPHtorn  psirt  of  Asia,  the  na- 
tionii  of  tho  moro  onslorly  part  were  throaUuiefl  with  rxtprminatioii  by 
Genghis  Khan,  tlie  groatunt  as  wi-U  as  thi;  most  sanjriiinary  conqunrDr  thai 
ever  existed.     Tho  rapidity  of  hi^eonfinosts  seemnd  to  cinidati!  those  of 
Alexander;  but  the  cruellies  he  ronunitted  were  altogrthfr  unparalleled 
Tho  Mogula,'Sjr  Monools,  over  wiiom  this  tyrant  nssiiined  the  sovereifjii 
ty,  wore  a  people  of  Kastern  Tartary,  divided,  as  at  the  present  day,  into 
various  petty  governments,  hut  acknowlcdjring  a  subje(!tion  to  one  sovrr- 
cign,  whom  they  called  Vang-Khan,  or  the  (treat  Khan.     Temujin,  after- 
wards Genghis  Khan.oneof  tlie  minor  princes,  had  been  unjustly  deprived 
of  his  inheritance  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  and  could  not  recover  it  till  twenty- 
seven  years  after,  a.  d.  1201,  when  he  totally  reduced  the  rebels,  and  caused 
seventy  of  their  chiefs  to  be  thrown  into  as  many  cauldrons  of  boiling  wa- 
ter.    Jn  1202  he  defented  and  killed  Vang-Khan  himself  (known  to  Ku- 
ropeans  by  the  name  of  Prester  John  of  Asia) ;  and  possessing  himself  of 
his  vast  dominions,  became  thenceforward  irresistible.     In  1206  he  was 
declared  king  of  the  Moguls  and  Tartars,  and  took  upon  him  the  title  ol 
Genghis  Khan,  or  the  great  Khan  of  Khans.     This  was  followed  by  tho  re- 
duction of  the  kingdoms  of  Haya  in  China,  Tangut,  Kitay,  'I'urkestan,  Ka- 
razim,  or  tho  kingdom  of  Gazna,  Great  Uukliaria,  Persia,  and  part  of  In- 
dia; all  of  which  vast  regions  he  conquered  in  twenty-six  years.     It  is 
computed  that  upwards  of  fourteen  millions  of  human  beings  were  butcher- 
ed by  him  during  the  last  twenty-two  years  of  his  reign,  and  that  his  con- 
quests extended  eighteen  hundred  leagues  from  east  to  west,  and  a  thous- 
and from  south  to  north.     He  died  in  1827.     One. of  his  sons  subdued  In- 
dia ;  another,  after  crossing  the  Wolga,  devastated  Russia,  Hungary,  Poland , 
and  Bohemia;  while  a  third  advanced  into  Syria,  and  conquered  all  the 
martime  provinces  of  the  Turkish  empire.     The  caliphate  of  Bagdad,  and 
the  power  of  the  Turks  in  tliat  quarter,  were  finally  destroyed  by  this  sud- 
den revolution.     In  the  meantime  tho  Mumelnkes,  a  body  of  militia  form- 
ed by  the  sultan  of  Cairo,  expelled  the  Turkish  conquerors,  and  seized  the 
throne  of  Egypt. 

The  vast  empire  of  Genghis  Khan,  however,  had  the  fate  of  all  others  . 
being  too  extensive  to  be  governed  by  any  one  of  ordinary  capacity,  it 
split  into  a  multitude  of  small  kingdoms  as  before  ;  but  they  all  owned  al- 
legiance to  the  house  of  Genghis  Khan  till  the  time  of  Timur  Bek,  or  Ta- 
merlane. The  Turks  at  this  time,  urged  forward  by  the  inundation  of  Tar- 
tars who  poured  in  from  the  East,  were  forced  upon  the  remains  of  the 
Greek  empire ;  and  at  the  time  of  Tamerlane  they  had  almost  confined 
this  once  mighty  empire  within  the  walls  of  Constantinople. 

We  must  now  again  cast  our  eyes  upon  the  transiactions  of  Europe.  After 
the  death  of  Frederic  II.  the  empire  of  Germany  fell  a  prey  to  anarchy.  An 
interregnum  took  place  on  the  death  of  the  emperor  Richard,  in  1271,  which 
continued  two  years,  and  completed  the  destruction  of  the  imperial  do- 
main. The  tributary  nations,  Denmark,  Poland  and  Hungary,  absolutely 
shook  oflTthe  yoke  ;  each  of  them  taking  possession  of  what  lay  most  con- 
venient for  them ;  freeing  themselves  from  quit-rents  and  every  obligation' 
by  which  they  thought  themselves  under  restraint ;  and  leaving  nothing  to 
the  emperors  but  their  paternal  inheritance.  Formerly  taxes  were  paid  to 
the  emperor  by  the  imperial  cities  ;  from  which  they  endeavoured  to  free 
themselves,  by  taking  advantage  of  the  anarchy  that  prevailed  at  this  time, 
and  assumed  the  title  of /rec ci<iM,  to  distinguish  them  from  a  great  number 
of  imperial  cities  which  they  admitted  into  their  body  ;  and  thus  the  Han 


M 


OUTLINK  HKKTCH  OP  ORNRUAL  HlrtTOIlY 


65 


MKtic  leatfue  wan  foriiifid.  At  length  thry  gniw  tired  of  anarchy ;  and 
Oregory  9..  having  ihrcntcncd  to  niiino  iin  emprror  if  thi-y  (hd  not,  thny 
elected  llodolph,  count  ()f  Hapshiirg,  the  dpscendiint  of  ni\  old  coptu  of  Al- 
sace ;  from  which  election,  humblo  iw  it  w:i9,  the  Inntre  of  the  Iloime  of 
Austria  i-t  derived.  The  new  emperor  w»ih  seated  on  the  liirone  with  nolh- 
ini'  l)Ut  an  empty  title  to  support  the  dignity ;  ho  h:id  neither  troops  not 
mmiey  ;  he  vvaM  in  suhjection  to  the  clcrny  ;  surrounded  hy  vassals  more 
powerful  than  himself,  and  in  the  midst  of  an  enthusiastic  people  who  were 
ripe  for  sedition  and  anarchy.  His  fust  earo  therefore  was  to  conciliate 
the  adVctions  of  the  people,  and  by  that  means  he  happily  appeased  the 
spirit  of  faction.  He  also  studied  how  to  increase  his  dommions,  so  as  to 
make  then>  rcspcctahle  ;  with  this  view,  he  artfidly  blended  the  idea  of 
glory  anrl  the  right  of  the  empire  with  his  own  interest;  aiul  having:  united 
the  forces  of  the  (Jermanic  body  against  Oltocar,  king  of  Bohenua,  that 
prince  was  compelled  to  yield  Austria  to  the  con(|ueror,  who  also  obtained 
Sual)ia ;  so  that  ho  was  enabled  to  leave  his  son  Albert  in  pBssession  of  a 
rich  and  powerful  state. 

From  the  time  of  liodolph  of  Ilapsburg  tlie  amazing  power  of  the  popes 
began  to  decline.  The  form  of  government  remained  the  same  in  Oer- 
many;  but  it  was  materially  altered  in  Kngland  and  Franco,  wh(!re  the 
middling  classes  of  society  had  obtained  a  voice  in  the  assemblies  of  each 
nation.  The  manners  of  the  lower  classes  of  society  were  still  rude  and 
barbarous  in  the  extreme ;  but  those  of  the  nobility  exhibited  a  singular  mix- 
ture of  devotion,  gallantry,  and  valour,  in  whi(!h  originated  the  several  or- 
ders of  knighll\ood,  such  as  the  order  of  the  garter  in  Kngland,  and  the 
golden  fleece  in  Spain,  of  St.  Michael  in  France,  of  Christ  in  Portugal,  &c. 
To  this  strange  combination  of  religion  with  war  and  with  love,  may  be 
traced  the  origin  of  judicial  combats,  jousts  and  tournaments,  and  that 
spirit  of  chivalry  which  pervaded  all  the  upper  classes  of  society.  Paint- 
ing, sculpture,  and  architecture,  arose  in  Italy  through  the  exertions  of  the 
fugitive  Greeks.  The  arts  of  printing  and  engraving  were  also  enlightening 
the  world  ;  and  the  science  of  navigation,  and  consequently  geography, 
were  much  advanced  by  the  discovery  of  the  mariner's  compass. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FKOM  THK    riME  OF    TAMERLANE,  TO  THE    SIXTEENTH    CENTURY. 

We  now  rtm  i!  to  the  East.  In  1.102  Tamerlane  invaded  Btikhana, 
which  he  re,luce<ii  in  five  years.  Proceeding  from  conquest  to  conquest, 
he  successively  subdued  Persia,  Armenia,  Georgia,  Karazim,  and  a  great 
part  of  T.irttry.  He  then  turned  his  course  westward,  and  having  subju- 
gated all  the  countries  to  the  Euphrates,  next  poured  his  lion  his  over  the 
fertile  ])lains  of  India,  plundering  Delhi,  and  pursuing  the  flying  Indians  to 
the  banks  of  the  Ganges.  The  cities  of  Asia  Minor  then  felt  his  power; 
and  among  his  cruelties  may  be  numbered  a  general  massacre  of  the  in- 
habitants of  Bagdad.  In  1393  lie  invaded  and  reduced  Syria.  In  1402  he 
brought  an  army  of  700,000  men  against  the  Trks,  under  the  sultan  Ba- 
jazet,  who  with  a  force  of  120,000  engaged  him  ;  but  it  ended  in  the  total 
rout  of  the  Turkish  host,  and  the  captivity  of  its  leader.  At  length,  while 
on  his  way  to  China,  in  1405,  the  conquest  ot  which  empire  he  medi- 
tated, his  progress  was  arrested  by  a  sudden  death,  and  most  of  the  nations 
he  had  vanquished  were  able  ere  long  to  regain  their  independence,  or  had 
to  submit  to  new  masters. 

The  civil  contentions  that  arose  among  the  sons  of  Bajazet  revived  the 
hopes  of  the  Greek  emperor  Manuel  Paleologus;  but  they  were  speedily 
annihilated.    Amurath  II.  after  overcoming  his  competitors,  took  The«» 


56 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OP  GENERAL  HISTORY 


salonica,  and  threatened  Constantinople,  wliicOi  owed  its  salvation  to  the 
Hungarans  under  John  Hunniiides.  Amuraih  having  obtained  a  truce,  im- 
mediatelv  resigned  the  crown  to  his  son  Mohammed  II.,  but  an  unexpect 
ed  attack' from  Uladi-slaus,  king  of  Hungary,  induced  him  again  to  take  the 
field.  After  the  battle  of  Varna,  in  which  the  Chrstians  were  completely 
defeated,  he  finally  abandoned  the  throne,  a.d.  1444.  In  Mohammed  II.  were 
combined  the  scholar,  tlie  warrior,  and  the  politician  ;  and  he  proved  the 
most  determined  as  well  as  formidable  enemy  of  Christendom.  He,  how- 
ever, met  with  some  signal  reverses,  particularly  when  engaged  against 
thu  celebrated  Scanderbeg,  prince  of  Albania.  After  making  immense  pre- 
parations, Mohammed,  in  the  full  confidence  of  success,  undertook  the  siege 
of  Constantinople.  The  defence  was  obstinate ;  but  having  obtained  pos- 
session of  the  harbour,  by  having,  with  the  most  indefatigable  perseverence, 
drawn  his  fleet  overland  the  distance  of  two  leagues,  the  city  surrendered ; 
and  thus  an  end  was  put  to  the  eastern  empire. 

Russia  ha(f  long  languished  under  the  heavy  -yoke  of  the  Tartars,  when 
Demetrius  Iwanowitz  made  a  desperate  effort  to  effect  the  deliverance  of 
his  country;  and  having  defeated  its  oppressors,  he  assumed  the  title  of 
grand  duke  of  Russia.  But  the  ferocious  Tartars  returned  with  an  immense 
force,  his  troops  were  routed,  and  their  gallant  leader  fell  in  the  conflict. 
His  death  was,  however,  shortly  after  revenged  by  his  son,  Basilius  De- 
metriwjtz,  who  expelled  the  ferocious  enemy,  and  conquered  Bulgaria, 
A.  D.  1450.  Much  confusion  arose  after  his  death ;  but  Russia  was  saved 
from  anarchy  by  John  Basilowitz,  whose  sound  policy,  firmness,  and  sin- 
gular boldness  rendered  him  at  once  the  conqueror  and  the  deliverer  of  his 
country.  Freed  from  every  yoke,  and  considered  as  one  of  the  most  pow- 
erful princes  in  those  regions,  he  disdained  the  title  of  duke,  and  assumed 
that  of  czar,  which  has  since  remained  with  his  successors. 


i 


CHAPTER  XHI. 

THE  REFORMATIOK,  AND  PROORESS  OP  EVENTS  DURING  THE  SIXTEENTH  CENTDRT. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  16th  century  the  popes  enjoyed  the  utmost  tran- 
quillity; the  commotions  excited  by  the  Albigenses,  Hussites  ice,  were  sup 
pressed ;  and,  according  to  all  appearance,  they  had  no  reason  to  fear  an 
opposition  to  their  authority.    Yet,  in  a  snort  time  after,  a  totally  unfore- 
seen event  produced  a  singular  change  in  the  religious  and  political  state 
of  Europe ;  this  was  the  opposition  of  Luther  to  thedoctrtiies  of  the  church 
of  Rome,  or  the  beginning  of  what  is  commonly  called   the  Reformation. 
The  publicity  with  which  the  sale  of  indulgences  was  carried  on  under  the 
sanction  of  Leo  X.,  excited  the  indignation  of  Martin  Luther,  an  Augus- 
tine monk  and  professor  of  theology  at  Wittemberg,  in  Saxony.     Embold- 
ened by  the  attention  which  h^  gained,  not  only  from  the  people  but  from 
some  of  their  rulers,  he  pushed  his   inquiries  and  attacks  from  one  doc- 
trine to  another,  till  he  at  length  shook  the  firmest  foundations  on  which 
the  wealth  and  power  of  the  church  were  established.     Leo,  therefore, 
finding  there  was  no  hopes  of  reclaiming  so  Incorrigible  a  heretic,  issued 
a  sentence  of  excommunication,  a.  d.  1520;  but  he  was  screened  from  its 
effects  by  the  friendship  of  the  elector  of  Saxony.     On  the  election  of 
Charles  V.  to  the  imperial  throne  of  Germany,  his  first  act  was  the  assem- 
bling a  diet  at  Worms,  to  check  the  progress  of  Lutheranism.     In  the  pro- 
gress of  his  arduous  work,  Luther  had  the  assistance  of  several  learned 
men,  among  whom  were  Zuinglius,  Melancthon,  Carlosladius,  &c. ;  and 
there  was  the  greatest  probability  that  the  papal  hierarchy  would  have 
been  overturned,  at  least  in  the  north  of  Europe,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
ODposition  of  the  emperor  Charles  V..  who  was  also  king  of  Spain.    On 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GSMBRAL  HISTORY. . 


51 


<he  death  ol  Frederic,  his  brother  John  succeeded  to  the  electorate  oi 
Saxony,  by  whose  order  Luther  and  Melancthon  drew  up  a  body  of  laws 
relating  to  the  form  of  ecclesiastical  government,  the  mode  of  public  wor- 
ship, &Cm  which  was  proclaimed  by  heralds  throughout  the  Saxon  domin 
ions;  this  example  was  immediately  followed  by  all  the  princes  aild  states 
of  Germany  who  had  renounced  the  papal  supremacy.  In  a  diet  held  at 
Spires,  in  1529,  the  edict  of  Worms  was  confirmed ;  upon  which  a  solemn 
protest  was  enterjd  against  this  decree  by  the  elector  of  Saxony  and  other 
reformers ;  from  which  circumstance  they  obtained  the  name  of  Pro- 
rKSTANTs, — an  appelation  subsequently  applied  to  all  who  dissented 
from  the  doctrines  of  the  Romish  church.  In  the  same  year  the  elector 
of  Saxony  ordered  Luther  and  other  eminent  divines  to  commit  the  chief 
article  of  their  religion  to  writing,  which  they  did  ;  and,  farther  to  eluci- 
date them,  Melancthon  drew  up  the  celebrated  "  Confession  of  Augsburg," 
which,  being  subscribed  by  the  princes  who  protested,  was  delivered  to  the 
emperor  in  the  diet  assembled  in  that  city,  in  1530.  From  this  time  to  the 
death  of  Luther,  in  1546,  various  negotiations  were  employed  and  schemes 
proposed,  under  pretence  of  settling  religious  disputes. 

While  these  transactions  occupied  the  public  attention  in  Germany,  the 
principles  of  the  reformers  were  making  a  rapid  progress  in  most  other 
countries  of  Europe :  in  some  they  were  encouraged  by  the  governing 
powers,  while  in  others  they  were  discountenanced,  and  their  advocates 
subjected  to  cruel  persecutions. 

The  Turks  were  now  menacing  Hungary,  and  Charles  V.  thought  it 
prudent  to  forget  his  differences  with  the  protestant  princes  and  their  sub- 
jects,  for  the  sake  of  engaging  them  to  assist  him  against  the  general  en- 
emy ;  but  on  the  approach  of  the  emperor  at  the  head  of  100,000  men,  al- 
though the  army  of  Solyman  was  at  least  double  that  number,  the  latter 
retired ;  and  Charles  returned  to  Spain,  and  enga'ged  in  an  expedition  to 
Tunis,  against  the  famous  corsair  Barbarossa,  whom  he  deposed  from  his 
assumed  sovereignty. 

A  long  and  obstinate  war  had  been  carried  on  between  the  rival  sove- 
reigns of  Germany  and  France ;  and  the  former,  at  the  head  of  50,000  men, 
invaded  the  southern  provinces,  while  two  other  Jirmies  were  ordered  to 
enter  Picardy  and  Champaigne.  Francis  laid  waste  the  country,  and  for- 
tified his  towns ;  so  that  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  months,  disease  and  fa- 
mine so  reduced  the  army  of  the  emperor,  that  he  was  glad  to  retreat,  and 
a  truce  was  effected  at  Nice,  under  the  mediation  of  the  pope,  a.d.  1538. 
Charles  had  also  to  quell  a  serious  insurrection  in  Ghent,  and  endeavoured 
in  vain  to  arrange  the  religious  affairs  of  Germany  at  the  diet  of  Ratisbon. 
The  progress  of  the  Turks,  who  had  become  masters  of  nearly  the  whole 
of  Hungar}',  and  his  desire  to  embark  in  an  expedition  against  Algiers,  in- 
duced him  to  make  concessions  to  the  protestants,  froln  whom  he  expect- 
ed assistance.  The  conquest  of  Algiers  was  a  favourite  object  of  Charles  \ 
and  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  Doria,  the  famous  Genoese  admiral, 
he  set  sail  in  the  most  unfavourable  season  of  the  year,  and  landed  in  Af- 
rica ;  the  result  of  which  was,  that  the  greatest  part  of  the  armament  was 
destroyed  by  tempests :  a.d.  1541. 

The  desire  of  Charles  V.  to  humble  the  protestant  princes,  and  to  ex- 
tend his  own  power,  continued  to  manifest  itself  in  every  act.  At  length, 
being  wholly  free  from  domestic  wars,  he  entered  France  ;  but  the  gallant 
delence  of  the  duke  of  Guise  compelled  him  to  raise  the  seige  of  Metz, 
with  the  loss  of  30,000  men.  In  the  following  year  he  had  some  success 
in  the  Low  Countries  ;  but  the  Austrians  were  unfortunate  in  Hungary. 
In  Germany  the  religious  peace  was  finally  concluded,  by  what  is  called 
the  "recess  of  Augsburg."  It  was  during  the  progress  of  this  treaty  that 
Charles  V.,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  all  Europe,  resigned  the  imperial 
and  Spanish  crowns,  and  retired  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  life  at  the 


58 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENEEAL  HISTOEY. 


monastery  of  St.  Just,  in  Spain,  where  he  died,  three  years  after,  aged 
58.  A.  D.  1566. 

Charles  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Philip,  and  no  monarch  ever  ascended 
a  throne  under  greater  advantages.  The  Spanish  arms  were  everywhere 
successful,  and  the  rival  nations  appearing  unanimous  in  their  desire  for 
repose  after  a  series  of  devastating  wars,  peace  was  re-established  be- 
tween France  and  Spain,  which  included  in  it,  as  allies  on  the  one  side  or 
the  other,  nearly  all  the  other  states  of  Europe. 

At  this  time  Elizabeth  filled  the  throne  of  England,  and  Protestantism 
had  there  not  merely  gained  the  ascendency,  but  it  was  established  as  the 
religion  of  the  state.    In  France  also  the  reformed  religion  was  making 
considerable  progress ;  but  its  members,  who  in  that  country  were  called 
Huguenots,  met  with  the  fiercest  opposition,  from  the  courts  of  France  and 
Spain,  who  joined  in  a  "holy  league,"  and  a  rancorous  civil  war  raged  for 
several  years  in  many  of  the  French  provinces.     The  duke  of  Anjou  com- 
manded the  Catholics ;  the  Protestants  were  led  by  Coligni  and  the  prince 
of  Conde.    At  length  a  hollow  truce  was  made  the  prelude  to  one  of  the 
most  atrocious  acts  that  stain  the  page  of  history — the  savage  and  indis- 
criminate massacre  of  the  Huguenots  throughout  France,  on  the  eve  of 
St.  Bartholomew  (Aug.  24,  1572).     The  account  of  this  diabolical  deed, 
by  which  60,000  persons  met  with  a  treacherous  death,  was  received  in 
Rome  and  Spain  with  ecslacy ;  and  public  thanksgivings  were  offered  up 
in  their  clunclies  for  an  event,  which,  it  was  erroneously  supposed,  would 
go  far  towards  tiie  extirpation  of  a  most  extensive  and  formidable  heresy. 
About  this  period  a  serious  insurrection  of  the  Moors  in  Spain  broke  out 
and  a  most  sanguinary  war  ensued,  which  raged  with  great  violence  in  tlis 
southern  provinces ;  but  the  insurgents  were  at  length  quelled,  and  public 
tranquillity  restored.     It  was  not  long,  however,  before  the  revolt  of  the 
Dutch  took  place,  which  ended  in  their  final  emancipation  from  the  Span- 
ish yoke,  in  1572. 

But  of  all  the  preparations  that  were  made  for  war  and  conquest,  none 
equalled  that  of  Ph'lip's  "  invincible  armada,"  which  he  fondly  hoped  would 
conquer  England,  and  thus  destroy  the  great  stay  of  Protestantism.  But 
this  inmiense  armament,  consisting  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  ships,  and 
nearly  30,000  men,  after  being  partly  dispersed,  and  losing  several  vessels 
during  a  violent  storm,  was  most  signally  defeated  by  the  English;  and 
Philip  had  the  n\ortification  to  hear  that  his  naval  force  was  nearly  annihi- 
lated. The  particulars  of  this  event,  so  glorious  to  England  and  so  dis- 
astrous to  Spain,  will  be  found  in  another  part  of  this  work;  and  we  shall 
here  merely  observe,  that  it  greatly  tended  to  advance  the  Protestant  cause 
throughout  Europe,  and  effectually  destroyed  the  decisive  influence  that 
Spain  had  acquired  over  her  neighbours  :  indeed,  from  the  fatal  day  which 
saw  the  proud  arnfhda  shipwrecked,  (1588),  the  energies  of  that  once  pow- 
erful country  have  been  gradually  declining,  and  its  inhabitants  seem  to 
have  sunk  into  a  state  of  letiiargic  indolence. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  that,  in  all  the  states  of  Europe,  towards  the  lat- 
ter end  of  this  century,  a  decided  tendency  towards  the  concentration  ol 
power  in  the  hands  of  few  individuals  was  fully  perceptible.  The  repub- 
lics became  more  aristocratical,  the  monarchies  more  unlimited,  and  the 
despotic  governments  less  cautious.  The  system  pursued  by  the  domi- 
neering court  of  Philip  served  more  or  less  as  an  example  to  his  contem- 
porary sovereigns  ;  while  the  recent  and  rapid  increase  in  the  quantity  of 
the  precious  metals,  and  the  progress  of  the  industrious  arts,  by'producing 
a  multitude  (if  new  desires,  rendered  the  court  more  avaricious  and  tho 
nobles  more  dependent. 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


M 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

rROH  THE  COMMBNOEMENT  OF  TUG  SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY,  TO    THE    PEACE    Of 

WESTPHALIA. 

The  seventeenth  century,  at  its  commencement,  found  Spain  drained 
ot  its  treasure,  and  destitute  of  eminent  men.  The  colonization  of  Amer- 
ica, the  war  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  the  incessant  enterprizesof  Phihp 
II.  had  prodnced  a  pernicious  effect  on  the  population ;  and  his  successor, 
Philip  HI.,  banished  two  hundred  thousand  Moors,  who  constituted  the 
most  industrious  portion  of  the  remaining  inhabitants. 

Portugal  was  now  under  the  power  of  Spain ;  and  saw,  as  the  conse- 
quence of  her  subjection,  the  greater  part  of  the  discoveries  and  conquests 
of  her  better  days  fall  into  the  hands  of  strangers.  The  Dutch,  who  were 
forbidden,  as  rebels  against  the  authority  of  Philip,  to  purchase  in  I<isbon 
the  commodities,  of  the  East  Indies,  went  to  the  latter  country  in  seach  of 
them,  where  they  found  an  administration  which  had  been  rendered  feeble 
by  the  influence  of  the  climate,  by  luxurious  and  effeminate  habits,  and 
by  spiritual  and  temporal  tyranny,  and  while  Philip  III.,  after  a  seige  of 
three  years,  which  cost  him  from  eighty  to  a  hundred  thousand  men,  got 
possession  of  Osteiid,  the  Dutch  took  the  isles  of  Molucca  from  his  Por- 
tuguese subjects.  In  fact,  of  all  the  foreign  possessions  of  the  Portuguese, 
Goa,  in  the  East  Indies,  and  Brazil,  in  America,  alone  remained,  ntil  had 
our  countryman.  Sir  Walter  Raleioh,  been  adequately  supported,  the  Span- 
ish power  in  America  would  probably  have  been  overthrown.  Italy  en- 
ii"-"d  the  yoke  with  impatience,  and  even  Rome  wished  to  see  them  hum- 
'•' ;  Venice  both  feared  and  hated  them;  and  to  the  dukes  of  Mantau 
hi.i]  i-'avoy,  the  overbearing  power,  and  the  lofty  tone  of  the  cabinet  ol 
i.ii.arid  were  insupportable. 

The  good  and  great  Henry  IV.,  king  of  France,  whose  excellent  quali- 
ties were  not  thoroughly  appreciated  in  his  own  age,  was  assassinated,  and 
his  kingdom  again  became  the  prey  of  factions :  a.  d.  1610.  His  widow, 
Ml  He  de  Medicis,  sacrificed  the  welfare  of  the  state  to  her  personal  incli- 
n;  ,)ns  ;  and  her  son,  Louis  XIII.,  who  was  a  child  at  the  time  of  hia 
father's  death,  never  became  a  man  of  independent  character.  It  has  been 
well  remarked,  that  "  the  power  of  a  state  depends  not  so  much  on  the  nu 
merical  amount  of  its  forces,  as  on  the  intelligence  which  animates  their 
movements;"  and  certain  it  is,  that  France,  which  in  thd  latter  part  of  the 
reign  of  Henry  IV.  seemed  likely  to  produce  an  universal  revolution  in 
the  condition  of  Europe,  had  lost  much  of  its  political  importance. 

Free  nations  are  never  more  powerful  than  when  they  are  obliged  to 
depend  exclusively  upon  their  own  resources  for  defence,  and  when  the 
magnitude  of  the  dangers  which  menace  them  compels  the  developement 
of  their  moral  energy.  This  was  instanced  in  the  case  of  Holland.  In 
the  midst  of  its  contests  for  freedom,  Ine  republic  ereiited  a  mighty  em- 
pire in  the  East ;  and  its  navy  rode  triuinpliant  on  the  seas.  Its  recogni- 
tion as  an  independent  state  was  soon  after  the  necessary  consequence. 

The  death  of  Henry  IV.,  of  France,  was  not  merely  a  disastrous  event 
as  regarded  the  prosperity  of  that  kingdom,  but  one  whicli  had  a  power- 
ful influence  on  the  hopes  or  fears  of  the  other  principal  monarchies  ol 
Europe,  and  by  none  more  than  by  tlie  house  of  Austria.  Rodolph  II. 
was  succeeded  in  the  empire  by  his  brother,  the  archduke  Mathias,  a  man 
of  great  activity  and  an  insatiable  thirst  for  dominion.  Though  originally 
favourable  to  the  Protestants,  he  now  evinced  a  disposition  to  oppose 
them,  and  being  supported  by  Ferdinand,  duke  of  Slyria,  and  the  court  of 
Spain,  the  Protestants  took  the  alarm,  and  had  recourse  to  arms,  which 
may  be  considered  as  tlic  origin  of  the  celebrated  "  thirty  years'  war  " 


OUTUNE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY 


Oil  ihe  death  of  Mathias,  Ferdinand,  who  had  succeeded  him  as  king 
of  Bohemia  and  Hungary,  was  raised  to  the  imperial  throne.  TWc  Bo- 
hemian Protestants,  dreadmg  his  bigotry,  chose  Frederic  V.,  the  eiectoi 
palatine^  for  their  sovereign.  He  was  supported  by  all  the  Protestant 
princes  of  the  Germanic  body,  while  Ferdinand  was  aided  by  the  king  ol 
Spain  and  the  Catholic  princes  of  the  empire.  Their  forces  proved  over- 
whelming; Frederic,  defeated  and  helpless,  abandoned  the  contest  in 
despair,  and  forfeited  both  the  crown  and  his  electorate.  The  emperor 
Ferdinand,  strengthened  by  victory,  and  by  the  acquisition  of  treasure, 
now  turned  tl  \rma  of  his  experienced  generals,  Wallensteki,  Tilly,  and 
Spinola,  agai;  ^t  the  Protestants,  who  had  formed  a  league  with  Chris- 
tian IV.,  king  of  Denmark,  at  its  head,  for  the  restoration  of  the  palat- 
inate (a.  o.  1625),  but  the  Imperialists  were  victorious,  and  the  Protest- 
ants were  compelled  to  sue  for  peace,  'i'hey  subsequently  formed  a 
secret  alliance  with  Oustavus  Adolphus,  king  of  Sweden;  a.  d.  1629. 

The  father  of  Gustavus  had  lp'"t  him  a  well-confirmed  authority,  though 
without  treasure ;  the  nobles  »vho  might  have  endangered  his  power  had 
been  humbled  in  the  preceding  revolutions,  and  there  wa's  nothing  to  fear 
from  Russia,  Poland,  or  Denmark.  He  was  zealously  anxious  for  the 
success  of  the  Protestant  cause ;  he  w.^hed  also  to  chock  the  ambitious 
designs  of  the  emperor ;  and  Germany  appeared,  in  fact,  to  be  the  coun- 
try in  which  he  might  seek  for  power  with  the  greatest  prospect  of  suc- 
cess. His  talents,  both  military  and  civil,  were  of  the  highest  order. 
Together  with  the  lofty  character  of  his  genius,  which  manifested  itself 
in  the  greatness  of  his  plans,  he  combined  the  power  of  attention  to 
minute  details  in  the  organization  of  his  army,  and  a  calm  and  penetrating 
insight  into  circumstances  of  the  greatest  intricacy.  His  habits  were  of 
the  most  simple  kind  ;  and  though  the  boldness  of  his  enterprises  aston- 
ished the  world,  he  was  personally -mild,  beneficent,  susceptible  of  the 
warmest  friendship,  eloquent,  popular,  and  full  of  reliance  on  Providence. 
Richelieu,  the  minister  of  France,  desirous  of  curbing  the  power  of  the 
house  of  Austria,  subsidized  Gustavus ;  and  England  furnished  him  with 
6,000  troops,  headed  by  the  marquis  of  Hamilton.  The  magnanimous 
king  of  Sweden,  by  his  sudden  and  unexpected  appearance  in  the  empire, 
by  his  irresistiule  progress,  and  finally  by  the  victory  of  Leipsic,  where 
he  was  opposed  to  the  Imperialist  army  under  Tilly,  revived  the  confi- 
dence of  the  Protestant  princes  in  their  own  power.  He  quickly  made 
himself  master  of  the  whole  country  from  the  Elbe  to  the  Rhine;  but 
having  been  repulsed  with  considerable  loss,  in  a  furious  attack  on  the 
intrenchnients  of  the  Imperialists  at  Nuremberg,  and  hearing  that  their 
general,  Wallenstein,  had  soon  after  removed  his  camp  to  Lutzen,  he  pro- 
ceeded thither  to  give  him  battle.  The  Imperial  army  greatly  outnum- 
bered the  Swedes  and  their  allies,  and  from  daybreak  till  night  the  con- 
flict was  sustiiined  with  unabated  vigour ;  but  though  the  victory  was 
nobly  gai.'ied  by  the  Swedes,  their  gallant  king  had  fallen  in  the  middle 
of  the  fight,  covered  with  renown,  and  sincerely  deplored  by  his  brave 
and  faithful  soldiers ;  a.  d.  1642.  Both  the  king  of  Sweden  and  the  court 
of  Fran(!e  had  been  alarmed  at  the  union  of  the  whole  power  of  Ger- 
many, in  the  hands  of  a  ruler  who  assumed  the  tone  of  a  universal  sov- 
ereign ;  and  the  efficacy  of  a  good  military  system,  directed  by  the  ener- 
getic genius  of  a  single  leader,  was  never  more  eminently  displayed  than 
on  this  occasion. 

The  war  was  still  continued  with  various  success;  but  the  weight  of 
it  fell  on  the  Swedes,  the  German  princes  having,  after  the  fatal  battle 
of  Nordliiigen,  in  103 1,  deserted  them.  In  the  following  year,  however 
the  troops  of  France  simultaneously  ittaeked  the  Austrian  monarchy 
at  every  accessible  point,  in  order  to  prevent  the  forces  of  the  latter  fron 
acting  with  decisive  effect  in  any  quarter.    In  1637  the  emperor  Ferdi 


OUTLINE  8KRTCH  OF  G2NBRAL  HIPTOaV. 


61 


nand  died,  and  was  succeeded  bv  his  son,  Ferdinand  II).,  who  pursued 
the  policy  of  his  father;  but  though  there  was  considerable  disunion 
among  the  confederates,  the  great  erents  of  the  war  were  generally  in 
their  favour.  It  would  be  inconsistent,  however,  with  the  sketchy  out- 
line we  are  penning,  to  enter  into  further  details  of  this  memorable  war, 
and,  perhaps,  limited  ai>  our  space  is,  we  may  have  been  already  too  dif- 
fuse. We  will,  therefore,  pass  at  once  to  the  celebrated  Peace  of  West- 
phalia,  which  was  signed  at  Munster  on  the  24th  Oct.,  1G48.  It  was  con- 
cluded under  the  mediation  of  the  pope  and  the  Venetians,  between  the 
emperor  Ferdinand  III.,  Philip  III.,  kmg  of  Spain,  and  the  princes  of  the 
empire  who  belonged  to  their  party,  on  one  side,  and  Louis  XIV.,  Chris- 
tina, queen  of  Sweden,  the  states-general  of  the  United  Provinces,  and 
those  princes  of  the  empire,  mostly  Protestants,  who  were  in  alliance 
with  the  French  and  Swedes,  on  the  other.  By  this  celebrated  treaty  all 
differences  were  arranged  between  the  belligerents,  except  France  and 
Spain,  who  continued  in  hostilities  for  eleven  years  afterwards;  but  it  re- 
stored tranquillity  to  northern  Europe  and  Germany,  and  became  a  fun- 
damental law  of  the  empire,  while  Holland  and  Switzerland  acquired  a 
simultaneous  recognition  and  guarantee. 


iht  of 

[battle 

irever 

^archy 

fron 

Terdi 


CHAPTER  XV. 

FROM    THE    CIVlIi   WAR    IN    ENGLAND,    TO    THr    PEACE   OF    RTSWICK. 

At  this  period  England  was  convulsed  by  civil  war.  During  the  pros- 
perous age  of  Elizabeth,  the  commons  had  greatly  increased  in  opulence, 
and,  without  regard  to  the  resources  of  her  successors,  she  had  alienated 
many  of  the  crown  estates ;  James  was  prodigal  towards  his  favourites, 
and  Charles  fell  inco  difficulties  in  consequence  of  the  disord^^red  state  of 
his  financial  affairs.  He  was  magnanimous,  amiable,  and  learned,  but  de- 
ficient in  steadfast  exertion,  and  in  the  dignity  and  vigour  necessary  to 
the  situation  in  which  he  stood.  His  ideas  of  the  royal  prerogative 
were  extravagant;  but  he  often  showed  a  timidity  and  irresolution  on  the 
appearance  of  opposition  from  his  Parliament,  which  emboldened  them 
to  carry  their  opposition  to  the  most  unwarrantable  lengths.  In  order  to 
raise  supplies  without  the  authority  of  Parliament,  the  king  exacted  the 
customs  and  levied  an  arbitrary  tax  on  ships ;  many  feudal  privileges  and 
ancient  abuses  were  exercised  with  increased  severity ;  contiibutions  and 
loans,  called  voluntary,  were  exacted  by  force ;  the  forms  of  law  were 
disregarded  by  the  court  of  star-chamber ;  Englishmen  were  subjected  to 
long  imprisonments  and  exorbitant  fines,  and  their  rights  treated  with  con- 
tempt. From  the  discussions  to  which  these  grievances  gave  rise,  arose 
others  relating  to  the  nature  and  origin  of  political  constitutions.  The 
violence  of  parties  daily  increased;  but  as  the  king  conceded,  the  Parlia- 
ment grew  more  arrogant  in  their  demands,  and  the  hour  was  rapidly  ap- 
proaching when  it  was  evident  anarchy  would  trample  upon  the  ruins  of 
monarchy.  At  length  a  fierce  civil  war  arose  ;  religion  was  made  a  polit- 
ical stalking-horse,  and  gross  hypocrisy  overspread  the  land.  Enthu- 
siasts, equally  inaccessible  to  reason  or  revelation,  to  a  sense  of  propriety 
or  any  moral  restraint,  exercised  the  most  irresistible  influence  on  the 
course  of  events.  The  high  church  sunk  into  misery  ;  the  ancient  nobil- 
ity were  basely  degraded  ;  the  whole  constitution  fell  into  ruins ;  a  "  sol- 
emn mockery,"  miscalled  the  king's  trial,  took  place,  and  Charles  finally 
perished  by  the  axe  of  the  executioner,  a.  d.  1649.  His  death  was  soon 
followed  by  the  usurpation  of  Cromwell,  an  incorrigible  tyrant,  detested 
at  home  and  feared  abroad,  but  who  had  not  long  left  the  scene  of  hi« 


C2 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OP  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


restless  ambition,  befcire  the  nation,  weary  of  tyranny  iiiid  hypocrisy,  re- 
stored the  son  of  tlieir  murdered  sovereign  to  the  throne;  a.  d.  1660. 

From  the  peace  of  Westphalia  until  the  death  of  Ferdinand  III.,  in 
1657,  Germany  remained  undisturbed,  when  considerable  ferment  pre- 
vailed in  the  Diet,  respecting  the  election  of  his  successor.  The  choice 
of  the  electors,  however,  having  fallen  on  his  son  Leopold,  he  immediate- 
ly contracted  an  alliance  with  Poland  and  Denmark,  against  Sweden,  and 
a  numerous  army  of  Austrians  entered  Pomerania,  but  failing  in  their 
object,  peace  was  quickly  restored.  He  next  turned  his  arms  against  the 
Turks,  who  had  invaded  Transylvania,  and  gave  them  a  signal  overthrow. 
In  this  situation  of  affairs  the  youthful  and  ambitious  Louis  XIV.,  king 
of  France  '  stu  led  the  peace  of  the  empire  by  an  attack  upon  the  Neth- 
erlands, j1  .10  claimed  in  right  of  his  queen,  sister  of  Philip  IV.,  the 
latekinjjof  ,.pain.  In  a  secret  treaty,  Louis  and  Leopold  had  divided 
the  Spanish  monarchy;  to  the  former  was  given  the  Netherlands,  and  to 
the  latter  Spain,  after  the  demise  of  Charles  II.,  the  reigning  monarcn. 
Having  prepared  ample  means,  the  king  and  Turenne  entered  Flanders, 
and  immediately  reduced  Charleroi,  Tournay,  Douay,  and  Lille.  Such 
rapid  success  alarmed  the  other  European  powers,  who  feared  that  an- 
other campaign  would  make  him  master  of  tlie  Low  Countries,  and  a 
triple  alliance  was  formed  between  England,  Holland,  and  Sweden,  with 
a  view  of  setting  bounds  to  his  ambition,  and  of  compelling  Spain  to  ac- 
cede to  certain  prescribed  conditions.  A  treaty  was,  accordingly,  nego- 
tiated at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  by  which  Louis  was  allowed  to  retain  the  towns 
he  had  taken ;  and  these  he  secured  by  entrusting  their  fortifications  to 
the  celebrated  Vauban,  and  by  garrisoning  them  with  nis  best  troops ; 
A.  D.  1668. 

Louis  now  saw  that  his  designs  on  the  Netherlands  could  not  be  carried 
into  effect  without  the  co-operation  of  England ;  but  believing  that  the 
profligate  court  of  Charh  s  II.  was  open  to  corruption,  he  easily  succeed- 
ed, through  the  medium  of  Charles's  sister,  Henrietta,  the  duchess  of  Or- 
leans, in  prevailing  on  t'..e  prodigal  king  of  England  to  conclude  a  secre'r 
treaty  with  him,  in  which  it  was  agreed  that  Charles  should  receive  t 
large  pension  from  Louis,  and  aid  him  in  subduing  the  United  Provinces 
The  cabinet  of  Versailles  having  also  succeeded  in  detaching  Swedep 
from  the  triple  alliance,  bot>  monarchs,  under  the  most  frivolous  pre 
tences,  declared  war  against  the  Slates,  a.  d.  1673.  Without  the  shadow 
of  a  pretext,  Louis  seized  the  duchy  of  Lorraine,  and  Charles  made  a 
base  and  unsuccessful  attempt  to  capture  the  Dutch  Smyrna  fleet,  even 
while  the  treaty  between  the  two  countries  existed.  The  power  that  was 
thus  confederated  against  Holland,  it  was  impossible  to  withstand.  The 
combined  fleets  of  France  and  England  amounted  to  more  than  120  sail, 
and  the  French  army  on  the  frontiers  consisted  of  120,000  men.  The 
latter,  in  the  first  instance,  bore  down  all  opposition,  but  on  the  command 
of  the  Dutch  army  being  given  lu  llie  young  prince  of  Orange,  William 
III.,  the  spirits  and  energy  of  the  nation  revived,  and  both  the  govern- 
ment and  the  people  were  united  in  their  determination,  rather  than  sub- 
mit to  disgraceful  terms,  to  abandon  their  country,  and  emigrate  in  a  body 
to  their  colonies  in  the  East  Indies.  Meanwhile  their  fleets  under  Van 
Tromp  and  De  Ruyter  engaged  the  combined  French  and  English  fleets 
under  Prince  Rupert,  in  three  hard-fought  but  indecisive  actions  ;  the  em- 
peror and  the  elector  of  Brandenburg  joined  the  Dutch  cause ;  and 
Charles  II.,  distressed  for  want  of  money,  and  alarmed  by  the  discontent 
of  his  own  subjects,  first  concluded  a  separate  peace  with  Holland,  and 
then  offered  his  mediation  towards  bringing  about  a  reconciliation  of  the 
other  contending  parties. 

Louis  at  the  head  of  one  of  his  armies  conquered  Franche-Compt6  in 
the  next  campaign;  while  Turenne  was  successful  on  the  side  of  Ger- 


OUTLINE  8KKTCH  OP  aENEllAL  JlldTOllY 


6S 


re- 


many;  but  Jisjjracpd  hia  trophies  by  tho  (Icvastatiun  ami  rniii  of  the  Pa- 
jatiiiatc.  Ill  l(i75,  he  was  killed  by  a  caiinon-ball;  ami  the  French  army 
was  forced  to  recross  the  Hhiiie.  They  were  suecesHfnl,  liovvever,  in  the 
ensuing  cainpai{(n;  and  tlieir  fleet  defeated  I)e  lluyter,  after  a  series  of 
obstinate  engagements  off  Sicily,  m  one  of  which  he  was  slain.  In  1G77, 
another  campaign  was  opened,  which  proved  still  more  favourable  to  the 
French.  Valenciennes,  Cambray,  and  St.  Omcr  were  taken  ;  marshal  De- 
Luxembourg  defeated  the  prince  of  Orange,  and  several  important  ad- 
vantages were  gained  by  the  French.  At  length  the  Dutch  became  anx- 
ious for  peace,  and  signed  the  treaty  of  Mineguen,  in  1()7R. 

Louis  employed  tliis  interval  of  neaco  in  strengthening  his  frontiers, 
and  in  making  preparations  for  fresh  conr|uests.  He  then  treacherously 
maiie  himself  master  of  Strasburg,  and  some  other  places  in  Flanders. 
By  these  aggressions  tho  flames  of  war  were  nearlv  rekindled  ;  but  the 
treaty  of  Ratisbon  prevented  the  continuance  of  hostilities,  and  left  tho 
French  in  possession  of  Luxembourg,  Strasburg,  and  the  fort  of  Khel. 

At  this  time  (1083)  the  imperial  arms  were  occupied  in  opposing  the 
Turks,  who,  having  invaded  Hungary,  and  marched  towards  Vieima, 
that  city  was  on  the  point  of  being  carried  by  assault,  when  the  cele- 
brated John  Sobieski,  king  of  Poland,  came  to  its  relief  at  tlu!  head  of  a 
numerous  army.  This  revived  the  confidence  of  the  besieged,  and  their 
assailants  were  repulsed;  while  the  main  body,  which  had  been  led  by 
the  grand  vizier  to  meet  the  Poles,  were  thrown  into  disorder  at  the 
first  charge  of  the  Polish  cavalry,  and  fled  in  the  utmost  confusion  ; 
leaving  in  possession  of  the  victors  their  artillery,  baggage,  treasures, 
and  even  the  consecrated  banner  of  the  prophet.  During  the  s  tj  of 
Vienna,  Louis  had  suspended  his  operations,  declaring  (hat  he  wn  I  iiot 
attack  a  (christian  power  while  Europe  was  menaced  by  infidels.  He 
was  now  at  the  height  of  his  power;  and  no  sooner  had  the  valour  of 
Sobieski  overwhelmed  t'  3  Ottoman  force,  then  he  recommenced  his  war 
of  aggrandizement.  He  had  just  before  humbled  the  pirate  states  of 
Africa,  trampled  on  ^  indepe;  deuce  of  Genoa,  concluded  an  advantage- 
ous peace  with  Sp;  and  rendered  himself  obnoxious  to  the  papal  court 
by  insidting  the  dignity  of  the  pope.  But  while  his  ambition  was  alarm- 
ing the  fears  and  rousing  the  indignation  of  Europe,  he  committed  an 
error  which,  in  a  political  point  of  view,  the  most  intolerant  bigotry  could 
scarcely  be  blind  enough  to  excuse.  Henry  IV.  had  wisely  granted 
religious  freedom  to  the  French  protestants,  and  the  edict  of  Nantes 
which  secured  it  to  them  was  designed  to  be  perpetual.  But  after  vainly 
endeavouring  to  control  their  consciences  or  reward  their  apostacy,  Louis 
formally  revoked  the  edict  of  Nantes,  and  treated  his  protestant  subjects 
with  all  the  injustice  and  cruelty  that  blind  fanaticism  could  dictate,  or 
brutality  execute.  By  this  insensate  act  he  deprived  his  country  of  half 
a  million  of  inhabitants,  who  transferred  to  other  lands  their  wealth,  their 
industry,  and  their  commercial  intelligence. 

Ihe  Turkish  war  having  been  terminated,  a  league  was  formed  at 
Augsburg,  between  the  princes  of  Germany,  to  resist  the  further  en- 
croachments of  the  French  king.  To  this  league  Spain,  Holland, 
Sweden,  and  Denmark,  acceded;  and  Louis  having  undertaken  to  restore 
James  II.  who  had  lately  been  dethroned  by  William,  prince  of  Orange, 
England  joined  the  alliance. 

We  must  here  briefly  allude  to  the  revolution  which  had  placed  the 
prince  of  Orange  on  the  throne  of  England.  James  II.  brother  of  the 
facetious  but  unprincipled  Charles  H.  was  a  zealous  proselyte  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  faith,  and  connected  with  the  order  of  the  Jesuits.  One 
part  of  the  nation  was  enthusiastically  attached  to  freedom,  and  a.iother 
was  chiefly  inspired  by  the  hatred  of  the  papal  ceremonies ;  but  all 
agreed  that  the  king  had  no  just  or  constitutional  power  to  dictate  to  tht 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  07  GENERAL  UI8T0RV. 


nation  in  matters  of  relij^ion.  Jaiucs  had  offended  many  of  the  noble* , 
and  they,  instead  of  succumbing  to  the  man  they  despised,  addressed 
themselves  to  the  stadtholdar,  who  was  his  nephew  and  successor,  and 
the  presumptive  heir  to  the  throne.  At  this  juncture  the  queen  of 
England  bore  a  son ;  an  event  wiiich  produced  different  effects  on  the 
hopes  of  the  catholics  and  protestants.  The  stadtholdcr,  immovable  in 
all  contingcnces,  was  confirmed  in  his  resolution  of  rescuing  England 
from  the  tyranny  by  which  it  was  now  oppressed ;  but  he  kept  his  own 
secret,  and  preserved  his  usual  character  of  tranquillity,  reserve,  and  im- 
ponetrability.  Many  of  the  English  nobility  repaired  to  the  Hague, 
where  William  lamented  their  situation;  and,  with  great  secrecy,  fitted 
out  an  armament  that  was  to  effect  the  deliverance  of  the  English  nation 
from  popery  and  despotism.  Though  the  king  of  Prance  had  sent  James 
information  of  the  proceedings  of  the  prince  of  Orange,  the  infatuated 
king  could  not  be  persuaded  of  his  danger  until  the  expedition  was  on 
the  point  of  sailing.  At  length  the  stadtholder  landed  in  Torbay;  and 
the  unfortunate  monarch,  finding  the  situation  of  his  affairs  desperate, 
hastily  quitted  the  English  shores,  and  sought  an  asylum  in  France.  A 
convention  was  then  summoned,  the  throne  declared  vacant,  and  the 
prince  and  princess  of  Orange,  as  "  King  William  III.  and  Queen  Mary," 
were  proclaimed  king  and  queen  of  England.  This  was  followed  by  the 
passing  of  the  "  Bill  of  Rights"  and  the  "Act  of  Settlement,"  by  which 
the  future  liberties  of  the  people  were  secured. 

At  the  head  of  the  league  of  Augsburg  was  the  Emperor  Leopold  ;  but 
Louis,  not  daunted  by  the  number  of  the  confederates,  assembled  two 
large  armies  in  Flanders;  sent  another  to  oppose  the  Spaniards  in  Catalo- 
nia; while  a  fourth  was  employed  as  a  barrier  on  the  German  frontier, 
and  ravaged  the  palatinate  with  fire  and  sword ;  driving  the  wretched 
victims  of  his  barbarous  policy  from  their  burning  houses  by  thousandsi 
to  perish  with  cold  and  hunger  on  the  frozen  ground.  In  the  next  cam- 
paign his  troops  arclileved  several  important  victories,  and  the  French 
fleet  defeated  the  combined  fleets  of  England  and  Holland  off  Beachy- 
head,  a.d.  1690.  Thus  the  war  continued  for  the  three  following  years, 
exhausting  the  resources  of  every  party  engaged  in  it,  without  any  im- 
portant change  taking  place,  or  any  decisive  advantage  being  gained  by 
either  that  wai5  likely  to  produce  a  cessation  of  hostilities.  With  all  the 
military  glory  that  France  had  acquired,  her  conquests  were  unproductive 
of  any  solid  advantage  ;  her  finances  were  in  a  sinking  state  ;  her  ag.i- 
culture  and  commerce  were  languishing ;  and  the  country  was  threatened 
with  the  horrors  of  famine,  arising  from  a  failure  of  the  crops  and  the 
scarcity  of  hands  to  cultivate  the  soil.  All  parties,  indeed,  were  now 
grown  weary  of  a  war  in  which  nothing  permanent  was  effected,  and  in 
which  the  bloc  ind  treasure  of  the  combatants  continued  to  be  profusely 
and  useless  expunded.  Accordingly,  in  1697,  negotiations  were  commen- 
ced, under  the  mediation  of  the  youthful  Charles  XII.,  king  of  Sweden, 
and  a  treaty  concluded  at  Byswiek,  by  which  Louis  made  great  conces- 
sions, restoring  to  Spain  the  principal  places  he  had  wrested  from  her; 
but  the  renunciation  of  the  Spanish  succession,  which  it  had  been  the  main 
object  of  the  war  to  enforce,  was  not  even  alluded  to  in  the  treaty. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

COMMENCEMENT  OP  THE  EIOHTCENTH  CENTURY,  TO  THE  PEACE  OF  UTRECHT. 

The  declining  health  of  Charles  II.,  king  of  Spain,  who  had  no  chil 
dren,  engaged  the  attention  of  the  European  powers,  and  kept  on  the 
alert  those  princes  who  were  claimants  of  the  crown.    The  candidates 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


65 


im- 

by 

the 

ctive 


ite> 


irere  Louis  XIV.,  the  Kmperor  Leopold,  and  the  elector  of  Davaria ;  nn 
it  was  iiiitiiifostly  to  llio  interest  of  tliosw  who  wished  to  preserve  the 
biilaiicc  of  power  in  Europe  that  the  choice  should  fall  on  the  latter ;  but 
he  wns  unable  to  contend  with  his  rivals.  A  secret  treaty  of  partition 
wa.H  therefore  signed  by  France,  Kngland,  and  Holland,  by  which  it  was 
agreed  that  Spain,  America,  and  the  Netherlands,  should  be  given  to  the 
cleeioral  prince  of  Davaria;  Naples,  Sicily,  and  the  Italian  stales,  to  the 
dauphin,  and  ihe  duchy  of  Slilan  to  the  emperor's  second  son,  the  arch- 
duke Charles.  This  treaty  coming  to  the  knowledge  of  the  king  of 
Spain,  he  was  naturally  indignant  that  his  possessions  should  thus  be  dis- 
posed of  during  his  life  ;  and  he  immediately  made  a  will  in  favour  of  the 
electoral  pnmro.  This  well  suited  the  views  of  England  and  Holland ; 
but  the  intention  was  scarcely  made  known,  when  the  favoured  prince 
died  suddenly,  not  without  suspicion  of  having  been  poisoned.  The 
prince's  death  revived  the  apprehensions  of  England  and  Holland,  and 
they  entered  into  a  new  treaty  of  partition.  But  the  king  of  Spain  be- 
queathed the  whole  of  his  dominions  to  the  duke  of  Anjou,  second  son  of 
the  dauphin,  who  was  universally  acknowledged  by  the  nation  after  the 
death  of  Charles,  who  died  in  1701 ;  and  the  young  king  was  crowned 
under  the  title  of  Philip  V. 

The  emperor  Leopold  being  determined  to  support  the  claims  of  his 
gon,  war  itnmediately  commenced,  and  an  army  was  sent  into  Italy, 
where  he  met  with  great  success.  Prince  Eugene  having  expelled  the 
French  from  the  Milanese,  a  grand  alliance  was  formed  between  Ger- 
many, England,  and  Holland.  The  avowed  objects  of  this  alliance  were 
"to  procure  satisfaction  to  his  imperial  majesty  in  the  case  of  the 
Spanish  succession ;  obtain  security  to  the  English  and  Dutch  for  their 
dominions  and  commerce ;  prevent  the  union  of  the  monarchies  of 
France  and  Spain ;  and  hinder  the  French  from  possessing  the  Spanish 
dominions  in  America." 

James  II.,  the  exiled  king  of  England,  died  at  St.  Germain's  in  France, 
on  the  7lh  of  September,  1701 ;  and  was  succeeded  in  his  nominal  titles 
by  his  son,  James  III.,  better  known  by  the  appellation  of  the  Pretender. 
With  more  magnanimity  than  prudence,  Louis  XIV.  recognised  his  right 
to  the  throne  his  father  had  abdicated,  which  could  not  be  considered 
in  any  other  light  than  that  of  an  insult  to  William  and  the  English 
nation  ;  and  the  parliament  strained  every  nerve  to  avenge  the  indignity 
offered  to  the  monarch  of  their  choice ;  but  before  the  actual  commence- 
ment of  hostilities,  William  met  with  his  death,  occasioned  by  a  fall  from 
his  horse,  a.d.  1702. 

Anne,  second  daughter  of  James  II.,  and  wife  of  George,  prince  of 
Denmark,  immediately  ascended  the  vacant  throne  ;  and,  declarmg  her 
resolution  to  adhere  to  the  grand  alliance,  war  was  declared  by  the  three 
powers  against  France,  on  the  same  day,  at  London,  the  Hague,  and 
Vienna.  Her  reign  proved  a  series  of  battles  and  of  triumphs.  Being 
resolved  to  pursue  the  plans  of  her  predecessor,  she  entrusted  the  com- 
mand of  the  army  to  the  earl  of  Marlborough,  who  obtained  considerable 
successes  in  Flanders ;  while  the  combined  English  and  Dutch  fleets 
captured  the  galleons,  laden  with  the  treasures  of  Spanish  America, 
which  were  lying  in  Vigo  bay,  under  the  protection  of  a  French  fleet. 
Meanwhile,  the  French  had  the  advantage  in  Italy  and  Alsace;  but  in 
Flanders  the  genius  of  Marlborough  (now  raised  to  a  dukedom)  contin- 
ued to  be  an  overmatch  for  the  generals  opposed  to  him.  Having  secured 
nis  conquests  in  that  country,  he  resolved  to  march  into  Germany,  to  the 
aid  of  the  emperor,  who  had  to  contend  with  the  Hungarian  insurgents 
as  well  as  the  French  and  Bavarians.  He  accordingly  crossed  the  Rhine, 
and  meeiing  prince  Eugene  at  Mondlesheim,  a  junction  was  agreed  op 
and  efl'ecied  with  the  Imperialists  under  the  duke  of  Baden;  and,  thus 
I.— 5 


M  OUTLINE  8KKTCH  OP  GENKRAL  HISTORY. 

united,  they  advanced  to  tlio  Danube.  The  rival  armies  each  amounted 
to  about  C0,000  men.  The  French  and  Bavarians  were  posted  on  a  hill 
near  the  village  of  Blenheim,  on  the  Danube;  but  though  their  position 
was  well  chosen,  their  line  was  weakened  by  detachments,  which  "!-'l- 
borough  perceiving,  he  charged  through,  and  a  signal  victory  was  the 
result.  Tiie  French  commander,  Tallanl,  was  made  prisoner,  and  30,000 
of  the  French  and  Bavarian  troops  were  killed,  wounded,  atid  taken  ; 
while  the  loss  of  the  allies  amounted  to  5,000  killed,  and  7,000  wounded : 
A.D.  1704.  By  this  brilliant  victory  the  emperor  was  liberated  from  all 
danger;  the  Hungarian  insurgents  were  dispersed;  and  the  discomfited 
army  of  France  hastily  songlit  shelter  within  their  own  frontiers.  In 
Spain  and  Italy  the  advantage  wan  on  the  side  of  the  French;  but  the 
victory  of  Blenheim  not  only  compensated  for  other  failures,  but  it 
greatly  raised  the  English  character  for  military  prowess,  and  animated 
the  courage  of  the  allies. 

Among  other  great  exploits  of  the  war  was  the  capture  of  Gibraltar  by  Ad- 
miral Sir  George  Rooko  and  the  prince  of  Ff esse.  This  fortress,  which  had 
hitherto  been  deemed  impregnable,  has  ever  since  continued  in  possession  of 
the  English,  who  have  defeated  every  attempt  made  by  the  Spaniards  for 
its  recovery. 

In  the  following  year  (1705),  the  emperor  Leopold  died,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  his  son  .Foseph.  In  Italy  the  French  obtained  some  consider- 
able advantages  ;  while  in  Spain  nearly  all  Valencia  and  the  province  of 
Catalonia  submitted  to  Charles  FII.  Tlie  hupes  and  fears  of  the  belliycr- 
ants  were  thus  kept  alive  by  the  various  successes  and  defeats  they 
experienced.  Louis  appeared  to  act  with  even  more  than  his  usual  ardour: 
he  sent  an  army  into  Germany,  who  drove  the  Imperialists  before  them; 
while  his  Italian  army  besieged  Turin,  and  Marshal  Villeroy  was  ordered 
to  act  on  the  offensive  in  Flanders.  This  general,  with  a  superior  force, 
gave  battle  to  Marlborough  at  Ramillies,  and  was  defeated,  with  a  loss  of 
7000  killed,  GOOO  prisoners,  and  avast  quantity  of  artillery  and  ammunition. 
All  Brabant,  and  nearly  nil  Spanish  Flanders,  submitted  to  the  conquerors. 
The  allies,  under  Prince  Eugene,  were  also  successful  in  Italy ;  while,  in 
Spain,  Philip  was  forced  for  a  time  to  abandon  his  capital  to  the  united 
forces  of  the  English  and  Portuguese.  Louis  was  so  disheartened  by 
these  reverses  that  he  proposed  peace  on  very  advantageous  terms ;  but 
the  allies,  instigated  by  the  duke  of  Marlborough  and  Prince  Eugene,  reject- 
ed it,  although  the  objects  of  the  grand  alliance  might  at  that  time  have 
been  gained  without  the  further  effusion  of  blood.  Thus  refused,  Louis 
once  more  exerted  all  his  energies.  His  troops  having  been  compelled  to 
evacuate  Italy,  he  sent  an  additional  force  into  Spain,  where  the  duke  of  Ber- 
wick (a  natural  son  of  James  II.)  gained  a  brilliant  and  decisive  victory  at  Al- 
manza  over  the  confederates,  who  were  commanded  by  the  earl  of  Gal  way 
and  the  marquis  de  las  Minas  ;  while  the  duke  of  Orleans  reduced  Valencia, 
and  the  cities  of  Lerida  and  Saragossa.  The  victory  of  Almanza  restored 
the  Boiubon  cause  in  Spain ;  and  Marshal  Villars,  at  the  head  of  the  French 
army  in.,Germany,  laid  the  duchy  of  VVirtemberg  under  contribution 

The  general  result  of  the  war  hitherto  had  miserably  disappointed  the 
English ;  Marlborough  felt  that  a  more  brilliant  campaign  was  necessary 
to  render  him  and  his  party  popular.  He  therefore  crossed  the  Scheldt, 
and  came  up  with  the  French  army,  under  Vendome,  at  Oudenarde.  They 
were  strongly  posted  ;  but  the  British  cavalry  broke  through  the  enemy's 
lines  at  the  first  charge ;  and  though  tlie  approach  of  night  favoured  the  re- 
treat of  the  French,  they  v/erc  p'.:t  to  a  total  rout,  and  9000  prisoners  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  English.  Shortly  after,  Lisle  was  forced  to  surren- 
der ,  and  Ghent  and  Bruges,  which  had  been  taken  by  Vendome,  were  re- 
taken. About  the  same  time  the  islands  of  Sardinia  and  Minorca  surren 
dered  to  the  English  fleet,  and  the  pope  was  compelled  to  acknowledge  the 
archduke  Charles  aa  the  lawful  king  of  Spain :  a.  d.  1708. 


'  «• 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OP  OKNKBAL  HISTORY. 


m 


The  troasury  of  Louis  being  (rreatly  exhausted,  and  his  councils  dis- 
tracted, ho  iiKiiiii  exprt'ssed  his  willingneBS  to  makeover)  reasonable  con- 
cossKni  for  the  attainment  of  peace,  offering  even  to  abandon  the  whole  of 
the  Spanish  nionaroliy  to  the  archduke ;  but  his  proffers  being  rejected, 
exci'[)t  on  terms  incompatible  with  national  safety  or  personal  honour,  the 
French  king,  trusting  to  the  affection  and  patriotism  of  his  people,  called 
upon  them  to  rise  in  defence  of  the  monarchy,  and  in  support  of  their  hum- 
ble and  aged  king.  His  appeal  was  patriotically  responded  to.  Kvery 
nerve  was  strained  to  raise  a  large  army,  and  the  salvation  of  France  was 
confided  to  Marshal  Villars.  The  allied  army  was  formed  on  the  plains 
of  Lisle;  the  French  covered  Dohay  and  Arras.  Kugene  and  Marlbo- 
rough invested  Mons.  Villars  encamped  within  a  league  of  it,  at  Mal- 
nla(|uet.  Klatcd  with  past  success,  the  confederates  attacked  him  in  his 
mlrenehments:  the  contest  was  obstinate  and  bloody:  and  though  the  al- 
lies  remained  masters  of  the  field,  their  loss  amoimted  to  about  15,000 
men ;  wliiln  that  of  the  French,  who  retreated,  was  not  less  than  10,000, 
(Sept.  11.  1709).  Louis  again  sued  for  peace;  and  conferences  were 
opened  at  Gerlruydenl)urg  early  in  the  following  spring  :  but  the  allies  still 
insisting  upon  the  same  conditions,  the  French  monarch  again  rejected 
them  with  firmness.  The  war  continued,  and  with  it  the  successes  of 
the  allies  in  Flanders  and  in  Spain,  where  the  archduke  again  obtained 
possession  of  Madrid.  But  the  nobility  remaining  faithful  to  Philip,  and 
fresh  succours  arriving  from  France,  tlie  duke  of  Vendome  compelled  the 
allies  to  retire  towards  Catalonia,  wliilher  they  marched  in  two  bodies. 
The  English  general,  Stanhope,  who  commanded  the  rear  division,  was 
surrounded  at  Brighuega,  and  forced  to  surrender,  with  5000  men ;  and 
though  the  principal  division,  led  by  Starnnberg,  compelled  Vendome  to 
retreat,  and  continued  tboir  march  in  safety,  they  were  unable  to  check 
the  victorious  progress  of  Philip's  arms. 

The  expenses  of  a  war  so  wholly  unproductive  to  England  had  by  thi» 
time  exhausted  the  patience  of  the  nation ;  and  a  change  had  taken  placf 
in  the  British  cabinet  that  was  unfavourable  to  Marlborough  and  his  designs 
Through  the  death  of  tiin  emperor  Joseph,  which  had  just  occurred,  the 
arclululie  Charles  succeeded  to  tiie  imperial  dignity,  thus  giving  a  new 
turn  to  the  politics  of  the  sovereigns  of  Europe,  who  were  in  alliance  to 
prevent  the  union  of  tlie  Spanisii  and  German  crowns  :  a  great  obstacle  to 
the  restoration  of  peace  was  therefore  removed.  Hostilities  however  con- 
tinued, but  with  so  little  energy,  that  no  event  of  importance  occurred  du- 
ring the  whole  campaign.  At  length  the  English  and  French  plenipoten- 
tiaries concurring  in  the  same  desire  for  peace,  preliminaries  were  signed 
between  England  and  France,  at  London,  Dec.  1712.  The  following  year 
a  congress  was  held  at  Utrecht  for  the  general  pacification  of  Europe  ;  and 
a  definite  treaty  of  peace  was  signed  on  the  31st  of  March,  1713,  by  the 
plenipotentiaries  of  all  the  belligerant  powers,  except  those  of  the  empe- 
ror and  the  king  of  Spain.  It  was  stipulated  that  Philip  should  renounce 
all  title  to  the  crown  of  France,  and  the  duke  of  Berriand  Orleans  to  that 
of  Spain;  that  if  Philip  should  die  without  male  issue,  the  duke  of  Savoy 
should  succeed  to  the  throne  of  Spain  ;  that  the  Spanish  Netherlands, 
Naples,  Milan,  and  the  Spanish  territories  on  the  Tuscan  coast  should  be 
secured  to  Austria ;  that  the  Rhine  should  be  the  boundary  between  France 
and  Germany  ;  and  that  England  was  to  retain  Gibraltar  and  Minorca. 
In  the  following  year  the  emperor  signed  the  treaty  of  Rastadt,  the  condi- 
tions of  which  were  less  favourable  to  him  than  tHose  offered  at  Utrecht; 
and  Philip  V.  acceding  to  it  some  time  after,  Europe  once  more  enjoyed 
tranquillity.  Shortly  after  having  thus  extricated  himself  from  all  his  diffi- 
culties,  the  long  and  eventful  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  was  terminated  by  his 
death,  and  his  great  grandson,  Louis  XV.  "^eing  a  minor,  the  duke  of  Orleans 
was  made  regent  of  France. 


M 


OUTLINE  HKKTCH  OF  OKNEHAL  JIISTOEY. 


CHAPTKR    XVM. 

THE   AOK  or  CIIARLKS  XII.  Of    •WKDK.'«,    AND  PKTKR  TIIU  ORKAT  Of   RUSSIA. 

Tiioi'oii  wo  have  confined  our  nttenlion  to  the  wars  which  occupitMl  the 
Bouth  and  west  of  Kuropo  at  the  latter  end  of  iho  17th  ci  iilury,  wo  must 
not  overlook  the  eventH  that  took  jjlnee  in  the  north  and  east,  throii({li  tlie 
rivalry  and  ambition  of  two  of  the  mostextrnoniinary  ihura(;lerH  lliat  ever 
wielded  the  weapons  of  war,  or  conlrolied  the  fate  of  enipircH  :  these  men 
were  Charles  XII.,  of  Sweden,  and  Peter  the  Great,  of  Itussia. 

It  is  here  nccessaty  to  rctracre  our  steps  for  a  few  years.  In  ICfil  the 
people  of  Denmark,  disgusted  with  the  tyranny  of  their  nobles,  solemnly 
surrendered  their liberti(!s  to  the  king;  and  Frederic,  almost  witliout  any 
eftbrt  of  his  own,  becaitie  an  absolute  monarch.  His  successor.  Christian 
v.,  made  war  on  Charles  XI.,  of  Sweden,  who  defended  himself  with  great 
ability,  and,  dying  in  1607,  left  his  crown  to  his  son,  the  valiant  and  enter- 
prising Charles  XII. 

During  the  reign  of  Alexis,  Russia  began  to  emerge  from  the  barbarism 
into  winch  it  had  been  plunged  by  the  Mongolian  invasion  and  the  civil 
wars  occasioned  by  a  long  course  of  tyramiy  on  the  part  of  its  rulers.  His 
son  Theodore  pursued  an  enlightened  policy,  reforming  the  laws  encour 
aging  the  arts,  and  introducing  tiie  manners  and  customs  of  more  civilized 
nations.  At  his  death  he  bequeathed  the  crown  to  liis  younger  brother, 
Peter,  in  preference  to  his  imbecile  brother  Ivan,  who  was  several  years 
his  senior.  Through  the  intrigues  of  their  ambitions  sister  Sophia,  a  re- 
bellion broke  out;  and  owing  to  the  incapacity  of  onq  brother  anil  the 
youth  of  the  other,  &..e  continiied  to  exercise  tne  whole  sovereign  power. 
Being  accused,  however,  of  plotting  the  destruction  of  her  youngest  bro- 
ther, she  was  immediately  arrested  and  imprisoned;  and  Ivan  having  re- 
tired into  private  life,  Peter  became  sole  and  undisputed  master  of  the 
Russian  empire,  which  was  destined  through  his  eflforts,  to  acquire  event 
ually  an  emnient  rank  among  the  leading  powers  of  Europe. 

Endowed  witii  an  ardent. thirst  for  knowledge,  gifted  with  the  most  per- 
severing courage,  and  animated  by  the  hope  of  civilizing  his  nation,  Peter 
I., deservedly  surnamed  the  Great,  exiiibiledto  tlie  world  tlie  unusual  spec- 
tacle of  a  sovereign  descending  awhile  from  the  throne  for  the  purpose  ol 
rendering  himself  more  worthy  of  tlie  crown.  Having  regulated  the  internal 
affairs  of  Russia,  Peter  left  Moscow,  and  visited  France,  Holland,  and 
England  »/jco^n»<o;  investigating  their  laws,  studying  their  arts,  sciences,  and 
manufactures,  and  everywhere  engaging  the  most  skilful  artists  and  me- 
chanics to  follow  him  into  Russia.  But  his  desires  did  not  end  there,  he  wish 
ed  also  to  become  a  conqueror.  He  accordingly,  in  1700,  entered  into  an 
alliance  with  Poland  and  Denmark,  for  ihu  purpose  of  stripping  the  youth- 
ful Charles  XII.  of  the  whole,  or  of  a  part  of  nis  dominions.  Nothing  dis- 
mayed, the  heroic  Swede  entered  into  an  alliance  with  Holland  and  Eng- 
land, laid  siege  to  Copenhagen  and  compelled  the  Danish  government  to 
sue  for  peace.  The  Russians  had  in  the  meantime  besieged  Narva  with 
80,000  men.  But  Charles  having  thus  crushed  one  of  his  enemies,  in  the 
short  space  of  three  weeks,  immediately  marched  to  the  relief  of  Narva, 
where,  with  only  10,000  men  he  forced  the  Russian  entrenchments,  killed 
18,000  and  took  30,000  prisoners,  with  all  their  artillery,  baggage,  and 
immuriition.  Peter  being  prepared  for  reverses,  coolly  ujserved,  "  I 
Knew  tliat  the  Swedes  would  beat  us,  but  they  will  teach  us  to  become 
conquerors  in  our  turn." 

Having  wintered  at  Narva,  in  the  following  year  Charles  defeated  the 
Poles  and  Saxons  on  the  Duna,  and  overran  Livonia,  Courland,  and  Li- 
thuania.    Elated  with  his  successes,  he  formed  the  project  of  dethroninj; 


OUTLINE  HKRTCH  OT  UKNKilAL  IIIRTOHY.       ,  H 

AiigntttiiH,  kiiijf  of  I'oliiiiil.  ('ombiimig  policy  with  \\w  terror  of  liiii  arma, 
he  ciitcicil  WarMuw,  n<\4,  throiiKh  llif  iiitriKues  of  llm  prmiiil*'  ol  Poland, 
ho  uhlaiiK'il  the  dcponitiuii  of  AukhhIuh,  and  ihc  clrrtioii  of  Ins  irK-ntl,  th« 
young  piiliitinc  StimiMliiUH  I.eczniski.  A.n.  1701.  Though  I'ftrr  hiul  lit'eii 
iinaMt!  to  afTonI  lii^*  ally  An(;nstiifl  niucli  usHiNtancc,  ho  had  not  boon  inac- 
tive. Narva,  so  roconily  lln'  sceno  of  his  diBconifilure,  ho  look  by  Htorm, 
and  Hont  an  army  of  flo.OOO  n>on  into  Poland.  'I'ho  Swodish  kinjj,  how- 
evor,  drove  llicin  onl  of  tlio  country,  and,  at  the  head  of  a  noble  and  vic- 
toriouH  a*iy,  ho  nuirclied  onwanl  withthoavowod  intontionof  dothronint( 
his  moHt  forniidablo  oiioniy,  tlio  czar  of  Kussia.  Pc'.er  endeavoured  to 
avert  the  storm  by  ncndiiiK  pr«)posalH  of  peace,  which  beinjt  haughtily  re- 
jected, he  relrei.ted  beyond  the  Dnieper,  and  sought  to  iiiipede  the  progress 
of  the  Swedes  towards  Moscow,  by  breaking  up  the  roads,  and  laying 
waste  the  surrounding  cou.-itry.  ('harles,  after  having  endured  great  pri- 
vations, and  being  urH(;d  by  Mazeppa,  li(;lman  or  chief  of  the  Cossacks, 
who  offered  to  join  him  with  30,000  men  and  supply  him  with  provisions, 
penetrated  into  the  Ukraine,  lie  readied  the  place  of  rendezvous,  but 
the  vigilance  of  Peter  had  rendered  the  designs  of  the  hctman  abortive, 
and  ho  now  appeared  rather  as  a  fugitive,  attended  with  a  few  hundiod 
followers  than  hb  a  potent  ally. 

The  Swedish  army  had  still  greater disappointmer  Is  to  meet  with.  No 
supplies  were  provided,  and  General  Lewenhaupt,  who  had  been  ordered 
lo  join  the  king  with  1.5,000  men  from  Livonia,  had  been  forced  into  threa 
engagements  with  the  Russians,  and  his  army  was  reduced  i"  4000. 
Ilraving  the.se  misfortunes,  Charles  continued  the  cam;  ,iign,  thof|h  in  the 
ileptli  of  winter.  In  the  midst  of  a  wild  and  barren  country,  witii  an  army 
almost  destitute  of  food  and  clothing,  and  perishing  with  cold,  he  madly 
ii'solved  to  proceed.  At  length  he  laid  siege  to  Pultowa,  a  'ortified  i  u/ 
iin  the  frontiers  of  the  Ukraine,  which  was  vigorously  'luiended.  Kis 
army  was  now  reduced  to  30,000  men,  and  lie  waa  suffering  fr-  ;  ;>  wound 
which  ho  had  received  while  viewing  the  works.  The  czar,  at  i  le  head 
of  70,000  men,  advanced  to  the  relief  of  Pultowa,  and  Chaic;  ,  carried  in 
H  litter,  set  out  with  the  main  body  of  his  army  to  give  him  battle.  At 
(ir.st  the  impetuosity  of  the  Swedes  made  the  Russians  give  way,  but 
Charles  had  no  cannon  and  the  czar's  artillery  made  dreadful  havoc  in  the 
Swedish  lines.  Notwithstanding  the  desperate  valour  of  the  troops,  the 
irretrievable  ruin  of  the  Swedes  was  soon  effected;  8000  were  killed, 
fiOOO  taken  prisoners,  and  12,000  fugitives  were  forced  to  surrrjider  on  the 
banks  of  the  Dneiper  from^want  of  boats  to  cross  the  river.  The  Swedish 
army  was  thus  wholly  destroyed.  Charles,  and  about  three  hundred 
men .  escaped  with  much  difficulty  to  Bender,  a  Turkish  town  in  Bessa- 
rabia, where  he  was  hospitably  received,  and  where  he  remained  inactive 
during  several  years,  buoyed  up  with  the  hope  that  the  Ottoman  Porte 
would  espouse  his  cause,  and  declare  against  the  czar  of  Russia.  In  one 
fatal  day  Charles  had  lost  the  fruits  of  nine  years'  victories,  and  the  shat- 
tered remnant  of  that  army  of  veterans,  before  .hom  the  bravest  troops 
of  other  countries  quailed,  were  transported  l-y  "iie  victorious  czar  to 
colonize  (he  wild  and  inhospitable  deserts  of  Sibuiia. 

But  the  inflexible  king  of  Sweden  had  not  even  yet  abandoned  all  hope 
of  humbling  the  power  of  his  hated  rival.  At  length,  in  1711,  war  was 
declared  against  Russia  by  the  Porte,  and  the  vizier  Baltagi  Mehemet  ad- 
vanced towards  the  Danube  at  the  head  of  '200,000  men.  By  this  immense 
force  the  Russian  army  on  the  banks  of  the  Pruth  was  closely  surrounded 
and  reduced  to  a  state  of  starvation.  At  this  critical  juncture,  the  czarina 
Catharine,  who  accompanied  her  husband,  sent  a  private  message  to  the 
vizier  and  procured  a  cessatii:)n  of  hostilities  preparatory  to  opening  nego- 
tiations, which  were  speedily  followed  by  a  treaty  of  peace.  Charles, 
who  had  calculated  on  the  total  destruction  of  the  czar,  felt  highly  in- 


yo 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OK  GENKRAL  HISTORY. 


censed  at  this  disappoinlment  of  his  most  ardent  hopes,  and  eventually 

?»rocured  the  dismissal  of  the  vizier.  His  successor,  however,  still  less 
avourable  to  the  views  of  the  royal  warrior,  persuaded  the  sultan,  Achmet 
III.,  to  sijrnify  his  wish  that  Charles  should  leave  the  Ottoman  empire.  But 
he  resolved  to  remain,  ajid  the  Porte  had  recourse  to  compulsory  mea- 
sures. His  house  was  invested  by  Turkish  troops,  and  after  a  fierce  de- 
fence on  the  part  of  himself  and  his  few  attendants,  he  was  taken  and  con- 
veyed as  a  prisoner  to  Adrianople. 

The  enemies  of  Sweden  were,  in  the  mean  lime,  prosecuting  their  suc- 
cessful career.  Stanislaus,  whom  Charles  had  placed  on  the  throne  of 
Poland,  had  been  compelled  to  yield  it  to  Augustus,  and  the  Swedish 
frontiers  were  threatened  on  every  side.  General  Steinbock,  after  having 
gained  a  brilliant  victory  over  the  Danes  and  Saxons  at  Gadebusch,  and 
burnt  Altona,  was  besieged  in  Tonningen,  and  forced  to  surrender  with  the 
whole  of  his  army.  Roused  at  this  intelligence,  the  king  of  Sweden 
left  Turkey,  and  after  traversing  Germany  wit'-)ut  any  attendant,  arrived 
safely  at  Stralsund,  the  capital  of  Swedish  Pomerania. 

At  the  opening  of  the  next  campaign,  [a.d.  1715]  Stralsund  was  besieged 
by  the  Prussians,  Danes  and  Saxons,  and  tlioug-h  obstinately  defended  by 
the  king,  was  forced  to  capitulate,  while  he  narrowly  escaped  in  a  small 
vessel  to  his  native  shores.  All  Europe  now  considered  that  his  last  effort 
had  been  made,  when  it  was  suddenly  announced  that  he  had  invaded 
Norway.  He  had  found  in  his  new  minister,  Uaron  de  Goertz,  a  man  who 
encouraged  his  mosl  extravagant  projects,  and  who  was  as  bold  in  the 
cabinet  as  his  master  was  undaunted  in  the  field.  Taking  advantage  of  a 
coolness  that  existed  between  Russia  and  the  other  enemies  of  Sweden, 
Goertz  proposed  that  Peter  and  Charles  should  unite  in  strict  amity,  and 
dictate  the  law  to  Europe.  A  part  of  this  daring  plan  was  tlie  restoration 
of  the  Stuarts  to  the  throne  of  England.  But  while  the  negotiations  were 
in  progress,  Charles  invaded  Norway  a  second  time,  and  laid  siege  to 
Frederickshall,  but  while  there  a  cannon-ball  terminated  his  eventful  life, 
and  his  sister  Ulrica  ascended  the  throne,  a.d.  1718. 

By  the  peace  which  Peter  signed  with  Sweden,  he  obtained  the  valua- 
ble provinces  of  Carelia,  Ingrain,  Esthovia,  and  Livonia.  On  this  glorious 
occasion  he  exchanged  the  title  of  czar  for  that  of  emperor  and  autocrat 
of  all  the  Russias,  which  was  recognized  by  every  European  power.  One 
year  after  (a.d.  1725)  this  truly  extraordinary  man  died,  in  the  53d  year 
of  his  age,  and  the  43d  of  a  glorious  and  useful  reign.  Peter  the  Great 
must  be  considered  as  the  real  founder  of  the  power  of  the  Russian  em- 
pire, but  while  history  records  of  him  many  noble,  humane,  and  generous 
actions,  he  is  not  exempt  from  the  charge  of  gross  barbarity,  particularly 
in  his  early  years.  He  must  not,  however,  be  judged  according  to  the 
standard  of  civilized  society,  but  as  an  absolute  monarch,  bent  on  thp 
exaltation  of  a  people  whose  manners  were  rude  and  barbarous. 

Catharine  I.  who  had  been  crowned  empress  the  preceding  year,  took 
quiet  possession  of  the  throne,  and  faithfully  pursued  the  plans  of  her  illus- 
trious husband  for  the  improvement  of  Russia ;  obtaining  the  love  of  her 
subjects  by  the  mildness  of  her  rule  and  the  truly  patriotic  zeal  she  evinced 
for  their  welfare.  She  died  in  the  second  year  of  her  reign,  and  left  the 
crown  to  Peter  II.,  son  of  the  unfortunate  Alexis,  and  the  regency  to 
prince  Menzicoff,  who  was  afterwards  disa^raced  and  banished  to  Siberia. 
After  a  short  and  peaceable  reign  Peter  11.  died,  and  with  him  ended  the 
male  line  of  the  family  of  Romanof  a  d.  1730. 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  OBNEllAL  HISTOttY. 


n 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  AFFAIRS  OF  EUROPK,  FROM  THE  ESTABLISHMENT  OF  THE  HANO  I  ERIAR 
SUCCESSION  IN  ENGLAND,  TO  THE  YEAR  1740. 

Arrived  at  a  period  of  comparative  repose,  we  may  now  take  a  retro- 
spective glance  at  tjie  affairs  of  Great  Britain.  In  1707,  Scotland  and 
England  had  been  united  under  this  appellation,  and  the  act  of  union  in- 
troduces equal  rights,  liberties,  commercial  arrangements,  and  a  parlia- 
ment common  to  both  nations.  During  the  life  of  William  111.  the  protes- 
tant  succession  had  been  decided  by  act  of  parliament,  in  favour  of  the 
countess  palatine  Sophia,  duchess  of  Hanover,  wife  of  the  first  electoral 
sovereign  of  that  territory  and  mother  of  George  I.  This  princess  died  a 
short  time  before  queen  Anne,  and  George  I.,  upon  that  event,  took  the 
oath  of  succession,  by  which  he  engaged  to  observe  and  maintain  the  laws 
and  liberties  of  Britain,  not  to  engage  that  kingdom  even  in  defensive 
wars  on  account  of  his  electorate,  and  to  employ  no  other  than  British 
ministers  and  privy  counsellors  in  the  administra'ion  of  government. 

As  George  I.  in  a  great  measure  owed  his  succession  to  the  crown  to 
the  Whig  party,  he  openly  avowed  himself  their  friend  and  patron,  and 
they  were  no  sooner  in  office  than  they  used  their  power  to  crush  their 
political  adversaries  the  Tories.  One- of  the  first  acts  of  his  reign  was 
the  impeachment  of  the  duke  of  Ormond,  and  the  lords  Oxford  and  Boling- 
broke.  Oxford  was  committed  to  ilie  Tower,  but  Bolingbroke  and  Or- 
mond made  their  escape  to  the  comment.  The  evident  partiality  of  the 
monarch  for  the  Whigs,  and  their  vindictive  proceedings,  gave  great  um- 
brage to  many  persons,  and  roused  the  anger  of  all  vvho  were  favourable 
to  the  Stuart  dynasty.  These  feelings  more  especially  prevailed  in  the 
Highlands  of  Scotland,  and  a  plan  was  formed  for  a  general  insurrection 
in  favour  of  the  Pretender,  whom  they  proclaimed  under  the  title  of  James 
HI.  By  the  authority  of  the  prince  the  earl  of  Mar  had  raised  his  standard, 
and  the  clans  quickly  crowded  to  it,  so  that  he  was  soon  at  the  head  of 
9,000  men,  including  several  noblemen  and  other  persons  of  distinction. 
But  tlieir  plans  were  prematurely  formed,  and  their  want  of  unanimity  in 
conducting  the  necessary  operations  proved  fatal  to  the  cause  in  which 
they  were  embarked.  They  were  attacked  and  completely  routed  by  the 
royal  forces  at  Preston  Pans,  a.d.  1716.  The  Pretender  and  the  earl  of 
Mar  effected  their  escape,  but  most  of  the  insurgent  chiefs  and  officers 
were  doomed  to  suffer  death  as  traitors.  The  rebellion  bemg  thus  sup- 
pressed, an  act  was  passed  for  making  parliaments  septennial,  instead  of 
triennial. 

We  now  return  to  the  affairs  of  Spain  and  other  continental  states.  We 
have  seen  that  the  death  of  the  emperor  and  the  accession  of  the  arch- 
duke Charles  to  the  imperial  throne,  left  Philip  V.  undisputed  master  of 
Spain  and  of  its  colonies.  His  first  queen  being  dead,  he  married  Elizabeth 
Farncso,  heiress  of  Parma,  Tuscany,  and  Placentia,  a  woman  of  mascu- 
line spirit,  who,  having  a  powerful  influence  over  the  mind  of  her  husband, 
and  being  herself  directed  by  the  daring  cardinal  Alberoni,  his  prime  min- 
ister, indulged  in  the  prospect  of  recovering  those  possessions  whicli  had 
been  wrested  from  Spain,  and  confirmed  by  the  peace  of  Utrecht.  The 
schemes  of  Alberoni,  in  fact,  went  much  farther;  by  the  aid  of  Charles 
XII.  of  Sweden,  and  Peter  I.  of  Russia,  he  designed  to  change  the  poli- 
tical condition  of  Europe ;  he  desired  to  restore  the  Stuarts  to  the  throne 
of  England,  to  deprive  the  drke  of  Orleans  of  the  regency  of  France,  and 
to  prevent  the  interference  of  the  emperor  by  engaging  the  Turks  to 
assail  his  dominions.  These  ambitious  projects  were  defeated  by  what 
was  termed  the  "  quadruple  alliance"  (a.d.  1716)  between  Austria,  France. 


72 


OITLINIi;  SKKTCH  OF  UKNKllAL   HISTORY. 


England  and  Holland.  The  court  of  Spain  for  a  time  resisted  this  pow- 
erful confederacy,  but  its  disasters  both  by  land  and  sea,  compelled  Philip 
to  accede  to  the  terms  which  were  offered  him,  and  Alberoni  was  dis- 
missed, A.D.  1720.  A  private  treaty  was  afterwards  concluded  between 
the  king  of  Spain  and  the  emperor,  and  another,  foi  the  express  purpose 
of  counteracting  it,  was  concluded  between  England,  France,  Holland, 
Prussia,  Denmark  and  Sweden.  This  led  to  a  short  war  between  Eng- 
land and  Spain :  the  English  sent  a  fleet  to  the  West  Indies  to  block  up 
the  galleons  in  Porto-Bello,  and  the  Spaniards  made  an  unsuccessful  at- 
tack upon  Gibraltar.  Neither  party  having  gained  by  the  rupture,  the 
mediation  of  France  was  accepted,  and  a  treaty  was  concluded  at  Seville, 
by  which  all  the  conditions  of  the  quadruple  alliance  were  ratified  and 
confirmed.  One  of  its  articles  providing  that  Don  Carlos,  son  of  the 
queen  of  Spain,  should  succeed  to  Parma  and  Placentia,  the  Spanish 
troops  now  took  formal  possession  of  those  territories.  It  was  also 
agreed  that  the  "pragmatic  sanction,"  or  law  by  which  the  emperor 
secured  the  succession  of  the  Austrian  dominions  to  his  female  heirs,  in 
failure  of  male  issue,  should  be  guaranteed  by  the  contracting  powers. 

George  I.,  king  of  England,  died  in  1727,  but  his  death  made  no  change 
in  the  politics  of  the  cabinet,  Sir  Robert  Walpole  continuing  at  the  head 
of  affairs  after  the  accession  of  George  II.  Some  few  years  previous  to 
the  death  of  his  father,  the  nation  had  experienced  much  loss  and  c(m- 
fusion  by  the  failure  of  the  "  South-Sea  scheme,"  a  commercial  specula- 
tion on  so  extensive  a  scale  that  it  had  well-nigh  produced  a  national 
bankruptcy.  It  was  a  close  imitation  of  the  celebrated  "  Mississippi 
scheme,"  which  had  a  short  time  before  involved  in  ruin  thousands  of 
our  Gallic  neighbours. 

The  pacific  disposition  of  Cardinal  Floury,  prime  minister  of  France, 
and  the  no  less  pacific  views  of  Walpole,  for  nearly  twenty  years  secured 
the  happiness  and  peace  of  both  countries.  But  the  pugnacious  spirit  of 
the  people,  and  the  remembrance  of  old  grievances  on  both  sides,  led  to 
new  altercations  with  the  Spaniards,  which  were  greatly  aggravated  by 
their  attacking  the  English  employed  in  cutting  logwood  in  the  bay  of 
Campeachy.  A  war  was  the  consequence,  and  France  became  the  ally 
of  Spain,  a.d.  1739.  A  small  force  being  sent  to  the  West  Indies,  under 
Admiral  Vernon,  the  important  city  of  Porto-Bello  was  captured,  which 
success  induced  the  English  to  send  out  other  armamuncs  upon  a  larger 
scale.  One  of  these,  under  Commodore  Anson,  sailed  t<>  (he  South  Seas, 
and  after  encountering  severe  storms,  by  which  his  force  was  much  dimi- 
nished, he  ravaged  the  coasts  of  Chili  and  Peru,  and  eventually  captured 
the  rich  galleon  annually  bound  from  Acapnlco  to  Manilla.  The  other 
expedition  was  directed  against  Carthagena,  but  it  proved  most  disastrous, 
owing  to  the  mismanagement  and  disputes  of  the  commanders,  and  to 
the  unhealthiness  of  the  climate,  not  less  than  15,000  troops  having  fallen 
"ictims  to  disease. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

rnOM    THE   ACCES       >N   OF     THE    EMPRESS     THERESA,    OF   AUSTRIA,   TO   THB 
PEACE    OF   AIX-LA-CHAPELLE. 

We  now  return  to  the  state  of  affairs  in  northern  Europe.  On  th'-  death 
of  the  emperor,  Charles  VI.,  his  daughter,  Maria  Theresa,  by  virtue  of  the 
pragmatic  sanction,  took  possession  of  his  hereditary  dominions,  but  she 
found  she  was  not  likely  to  retain  peaceable  possession  of  them.  The 
kin^Ts  of  Poland,  France  and  Spain,  exhibited  their  respective  claims  to 
the  whole  Austrian  succession,  and  Frederic  the  Great,  king  of  Prussia 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HI8T011Y. 


len 


who  nad  jtist  ascended  his  throne,  looking  only  to  the  aggrandizement  of 
his  dominions,  joined  her  enemies  in  the  liopo  of  obtaining  a  sliare  of  the 
spoil.  At  tlio  head  of  a  well-appointed  army  he  entered  Silesia,  tbok 
Breslau,  its  capital,  and  soon  conquered  the  province,  and  in  order  to  re- 
tain his  iicquisition  he  offered  to  support  Maria  Theresa  against  all  hrr 
enemies,  a.d.  1741.  This  proposal  was  steadily  and  indignantly  rejected 
by  the  princess,  though  she  was  well  aware  that  the  French  and  Bava- 
rians were  on  the  point  of  invading  her  territories,  for  the  expre>s  purpose 
of  elevating  Charles  Albert,  elector  of  Bavaria,  to  the  imperial  dignity. 
Under  the  command  of  the  prince,  assisted  by  the  marshals  Belleisle  and 
Broglio,  the  united  armies  entered  Upper  Austria,  took  Liniz  and  menaced 
Vienna.  Maria  Theresa  being  compelled  to  abandon  her  capital,  fled  to 
Hungary,  and  having  convened  the  states,  she  appeared  before  the  assem- 
bly with  her  infant  son  in  her  arms,  and  made  such  an  eloquent  appeal 
that  the  nobles  with  one  accord  swore  to  defend  her  cause  till  death. 
"  Moriamur  pro  bege  nostro  Maria  Tlieresa."  Nor  were  these  mere  idle 
words;  her  patriotic  subjects  rushed  to  arms,  and,  to  the  astonishment  of 
her  enemies  a  large  Hungarian  army,  under  the  command  of  Prince 
Charles  of  Lorraine,  marched  to  the  relief  of  Vienna,  and  tlio  elector  was 
obliged  to  raise  the  siege.  A  subsidy  was  at  the  s.\me  tune  voted  to  her 
by  the  British  parliament,  and  the  war  assumed  a  more  favourable  aspect. 
The  Austrians  took  Munich,  after  defeating  the  Bavarians  at  Meniberg, 
and  the  prince  of  Lorraine  expelled  the  Prussians  and  Saxons  from  Mo- 
ravia. The  elector,  however,  had  the  gratification,  on  retiring  into  Bo- 
hemia, to  take  the  city  of  Prague,  and  having  been  crowned  king  of  Bo- 
hemia, he  proceeded  to  Frankfort  where  he  was  chosen  emperor  under 
the  name  of  Charles  VIL,  a.d.  1742. 

The  king  of  Prussia  having  obtained  a  brdliant  victory  over  the  Aus- 
trians at  Czarslau,  took  immediate  advantage  of  his  position,  and  signed 
a  separate  treaty  with  the  queen  of  Hungary,  who  ceded  to  him  Lower 
Silesia  and  Glatz,  on  condition  of  his  remaining  neutral  during  her  contest 
with  the  other  powers.  The  conduct  of  Frederic  gave  just  cause  of  of- 
fence to  the  court  of  F'rance,  for,  thns  deprived  of  its  most  powerful  ally, 
the  French  army  must  have  been  inevitably  ruined  but  for  the  superior 
abilities  of  Marshal  Belleisle,  who  effected  one  of  the  most  masterly  re- 
treats through  an  enemy's  country  that  has  been  recorded  in  the  annals 
of  modern  warfare.  Louis  XV.  now  made  offers  of  peace  on  the  most 
equitable  terms,  but  the  queen,  elated  with  success,  haughtily  rejected 
them.  In  consequence  of  a  victory  gained  by  Prince  Charles  of  Lorraine, 
she  bad  also  soon  the  gratification  of  recovering  the  imperial  dominions 
from  her  rival  Charles  VIL,  who  took  refuge  in  Frankfort,  and  there  lived 
in  comparative  indigence  and  obscurity. 

England  had  now  become  a  principal  in  the  war,  and  the  united  British, 
Hanoverian  and  Austrian  forces  marched  A-om  Flanders  towards  Ger- 
many. The  ^ing  of  England  had  arrived  i.  the  allied  camp,  and  the 
French  commander,  Marshal  de  Noailles,  having  cut  off  their  supplies, 
the  destruction  of  the  British  and  Austrian  army  was  anticipated,  either 
by  being  cut  to  pieces  if  tliey  attempted  a  retreat,  or  by  their  surrender. 
They  commenced  their  retreat,  and,  fortunately  for  them,  the  good  gener- 
alship of  Noailles,  who  had  taken  possession  of  Dettingen  in  their  front, 
was  counteracted  by  the  rashness  of  his  nephew,  the  count  de  Grammont, 
who  advanced  into  a  small  plain  to  give  the  allies  battle ;  but  the  impetu- 
osity of  the  French  troops  was  met  by  the  resolute  and  steady  courage 
of  the  allies,  which  obtained  for  them  the  victory  of  Dettingen.  The 
marshal  retreated,  but  the  allies,  owing  to  the  irresolution  of  George  IL, 
obtained  no  farther  advantage. 

The  haughty  and  ambitious  conduct  of  the  empress,  v,rbo  avowed  her 
intention  of  keeping  Bavaria,  gave  great  offence  to  several  of  the  German 


71 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  UENEKAL  HISTORY. 


princes,  and  France,  Prussia,  and  the  elector  palatine,  united  to  check  tne 
growing  power  of  Austria.  The  French  arms  were  victorious  m  Flanders  •, 
the  Icing  of  Prussia,  who  had  invaded  Bohemia,  was  defeated  with  great 
losB,  and  forced  to  make  a  precipitate  retreat  into  Silesia,  a.d.  1744.  Not 
long  after  this  the  death  of  the  elector  of  Bavaria  removed  all  reasonable 
grounds  for  the  continuance  of  hostilities,  his  son  having  renounced  all 
claims  to  the  imperial  throne,  while  Maria  Theresa  agreed  to  put  him  in 
possession  of  his  hereditary  dominions.  r.,  •         . 

During  the  campaign  of  1745  the  Imperialists  lost  Parma,  Placentia  and 
Milan.  In  Flanders  a  large  French  army,  under  Marshal  Saxe,  invested 
Tournay,  while  the  allies,  under  the  duke  of  Cumberland,  though  greatly 
inferior  in  numbers,  mar.hed  to  its  relief.  Tlie  king  of  France  and  the 
dauphin  were  in  the  Ficach  camp,  and  their  troops  were  strongly  posted 
behind  the  village  of  Fontpnoy.  The  British  infantry  displayed  the  most 
undaunted  valour,  carrying  everything  before  them;  but  they  were  ill 
supported  by  their  Gefinaii  and  Dutch  allies,  whose  indecision  or  want  of 
courage  lost  the  day.  The  capture  of  Tournay,  Ghent,  Ostend,  and  Ou- 
denarde  by  the  French,  was  the  immediate  consequence  of  this  important 

victory.  ^  ,.  .       ,   , 

In  England  the  fatal  battle  of  I  ontenoy  disappointed  the  expectations 
of  the  people,  and  produced  great  irritation  in  the  public,  mind,  while  it  at 
the  same  time  revived  the  hopes  of  the  Jacobites,  who  thought  it  a  fortu- 
nate  time  to  attempt  the  restoration  of  the  Stuart  family.     Charles  Ed- 
ward, the  young  Pretender,  accordingly  landed  in  Scotland,  where  his 
manly  person  and  engaging  manners  won  the  hearts  of  the  Higlilanders, 
who  were  everywhere  ready  to  give  him  a  hearty  welcome  and  join  his 
standard.     Tlius  supported  by  the  Highland  chiefs  and  their  clans,  he 
took  possession  of  Dunkeld,  Perth,  Dundee,  and  Edinburgh.     Having  pro- 
claimed his  father,  he  marched  against  Sir  John  Cope,  the  royal  com- 
mander, over  whom  lie  obtained  a  victory  at  Preston  Pans.    After  receiv- 
ing some  reinforcements  he  crossed  the  English  border,  took  Carlisle  and 
Lancaster,  and  marched  boldly  on  to  Derby.    But  being  disappointed  in 
his  hopes  of  powerful  assistance  from  the  English  Jacobites,  he  took  the 
advice  of  the  majority  of  his  officers  and  retraced  his  steps.     On  his  re- 
turn to  Scotland  his  forces  were  considerably  augmented,  and,  receiving 
a  supply  of  money  from  Spain,  he  prepared  to  renew  the  contest  with 
spirit.    But  though  he  was  at  first  successful,  by  taking  the  town  of  Stir- 
lihg,  and  defeating  the  troops  sent  against  him  at  Falkirk,  the  approach  of 
a  larger  army,  commanded  by  the  duke  of  Cumberland,  soon  compelled 
the  prince  to  retreat  to  the  north.    On  reaching  Culloden  Moor,  nt;ar  In- 
verness, he  resolved  to  make  a  stand.     As  usual,  the  Highlanders  made  a 
furious  onset,  but  their  desperate  charge  was  received  by  a  close  and  gall- 
ing fii-e  of  musketry  and  artillery,  which  in  a  very  short  time  proved  de- 
cisive.   Giving  up  all  for  lost,  Charles  Edward  desired  his  partizans  to 
disperse,  and  became  himself  a  wretched  and  proscribed  ftigitive,  in  the 
hourly  dread  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  his  merciless  pursuers,  who,  after 
their  victory,  with  fiendlike  barbarity,  laid  waste  the  country  wiih  fire  and 
sword.    After  wandering  in  the  Highlands  for  several  months,  and  receiv- 
ing numerous  proofs  of  the  fidelity  of  his  unfortunate  adherents,  whom 
the  reward  of  £30,000  for  his  capture  did  not  tempt  to  betray  him,  he 
escaped  to  France,  a.d.  1746. 

In  the  mean  time  the  French  troops  under  Marshal  Saxe  were  overun 
ning  the  Netherlands ;  Brussels,  Antwerp,  and  Namur  were  captured ;  and 
the  sanguinary  battle  of  Roucoux  ended  the  campaign.  In  Italy,  the  arms 
of  France  and  her  allies  were  not  equally  successful ;  and  after  a  series  of 
battles  in  Germany  and  the  Low  Countries,  in  which  the  fortune  of  war  was 
pretty  equally  balanced,  conferences  were  opened  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  and 
preliminaries  of  peace  signed :  a.  u.  1748.     The  basis  of  this  treaty  was  the 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  QBNBRAL  HISTORY 


70 


551 


restitution  of  all  places  taken  during  the  war,  and  a  mutual  release  of  pris* 
oners.  Frederic  of  Prussia  was  guranteed  in  the  possession  of  Silesia  and 
Glatz  ;  the  Hanoverian  succession  to  the  English  throne  was  recognised 
and  tiie  cause  of  the  Pretender  abandoned. 

We  brouglit  our  notice  of  Russia  down  to  the  death  of  Peter  II.,  in  1730. 
When  that  occurred,  a  council  of  the  nobles  placed  on  the  throne  Anne 
Iwannowa,  daughter  of  Ivan,  Peter's  eldest  brother,  who  soon  broke 
through  the  restrictions  imposed  upon  her  at  her  accession.  She  restored 
to  Persia  the  provinces  that  had  been  conquered  by  Peter  the  Great ;  and 
terminated  a  glorious  war  againslTurkey,  in  conjuction  with  Austria,  by  sur- 
rendering every  place  taken  durfligthe  contest .  a.d.  1735.  She  is  accused 
of  being  attached  to  male  favourites,  the  principal  of  whom  was  a  man  of 
obscure  birth,  named  John  Biren,  who  was  elected  duke  of  Courland, 
and  who  governed  the  empire  with  all  the  despotism  of  an  autocrat.  Pre 
viously  to  her  death,  Anne  had  bequeathed  the  throne  to  the  infant  Ivan, 
and  appointed  Biren  regent ;  but  the  latter  enjoyed  his  high  dignity  only 
twenty-two  days,  when  he  was  arrested  and  sent  into  exile  in  Siberia. 
Russia  has  ever  been  noted  for  cabals,  intrigues,  and  revolutions.  The  sol- 
diery had  been  induced  to  espouse  the  cause  of  Elizabeth,  daughter  of 
Peter  the  great.  Anne  was  arrested  and  imprisoned ;  the  infant  emperor 
was  confined  in  the  fortress  of  Schusselburg ;  and  Elizabeth  was  immedi- 
ately proclaimed  empress  of  all  the  Rnssias.  This  princess  concluded  an 
advantageous  peace  with  Sweden ;  and  lent  her  powerful  assistance  to 
Maria  Theresa,  in  her  war  with  the  king  of  Prussia,  for  whom  Elizabeth 
felt  a  violent  personal  enmity. 


^hom                   i 

Q,  he                  ; 

;run                   - 

;  and                   '■ 

arms  ^ 
esof                «■ 

'  ^^^                ^M 

,  and                 H 

s  the                ■ 

CHAPTER  XX. 

PROGRESS   OF  »!:VENTS    DURING  THE  SEVEN  YEARS'  WAR    IN    EUROI'K,     AMER- 
ICA, AND  THE    EAST  INDIES. 

During  the  period  we  have  been  describing,  in  which  the  west  and  the 
north  of  Europe  resounded  with  the  cries  of  distress  or  the  shouts  of  vic- 
tory, the  throne  of  Hindostan  was  filled  by  Mahmoud  Shah,  a  voluptuous 
prince ;  who,  in  order  to  avoid  becoming  the  object  of  personal  hatred, 
confided  all  public  business  to  the  nobles  and  his  ministers  :  these  officers 
offended  or  neglected  the  subahdar  of  theDeccan,  who  invited  Nadir  Shah 
to  invade  the  East  Indies.  In  1738  the  Persian  warrior  marched  into  that 
country  at  the  head  of  an  army  inured  to  war  and  greedy  of  plunder,  and 
defeated  with  ease  the  innumerable  but  disorderly  troops  of  the  mogul. 
The  crown  and  sceptre  of  Mahmoud  lay  at  the  feet  of  his  conqueror. 
Delhi,  his  capital,  was  taken ;  every  individual  whoseappearance  rendered 
it  probable  thai  he  was  acquainted  with  concealed  treasures,  was  subjected 
to  the  most  horrid  tortures ;  and  it  is  asserted  that  100,000  persons  were 
mai .stcred  in  one  day  !  He  plundered  the  country  of  upwards  of  thirty 
millions  sterling,  and  extended  the  bounds  of  his  empire  to  the  banks 
of  the  Indus.  After  committing  the  most  revolting  acts  of  cruelty,  he 
was  assassinated  by  his  nwn  officers,  who  placed  his  nephew,  Adil  Sliah, 
on  the  vacant  throne  ;  a.  v  1747.  We  will  now  take  a  view  of  European 
interests  in  that  distant  region. 

Among  other  stipulations  in  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  it  was  agreed 
that  the  English  settlement  of  Madras,  which  during  the  war  of  the  suc- 
cession had  been  taken  from  thd  English  by  the  French,  should  be  restor- 
ed. Diipleix,  the  French  governoi  of  Pondicherry.  had  long  sought  an 
opportunity  for  adding  to  the  dominions  of  his  coun'rymenin  India;  and 
the  continual  disputes  of  the  native  princes  favoured  his  schemes,  inas- 
much as  the  interference  of  the  French  was  generally  solicited  by  one  o^ 
the  parties,  who  remunerated  their  European  allies  by  fresh  concessions 


76 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


of  territory  on  everv  fifh  occasion.  This  naturally  roused  the  jealousy 
of  their  Finglish  v'.al- ,  who  adopted  a  similar  line  of  policy;  so  that 
whenever  there  was  a  nature  between  the  native  princes,  they  each  found 
allies  in  the  European  si  itlers.  A  fierce  contention  arose  for  the  nabob- 
ship  of  (lie  Carnatic.  Tiio  French  supported  the  claims  ofChunda  Sahib; 
the  English  being  applied  to  by  Mohammed  Ali,  son  of  the  late  nabob  of 
Arcot,  esnouaed  his  cause  :  a.  d.  1751.  It  was  at  this  time  that  Mr.  Clive 
.  (afterwards  lord  Clive)  appeared  in  the  capacity  of  a  military  leader. 
He  had  been  originally  in  the  civil  service  of  the  East  India  Couip.ii.iy; 
but  he  nov.  exchanged  tfir  pen  for  the  sword,  and  soon  iirovv:d  htinatlf 
more  than  a  match  for. .11  the  talents  which  were  brougl.l,  i.ito  f  I'vaqaiiicit 
him.  With  a  small  for.  o  he  took  Arcot ;  and  he  afterw.trcis  sic  essfully 
defended  it  against  Chumiih  Sahib,  who  besieged  it  with  a  niimro.is  army. 
Many  brilliant  vh  lories  followed  on  the  sideofthr  English  iud  thei-  illic'^ 
The  Rajah  of  Tanjore,  and  other  independent  chiefs  joiiu  d  theui.  Tlio 
French  lost  most  of  their  acquisitions :  MjhamiHed  All's  ilaim  was  ac- 
knowledged;  and  a  treaty  was  entered  into  betwec;.  the  Fr.r,ich  and  En- 
glish, that  neither  party  sho\ii.!  in  futur..'  iiiterfert!  with  the  affairs  of  the 
native  princes.     Time  proved  how  usckrs  was  such  a  stipulation. 

The  peace  of  Aix-la-Chapeile  was  not  of  lonof  duration.  IVance  and 
England  were  still  at  war  in  the  East  indies,  and  their  ililferences  in  re- 
spect to  the  boundaries  of  their  rrspective  colonifs  ia  iVortl:  America  still 
remained  for  adjustment.  Another  war  in  Europe  was  theinevitaDk  ,  '^a- 
sequence  ;  and  fron!  the  term  of  its  duration  it  obtained  the  name  of  '  t  le 
seven  y  .irs''  war."  England  united  with  Piussia  ;  nni  an  allianc  i;  between 
the  em  e»r,r,  Fnince,  Russi;!,  Sweden,  and  Saxony,  was  jmmediaiely  con- 
cluded; k.  a.  1'/.  .;.  Tile  commencement  of  the  campaign  had  a  discoura- 
ging aspect  !br  the  kino  of  Prussia;  the  Russians  were  advancing  through 
Litiiuania,  r  :i','odish  army  occupied  his  attention  in  Pomerania,  and  the 
united  forf^cso'  the  French  and  Imperialists  were  advancing  through  Ger- 
man]/. With  his  characteristic  boldness,  Frederic  antiiiipated  the  attack 
of  his  ninnerous  foes,  and  invaded  both  Saxony  and  Bohemia;  making 
himself  master  of  Dresden,  routing  the  Austrians  at  Lowesitz,  and  com- 
pelling 17,000  Saxons  to  lay  down  their  ams  at  Parma. 

In  the  ensiling  campaign  the  marshal  d'Estrees  crossed  the  Rhine,  with 
60,000  men,  to  invade  Hanover.    The  Hanoverians  and  Hessians,  under 
the  command  of  the  duke  of  Cumberland,  were  driven  out,  and  the  French 
became  masters  of  the  electorate.     Unawed  by  the  formidable  prepara- 
tions of  his  enemies,  Frederic  again  assumed  the  offensive,  and  penetrated 
into  Bohemia;  but  a  victory  obtained  at  Kolin,  by  the  Austrian  general 
Daun,  compelled  him  to  retreat  hastily  into  his  dominions,  which  were  now 
threatened  in  every  direction.    The  French  had  rapidly  advanced  upon 
Magdeburg ;  the  victorious  Russians  threatened  the  north  of  Sile-sia,  while 
the  Austrians  had   attacked  tne  south  and  even  penetrated  to  Berlin, 
where  they  levied  heavy  contributions  ;  and  the  prince  of  Brunswick  Be- 
vern  had  delivered  up  Breslau.    In  this  emergency,  Frederic  could  scarce- 
ly expect  to  3f  luire  any  further  fame;  but,  with  his  accustomed  energy, 
he  hasteneu  to  Dresden,  assembled  an  army,  and  with  half  the  numberof 
his  French  and  G.-^'man  opponents,  gave  them  battle  at  the  village  of  Ros- 
bach,  and  obtained  over  them  a  most  brilliant  victory.    His  loss  amount- 
ed to  only  five  hundred  men,  while  that  of  the  enemy  was  nine  thousand, 
in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners.     In  four  weeks  after  he  obtained  the 
far  more  important  victory  of  Lissa,  and  recovered  Breslau. 

During  the  campaign  of  1758,  the  Prussian  monarch  recovered  Schweid- 
nitz,and  invested  Olmutz.  In  the  meantime  Prince  Ferdinand  of  Bruns- 
wick crossed  the  Rhine,  defeated  the  French  at  Crevelt,  and  penetrated  to 
the  very  gates  of  Louvain  in  Brabant.  No  commander,  perliaps  ever  en- 
dured the  vicissitudes  of  fortune  in  more  rapid  successioi'  I'lan  did  Fred 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


77 


eric  in  this  campiiign ;  but  though  he  was  sevoral  times  in  the  most  immi- 
nent peril,  he  at  leiiKlli  compeHed  his  formidable  rival,  Marshal  Daun,  to 
raise  the  sieges  of  Dresden  and  Leipsic.and  to  retire  into  Uohemia,  while 
Frederic  himself  entered  the  former  city  in  triumph. 

It  is  in  crises  like  tliese  that  the  destiny  of  states  is  seen  to  depend  less 
upon  the  extent  of  their  power,  than  upon  the  qualification  of  certain  emi- 
nent individuals,  who  possess  the  talent  of  employing  and  increasing 
their  resources,  and  of  animating  national  energies.  This  was  in  an  es- 
pecial degree  the  case  of  Frederic  the  (Jrcat.  He  was  engaged  witii  tlie 
•  powerful  and  well-disciplined  armies  of  Austria;  with  the  trench,  whose 
tactics  and  impetuosity  were  undisputed;  with  the  immovable  persever- 
ance of  the  Russians  ;  with  the  veterans  of  Sweden,  and  with  the  admira- 
>ly  organized  forces  of  the  empire.  In  numerical  strength  they  far  more 
han trebled  the  Prussians;  yet  he  not  only  kept  them  constantly  on  the 
alert,  but  frustrated  their  combined  attacks,  and  often  defeated  them  with 
great  loss. 

At  the  opening  of  the  next  campaign  f  1759)the  fortune  of  war  was  on  the 
side  of  the  Prussians.  They  destroyed  the  Russian  magazines  in  Poland, 
levied  contributions  in  Bohemia,  and  kept  the  Imperialists  in  check. 
Prince  Ferdinand,  in  order  to  proteci  Hanover,  found  it  necessary  to 
give  the  French  battle  at  Minden,  where  success  crowned  his  efforts, 
and  had  it  not  been  for  the  unaccountable  conduct  of  Lord  George  Sack- 
vllle,  who  commanded  the  cavalry,  and  disobeyed  or  misunderstood  the 
order  to  charge  the  discomfiied  French,  a  victory  as  glorious  and  com- 
plete as  that  of  Blenheim  would  in  alf  probability,  have  been  the  result. 
A  decided  reverse  soon  succeeded ;  the  combined  Austrian  and  Russian 
army  of  80,000  men  attacked  the  Prussians  at  Cunersdorf,  and  after  a 
most  sanguinary  conflict  the  latter  was  defeated.  Frederic  soon  retrieved 
this  disaster,  and  the  war  continued  to  proceed  with  dubious  advantage  ; 
but  the  English  grew  tired  of  this  interminable  kind  of  warfare,  and  turned 
their  attention  from  the  actions  of  their  intrepid  ally  to  matters  aflfecting 
their  colonial  interests  in  the  East  and  West  Indies,  and  in  America. 

The  bold  and  skilful  operations  of  Clive  in  the  East  Indies  attracted 
great  notice.  Having  remstated  the  nabob  of  Arcot,  his  next  great  ex- 
ploit was  the  recapture  of  Calcutta,  which  had  been  taken  by  the  nabob  of 
Bengal.  This  was  followed  by  the  unexampled  victory  of  Plassy,  and 
the  final  establslmient  of  the  British  in  northern  India.  In  America,  Admi- 
ral Bocaswen  burned  the  enemy's  ships  in  the  harbour  of  Louisburg,  and 
compelled  the  town  to  surrender;  the  island  of  St.  John  and  Cape  Breton 
was  taken  by  General  Amherst ;  and  Brigadier  Forbes  captured  fort  Du 
Quesne,  while  the  Frencli  settlements  ontlie  African  coast  were  reduced. 
The  island  of  Gaudaloupe,  in  the  West  Indies,  was  also  taken  by  the 
English.  Crown  Point  and  Tioonderoga  were  conquered  by  General  Am- 
herst, and  Sir  William  Johnson  gained  possession  of  the  important  for- 
tress of  Niagara.  The  French,  thus  attacked  on  every  side,  were  unable 
to  withstand  the  power  and  enthusiasm  of  their  enemies :  and  General 
Wolfe,  who  was  to  have  been  assisted  in  his  attack  on  Quebec  by  Amherst, 
finding  that  the  latter  general  was  unable  to  form  a  junction  with  him,  re- 
solved to  attempt  the  arduous  and  hazardous  enterprise  alone.  With 
this  view  he  landed  his  troops  at  night  under  the  heights  of  Abraham, 
and  led  them  up  the  steep  and  precipitous  ascent;  so  that  when  the  mor- 
ning dawned,  the  French  commander,  the  Marquis  de  Montcalm,  to  his 
astonishment,  saw  the  English  occupying  a  position  which  had  before  been 
deemed  inaccessible.  To  save  the  city  a  battle  was  now  inevitable  ; 
both  generals  p\v\r)ared  with  ard^nr  for  the  conflict.  Just  as  the  scale  of 
victory  was  begnuiing  to  turn  in  favour  of  the  British,  the  heroic  Wolfe  fell, 
mortally  wounc'ed.  With  redoubled  energy  his  gallant  troops  fought  on, 
till  at  length  t'lc  French  fled  in  disorder;  and,  when  the  intelligence  wa 


78 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OP  QSNERAL  H18T0aY. 


brought  to  the  dying  hero,  he  raised  his  head,  and  with  his  last  breatn, 
faintly  uttered,  "  I  die  happy ;"  nor  was  the  death  of  Montcalm  less  noble 
or  soldierlike.  He  had  been  mortally  wounded  ;  and  he  was  no  sooner 
apprised  of  his  danger  than  he  exclaimed,  "so  much  tiie  better:  I  shall 
not  live  to  witness  the  surrender  of  Quebec."  The  complete  subjugation 
of  the  Canadas  quickly  followed.  And,  amidst  the  exploits  of  his  army 
and  navy,  George  II.  expired  suddenly  at  Kensington,  in  the  34th  year  of 
his  reign,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  grandson,  George  III.,  a.  d.  1760. 

On  the  European  continent  the  last  campaigns  were  carried  on  with  less 
spirit  than  before;   both  sides  were  exhausted  by  their  previous  efforts, 
and  the  party  which  was  desirous  of  peace  endeavoured  to  avert  such  oc- 
currences as  might  revive  the  hopes  of  the  enemy.     A  family  compact 
was  now  concluded  between  the  courts  of  Versailles  and  Madrid  ;  and  see- 
ing no  chance  of  gaining  any  colonial  advantages  over  Britian  while  its 
navy  rode  triumphant  on  the  ocean,  they  resolved  to  try  Jhvir  united 
strength  in  attempting  the  subjugation  of  its  ancient  ally,  Portugal.    That 
country  was  defended  more  by  its  natural  advantages  than  by  its  military 
force;  liie  progress  of  the  Spaniards  being  retarded  by  tlie  miserable  con- 
dition of  the  roads,  and  by  the  neglect  of  all  provision  for  their  sustenance. 
An  English  force  of  8000  men,  together  with  a  large  supply  of  arms  and 
ammunition,  was  sent  to  assist  the  Portuguese,  and  though  several  towns 
at  first  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards,  the  Britisii  and  native  troops 
displayed  a  decided  superiority  throughout  the  campaign,  and  compelled 
them  to  evacuate  the  kingdom  with  considerable  loss.     In  Germany,  Prince 
Ferdinand  and  ihe  marquis  of  Granby  not  only  protected  Hanover,  but  re- 
covered the  greater  part  of  Hesse.     At  the  same  time  Frederic  experienced 
an  unexpected  stroke  of  good  fortune.    The  emprestj  Elizabetii  of  Russia 
died,  and  Peter  III.,  who  had  long  admired  the  heroic  king,  and  who  had 
never  forgotten  that  the  influence  of  Frederic  had  especially  contributed 
to  the  foundation  of  his  hopes  and  greatness,  had  no  sooner  ascended  the 
throne  tiian  he  made  peace  with  him,  and  restored  all  the  conquests  of 
the  Russians.     From  that  time  the  king  was  not  only  enabled  to  concen- 
trate his  whole  force  against  tiie  Austrians,  but  was  supported  by  Peter, 
who  concluded  an  alliance  with  him,  and  despatched  to  his  aid  a  corps  of 
20,000  men.    The  reign  of  Peter  III.,  was,  however,  of  very  brief  dura- 
tion ;  and  Catharine  II.,  although  she  confirmed  the  peace,  recalled  the 
auxiliary  Russians  from  the  Prussian  army. 

Meanwhile  the  English  were  extending  their  conquests  in  the  West  In- 
dies. They  took  Havannah  and  Manilla  from  the  Spaniards,  with  Marti- 
nique, St.  Lucie,  Grenada,  and  St.  Vincent,  from  the  French.  Tired  of  a 
war  which  threatened  the  whole  of  their  colonies  with  ruin,  the  cabinets 
of  France  and  Spain  were  glad  to  find  that  the  British  minister  was  equal- 
ly anxious  to  bring  the  war  to  a  close.  Peace,  which  was  r  jw  the  uni- 
versal object  of  desire  io  all  parties,  was  concluded  at  Versailles,  on  the 
10th  of  February,  1763,  between  Great  Britain,  France,  and  Spain,  and  five 
days  later,  at  Hubertsburg  in  Saxony,  between  Austria  and  Prussia.  This 
memorable  contest,  which  had  required  such  an  extraordinary  expendi- 
ture of  blood  and  treasure— a  war  in  which  the  half  of  Europe  had  been  in 
arms  against  England  and  Prussia— was  concluded  with  scarcely  any  al- 
teration in  the  territorial  arrangements  of  Germany,  and  without  produ- 
cing any  great  or  lasting  benefit  to  either  of  the  belligerants,  so  far,  at  least 
as  their  interests  in  Europe  were  concerned.  But  in  the  East  and  West 
Indies,  as  well  as  in  America,  it  had  added  greatly  to  the  colonial  posses- 
sions of  Great  Britian. 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OP  OENEKAL  HISTORY 


79 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

fROM  THE  CONCLUSION  OK  THE  SEVEN  YKARb'  WAR  TO  THE    riNAL    PARTITION   Of 

POLAND. 

The  "  seven  years'  war,"  the  principal  features  of  which  we  have  giv- 
?n,  left  most  '«f  the  contending  powers  in  a  str.te  of  gr(!at  exhaustion  ;  but 
.loiie  iiad  been  more  affected  by  it  than  France.  While  that  cotintry,  how- 
ever, was  declining,  Russia,  under  the  Emprews  Cnlliarine  II. ,  was  rapidly 
acquiring  a  preponderating  influence  among  the  nations  of  Europe;  and 
no  opportunity  of  adding  to  her  already  e.xtensive  territories  were  ever 
neglected.  On  the  death  of  Augustus  III.,  king  of  Poland,  the  diet  assem- 
bled at  Warsaw  to  choose  a  successor.  Catharine  espoused  the  cause  of 
Stanislaus  Poniatowsky ;  and  as  the  discussions  were  not  conducted  with 
the  temper  which  ought  to  characterize  deliberative  assemblies,  the  pru- 
dent empress,  as  a  friend  and  neighbour,  sent  a  body  of  troops  thither  to 
keep  the  peace.  This  had  the  desired  effect,  and  Stanislaus  ascended  the 
throne.  Hut  Poland  had  long  been  agitated  by  disputes,  both  religious 
and  political,  and  the  new  sovereign  was  unable  to  control  the  elements 
of  discord  by  which  he  was  surrounded.  The  animosity  which  existed 
between  the  Catholics  and  the  Dissidents,  as  the  dissenting  sects  were 
called,  had  risen  to  a  height  incompatible  with  the  safety  of  the  kingdom. 
The  Dissidents,  who  had  been  much  oppressed  by  the  Catholics,  claimed 
an  equality  of  rights,  which  being  refused,  the^  appealed  to  foreign  pow- 
ers for  protection  ;  those  of  the  Greek  churjn  to  the  empress  of  Russia, 
and  the  Lutherans  to  the  kings  of  Pruosia  and  Denmark.  A  civil  war 
now  arose  in  all  its  horrors,  and  its  miseries  were  groatly  aggravated  by 
the  insolence  and  brutality  of  the  Rnssian  troops  wiiich  Catharine  had 
sent  to  the  aid  of  the  Dissidents.  The  Catholic  nobles  formed  a  confede- 
racy for  the  maintenance  of  their  privileges  and  their  religion  ;  but  it  was 
useless  to  contend  against  the  overwhelming  forces  brought  against  tliem. 
Cracow,  where  they  for  a  long  time  held  out  against  famine  and  pesti- 
lence, was  at  length  taken  by  storm,  and  the  unhappy  fugitives  were  pur- 
sued beyond  the  Turkish  frontiers. 

The  protection  which  the  confederates  received  in  Turkey,  and  .T^utual 
complaints  concerning  the  incursions  of  the  wandering  hordes  of  Tarnirs 
and  Cossacks,  had,  some  years  before,  furnished  a  pretence  for  war  be- 
tween the  Porte  and  the  Russians.  It  was  impossible  that  Mustapha  III. 
could  any  longer  contemplate  with  indifference  the  transactions  which 
took  place  in  Poland ;  not  only  was  the  security  of  his  northern  provinces 
endangered,  but  he  felt  justly  indignani  st  the  violation  of  his  dominions. 
He  accordingly  remonstrated  with  the  impress  ;  and  she  speciously  re- 
plied, that  having  been  requested  to  send  a  few  t.'oops  to  the  assistauce 
of  her  unhappy  neighbour,  in  order  to  quell  soKib  internal  commotions, 
she  could  not  refuse.  But  a  body  of  Russians  having  afterwards  burned 
the  Turkish  town  of  Balta,  and  put  all  its  inhabitants  to  death,  war  was 
declared,  and  the  European  and  Asiatic  dominions  of  the  Porte  summoned 
to  arms.  While  all  the  officers  who  were  to  compose  the  suite  of  the 
grand  vizier  were  preparing  at  Constantinople  for  their  departure,  the  mul- 
tifarious hordes  of  militia  assembled  themselves  out  of  Asia,  and  covered 
the  Bosphorus  and  Hellespont  with  numerous  transports.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  different  nations  composing  the  extensive  empire  of  the  autocrat 
of  all  the  Russias,  most  of  whom  were  but  a  few  degrees  removed  from 
barbarism,  put  themselves  in  motion,  and  a  body  of  troops,  selected  from 
dniodg  the  corps  dispersed  over  Poland,  was  assembled  on  the  side  of  the 
Ukraine.  The  capitation  tax  of  the  Russian  empire  was  raised,  and  a  war 
contribution  of  20  per  cent,  levied  on  all  salaries.     Large  armies  on  both 


80 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  Of  OENERAL  H18T0RY. 


nidfj  advanced  :igaiiist  the  Daiiubo  ;  and  in  ilic  spring  of  17fi9  thoTurkisft 
standard  was  diHplayud  on  the  fronti;)r»  of  Russia,  where  the  Ottoman 
troops  coniinittfid  frightful  ravages,  and  drove  tho  enemy  across  the  Dnoig- 
ter ;  they,  however,  sudered  a  severe  defeat  at  Choczim,  and  a  more  de- 
cisive hlow  was  soon  after  struck  hy  tiie  Hussians,  who  twice  defeated  the 
Turkish  fleet,  and  at  length  burnt  fifteen  of  their  ships  of  the  line  in  the 
bay  of  Chesine.  Meantime,  the  Russian  huid  forces  were  equally  success- 
ful;  the  grand  Ottoman  army  was  totally  overthrown  near  the  Pruth.aud 
the  ca|iture  of  IJeniJer,  Ismail,  and  other  places,  (juickly  followed. 

Greece,  long  iiccustoincd  to  subjection,  was  but  ill-provided  with  troops, 
and  the  inhabitants  pur-'iv.'d  their  own  affairs  unmolested;  but  when  they 
received  intellij-ii  e  of  t.  e  ent(!rprise  of  the  Russians— a  Christian  peo- 
ple of  tho  (irerlc  church— to  deliver  the  Greeks  from  the  yoke  of  the  bar 
oarians,  tho  love  of  liberty  was  rekindled  in  many  of  their  hearts.  All 
Laconia,  tho  plains  of  Argos,  Arcadia,  and  a  part  of  Achaia,  rose  in  insur- 
rection, aad  spared  none  of  their  former  rulers.  The  Turks,  in  the  mean- 
time, crossed  the  isthmus  in  order  to  relieve  Patra,  and  the  pasha  of  Bos- 
nia, V,  ;th  30,000  men,  advanced  with  liMIe  resistance  into  the  ancient  M?s- 
sene  at  Mndon  tho  Greeks  were  defeat 'd  with  great  loss,  and  it  was  uvi- 
den.  that  their  hope  of  regaining  fhor  fre  uom  was  a  delusive  one.  At 
the  end  of  the  campaign  the  plague  broke  out  at  Yassy,  and  spread  to 
Moscow,  v/iiere  it  carried  off  00,000  persons,  at  the  rate  of  nearly  1000 
victims  daily. 

The  Crimea  was  seized  by  the  Russians,  and  the  grand  vizier  was  forced 
to  retreat  into  Hajnms ;  the  Janizaries  rose,  put  their  aga  to  death,  and  set 
lire  to  their  (;amp.  The  Porte  in  the  meantime  was  delivered  from  Ali  Bey, 
the  Egyptian  pasha,  who  fell  in  battle  again.st  his  brother-in-law,  Moham- 
med. Europe  had  taken  a  more  lively  interest  in  his  adventure-s,  because 
he  appeared  to  be  elevated  ab(>"e  national  prejudices;  but  his  fault  con- 
sisted in  his  manifesting  his  contempt  for  those  errors  too  early,  and  in 
00  decidi.:l  a  manner.  The  Russians  at  length  crossed  the  Danube,  and 
the  Janizaries  gave  way.  Tiiey  were  twice  compelled  to  abandon  the 
siege  01  rfilislria,  :jid  they  lost  a  great  part  of  their  artillery  near  Varna. 
But  a  reverse  of  fortune  was  nigh;  for  not  long  after,  Hassan  Piislia,  a 
man  of  jjreat  courage  and  intelligence,  by  birth  a  Persian,  anr'  who  was 
high  in  the  favour  of  the  sultan,  swore  that  not  a  Russian  should  pass  the 
autumnal  equinox  on  the  Turkish  side  of  the  Danube — and  he  faithfully 
kept  his  word. 

Mustapha  III.  died  in  1774,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  brother,  Abd-ul- 
Hamed.  But  neither  the  sultan  nor  his  people  appeared  inclined  to  pros- 
ecute the  war.  About  the  same  time,  Pugatcheff,  the  Cossack,  at  the 
head  of  many  warlike  hordes,  broke  into  open  rebellion ;  and  this  con- 
vinced Catharine  that  peace  was  not  less  des'rable  for  Russia  than  for 
the  Porte.  A  treaty  was  accordingly  entered  into,  by  which  the  latter 
ceded  a  considerable  portion  of  territory  to  the  empress,  together  with 
a  right  to  the  free  navigation  of  the  Black  Sea. 

We  now  reiurn  to  notice  the  mt  hmcholy  fate  of  Poland.  An  attempt 
oi\  the  personal  liberty  of  Stanislaus  having  been  made  by  the  turbulent 
and  bigoted  nobles,  it  served  as  a  pretext  for  the  empress  of  Russia  first 
to  send  an  army  into  the  country,  and  afterwards,  in  conjunction  with 
Prussia  and  Austria,  to  plan  its  disnembeiment.  Each  party  to  the  com- 
pact had  some  old  pretended  claims  to  urge  in  behalf  of  the  robbery,  and 
as  the  other  nations  of  Europe  were  not  in  a  condition  to  wage  war  against 
the  powerful  trio,  their  meiiiatorial  interference  would  have  been  ineffec- 
tual. A  Diet  was  called  to  give  a  colour  to  the  tr.uisaction,  and  a  major- 
ity of  votes  being  secured,  the  armies  of  the  spoilers  severally  took  pos- 
se.ssion  of  the  districts  which  i.,'  '  been  previously  parcelled  out ;  and  lit- 
tle else  remained  of  Poland— indcpendejit  Poland— but  its  language  ana 
its  name:  a.  d.  1773. 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  OENEHAL  HISTOllV. 


81 


CMA      "Kit  XXII. 

mow  THl  COMMENCIMINT  OK  Tllf:   AMERirAN  WAR,  TO  THK  BECOONtriON  Of 
TIIK  INnePENOENCK  OF  TUB  UNITED  8TATE8- 

To  ilcscribe,  witli  chronological  order,  even  a  limited  portion  of  the 
momeiitoua  events  of  the  period  to  whicii  we  are  now  appronching,  would 
be  imposHihle  in  an  outline  sketch  of  general  history.  We  shall  there- 
fore content  ourselves  with  merely  alluding  to  some  of  the  leading  fea- 
tures which  present  themselves,  atul  then  enter  ujHin  our  series  of  sepa- 
rate histories. 

The  first  great  event,  then,  wliich  in  this  place  demands  our  attention, 
IS  the  American  war.  Our  notice  of  it,  ns  a  matter  of  course,  will  be 
most  brief  and  cursory.  Among  the  earliest  settlers  in  North  America, 
were  many  who  emigrated  from  (Jrcat  Britain  on  account  of  civil  or  re- 
ligious persecution— men,  who,  being  of  republican  principles,  and  jeal- 
ous of  the  smallest  encroachments  of  their  rights,  naturally  instilled  those 
princi|)les  into  the  minds  of  their  children,  and  thus  laid  the  foundation  of 
that  spirit  of  resistance  to  arbitrary  acts  of  power,  which  kindled  the 
flames  of  war  between  the  mother  country  and  the  colonies,  and  ended  in 
the  establishment  of  a  powerful  republic.  The  constitution  of  the  Amer- 
ican colonies  bore  the  original  impress  of  liberty.  riiuo»-  the  protection 
of  Great  Hritam,  North  America  stood  in  fear  of  no  foreign  enemy,  and 
the  consciousness  of  her  native  strength  was  already  too  great  to  permit 
her  to  feel  much  apprehension  even  of  her  mother  country.  Religion 
was  everywhere  free  from  restraint,  agriculture  was  held  in  honour,  and 
peace  and  order  were  protected  against  the  attempts  of  parties,  and  wild 
and  lawless  men.  The  people,  like  the  country  they  inhabited,  appeared 
to  be  in  the  full  vigour  of  youth ;  ardent,  independent,  and  capable  of 
astonishiM<r  exertions  when  aroused  by  the  stimulus  of  the  passions. 

In  17()")  a  stamp-duty  on  various  articles  was  imposed  by  the  British 
parliament  on  the  colonists,  but  on  their  remonstrating,  the  act  was  soon 
after  repealed.  Subsequently  a  duty  was  laid  on  tea ;  this  was  resisted, 
and  at  Boston  the  tea  was  thrown  into  the  sea.  Coercive  measures  were 
then  tried,  and  in  1775  a  civil  war  began.  In  the  following  year  the 
Americans  issued  their  Declaration  of  Independence.  Many  battles  were 
fou'iiit,  but  nothing  very  decisive  took  place  till  the  year  1777,  when  Gen. 
Burjioyne,  the  British  commander,  was  surrounded  at  Saratoga,  and  com- 
pelli  il  to  surrender,  with  about  4000  men. 

VV  ith  a  blind  infatuation,  little  dreaming  of  the  danger  of  espousing 
principles  professedly  republican,  and  with  no  other  view,  indeed,  than 
that  of  huiiibliiig  a  powerful  neighbour,  France  now  entered  the  lists  as 
the  ally  of  the  Americans,  and  Spain  no  less  blindly  followed  the  exam- 
ple. But  I'liigland  had  augmented  the  number  of  her  troops,  and  placed 
them  under  the  command  of  lords  Cornwallis  and  Rawdon,  who  harassed 
the  Americans,  under  Washington,  while  Admiral  Rodney  displayed  his 
su^siiority  in  a  naval  engagement  with  the  Spaniards.  Biit  it  was  not 
merely  the  hostility  of  the  French  and  Spaniards  that  the  Kn(jli«h  had  to 
cope  with;  the  jealousy  of  the  continental  powers  displayed  irself  by 
their  entering  into  an  armed  neutrality,  the  avowed  object  of  which  was 
to  resist  the  right  of  search  which  England's  long-establisiied  naval  supe- 
riority had  taught  her  to  exercise  as  a  right  over  the  vessels  of  other  na- 
tion: Holland  was  now  added  to  the  list  of  enemies,  the  faithless  con- 
duct of  that  state  having  induced  the  British  government  to  declare  war 
against  it,  and  many  of  the  Dutch  possessions  in  South  America  and  the 
West  Indies  were  taken  from  them.  Meantime  the  war  in  America,  as 
well  a^  on  its  coasts,  was  carried  on  with  increased  vigour,  the  French 


93 


OUTLINE  8KRTCII  OF  OKNKIIAL  HISTORY. 


•xertinj  ihftmiclvcH  not  n»  mere  partisans  in  the  cause,  but  «•  p  an'  paia 
It  was  evident  thiit,  although  the  war  .night  be  long  protracted,  •.:,'>  rccn?. 
cry  of  the  North  American  colonics  was  not  likely  to  be  aci  .i..r,hsh«d, 
and  as  the  KngUsh  had  bcnn  several  times  out-gnieralicd,  and  »h«  last 
loss  on  their  part  consisted  of  COOO  men  at  Yorktown,  under  Cornwalhs. 
who  liad  been  compelled  to  surrender  to  a  powerful  combined  French  md 
American  army  commanded  by  Washington,  Kngland  began  to  think 
seriously  of  making  up  the  quarrel  with  her  rebellious  sons. 

Durinjf  the  latter  part  of  the  war,  Admiral  Rodney  gave  the  French 
fleet,  commanded  by  Count  de  Grasse,  a  memorable  defeat  in  the  West 
Indies,  while  fJeneral  KUiot  showed  the  French  and  Spaniards  how  futile 
were  their  attempts  against  (Tibraltar.  In  short,  great  as  were  the  dis- 
advantages with  which  the  English  had  to  contend,  the  energies  and  re- 
sources  of  the  nation  were  still  equal  to  the  task  of  successfully  coping 
with  its  enemies  in  Kurope,  while  in  the  vast  empire  of  British  India 
fresh  laurels  were  continually  gathered,  and  the  French  were  there  dis- 
possessed of  all  their  settlements. 

On  the  20th  of  January,  1783,  the  independence  of  the  United  States 
was  formally  acknowledged  by  England,  and  George  Washington,  the 
man  who  had  led  the  armies  and  directed  the  councils  of  America,  wan 
chosen  president. 


CH.^PTER  XXIII. 

raOM  THE  CO.MMENCEMGNT  OF  THE  rRRNCH   REVOLUTION,  TO  THE  DEATH  Of 

ROBESPIERRE. 

The  most  eventful  period  of  modem  historv  now  bursts  upon  our  view 
In  the  course  of  the  ages  that  have  passed  successively  before  us,  we 
have  witnessed  sudden  revolutions,  long  and  sanguinary  contests,  and 
the  transfer  of  some  province  or  city  from  one  sovereign  to  another  at 
the  termination  of  a  war.  These  have  been  ordinary  events.  We  have 
also  marked  the  gradual  rise  and  fall  of  empires,  the  subjugation  of  king- 
doms, and  the  annihilation  of  dynasties  ;  but  they  bear  no  comparison  to 
that  terrific  era  of  anarchy  and  blood,  designated  "the  French  Revolu- 
tion." The  history  of  that  frightful  period  will  be  elsewhere  related ;  we 
shall  not  here  attempt  to  describe  its  causes,  or  notice  the  rise  of  that 
stupendous  military  despotism  which  so  long  threatened  to  bend  the 
whole  civilized  world  under  its  iron  sceptre.  The  apologists  of  the 
French  revolution  tell  uo  that  it  was  owing  to  the  excesses  of  an  expen- 
sive and  dissipated  court ;  to  the  existence  of  an  immense  standing  army 
in  the  time  of  peace ;  to  the  terrors  of  the  Dastilc ;  to  lettres  de  cachet  (or 
mandates  issued  for  the  apprehension  of  suspected  individuals),  and  to  a 
general  system  of  espionage,  which  rendered  no  man  safe.  Others  as- 
scribe  it  partly  to  the  "  spirit  of  freedom"  imbibed  by  the  French  soldiers 
during  the  American  war;  but,  still  more,  to  the  general  diffusion  of  po- 
litical philosophical,  and  infidel  writings,  which,  replete  with  sarcasm  and 
wit,  were  levelled  equally  at  the  pulpit  and  the  throne,  and  thus,  by  un- 
settling the  minds  of  the  people,  destroyed  the  moral  bonds  and  safe- 
guards of  society. 

But,  whatever  might  have  been  the  true  causes,  certain  it  is,  that  vague 
ideas  of  freedom  beneath  republican  institutions  had  unsettled  the  minds 
of  men,  not  merely  in  France,  but  throughout  Europe.  It  was  in  that 
country,  however,  that  public  discontent  was  most  strongly  manifested. 
The  people  were  ripe  for  innovation  and  change  ;  and  Louis  XVI.,  though 
amiable  as  a  man,  had  not  the  necessary  energy  or  abilities  to  counteract 
public  feeling  or  direct  the  storm. 


OUTLINE  8KKTCII  OF  GBNBKAL  HIST  >IIY, 


63 


In  1789,  when  the  public  inromn  of  France  waa  inadequate  to  the 
wants  ur  thn  state,  it  was  thou|{lil  advisable  lo  convuke  tho  8tatca-()cn- 
eral,  or  represcniativcs  of  tho  tbrc«  orders— nobles,  clcrjfy,  and  titn-iiat 
or  commons.  At  first  some  salutary  rcforma  were  agreed  to ;  but  the 
commons  wished  to  assume  too  gn  it  a  share  of  the  (Htwer,  and,  being 
the  most  numerous  body  in  this  national  assembly,  they  carrif  d  their  fa- 
vourite measures  in  spite  of  the  court  and  privileged  orders.  To  check 
the  rising  spirit  of  turbulence  and  faction,  the  king  was  advised  to  collect 
a  large  body  of  troops  in  the  environs  of  Paris,  and  he  also  dismissed 
Nccker,  his  minister  of  finance.  Both  these  measures  were  highly  un- 
popidar,  and  the  mob,  excited  by  the  democrats,  committed  great  ex- 
cesses. Amr)ng  other  acts  of  outrage,  they  seized  the  arms  deposited  in 
the  hotel  of  the  Invalides,  attacked  the  Uastilc,  and  levelled  that  ancient 
fortress  with  the  ground.  From  that  hour  may  be  dated  tho  fall  of  th« 
nn-'iarchy.  The  terrified  king  tried  every  mode  of  concession;  but  the 
infuriated  populace,  led  by  artful  and  interested  demagogues,  and  now 
familiar  with  scenes  of  blood  and  tumult,  were  not  to  be  appeased.  The 
capital  was  divided  into  sections,  and  the  National  (»uard  was  forn>ed, 
and  placed  under  tho  command  of  the  Marquis  de  la  Lafayette,  who  had 
earned  liis  popularity  in  tho  American  war.  Meanwhile  the  Assembly 
abolished  the  privileges  of  the  noltility  and  clergy,  confiscated  the  property 
of  the  church,  divided  tho  kingdom  into  departments,  and  subverted  aU 
the  ancient  forms  and  institutions ;  a.  d.  1790. 

A  very  general  emigration  of  the  nobles  and  clergy  took  place,  and 
Louis,  abandoned  even  by  his  own  brothers,  was  virtually  a  prisoner,  or 
a  mere  tool  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies.  And  now  arose  that  democratic 
society,  afterwards  famous  in  the  blood-stained  annals  of  the  revolution, 
under  the  name  of  Jacobins.  From  this  focus  of  rebellion  issued  numer- 
ous emissaries,  who  founded  similar  societies,  or  clubs,  in  every  part  oi 
Fr?<nce:  and  thus  their  contaminating  influence  spread  around  till  the 
whole  political  atmosphere  became  one  corrupt  mass.  Surrounded  on 
every  side  by  enemies,  the  king  and  the  royal  family  at  length  resolved 
to  seek  refuge  in  one  of  the  frontier  towns ;  but  they  were  discovered  at 
Varennes,  and  brought  back  to  Paris  amid  the  insults  of  the  rabble.  The 
most  violent  Jacobins  loudly  demanded  his  death ;  a.  d.  1791. 

War  had  commenced  on  the  part  of  Austria  and  Prussia,  and  the  French 
at  first  met  with  some  severe  checks ;  but  on  the  advance  of  the  Prus 
sians,  the  duke  of  Brunswick  published  a  violent  manifesto  against  the 
French  nation,  which  did  much  injury  to  the  cause  it  advocated.  A  de- 
cree was  issued  for  suspending  the  king  from  all  his  functions,  as  well  as 
for  the  immediate  convocation  of  a  national  convention.  He  and  hii 
family  were  closely  confined  in  the  tower  of  the  Temple,  and  the  com' 
mune  of  Paris,  at  that  time  under  the  control  of  Danton,  Robespierre,  and 
Marat,  began  its  tyrannical  reign.  Under  a  pretence  that  the  Royalists 
who  were  confined  in  the  diflferent  prisons  were  domestic  enemies  of 
Frar.je,  the  forms  of  justice  were  dispensed  with,  and  they  were  inhu- 
manly butchered.  Royalty  was  next  formally  abolished;  and  it  was  re- 
solved ere  long  to  bring  the  king  to  the  scaffold.  Meantime  two  power- 
ful parties  appeared  in  the  asser.ibly  ;  the  Girondists,  or  Brissotines,  led 
by  Brissot,  who  were  sincere  republicans,  and  the  Jacobin,  or  mountain 
party,  so  called  from  the  upper  seats  which  they  occupied,  acting  under 
Robespierre  and  his  friends,  whose  sole  objects  were  anarchy  and  blood- 
shed. 

Dumouriez,  at  the  head  of  the  French  army,  hhd  found  it  impossible  to 
prevent  the  entrance  of  the  duke  of  Brunswick  into  Champagne ;  but 
disease  and  famine  arrested  his  progress,  and  he  was  compelled  to  aban- 
don all  his  conquests.  The  Austrians  were  also  obliged  to  retreat. 
Savoy  was  conquered  by  a  republican  force,  and  Germany  invaded.    The 


^  OUTLINE  SKETCH  OP  OBNEKAL  HISTORY. 

Austrians  were  signally  defeated  at  Jemappe ;  and  this  was  qit.rkly  fol 
lowed  by  the  reduction  of  Brussels,  Leige,  Namur,  and  of  thb  whole  of 
the  Netherlands,  which  were  declared  free  and  independent  states. 

In  December,  1793,  the  royal  captive  was  led  to  the  bar  of  the  Conven- 
tion, where,  after  undergoing  a  long  and  insulting  examination,  he  was 
unanimously  declared  guilty  of  conspiring  against  the  national  liberty, 
and  sentenced  to  die  by  the  guillotine.  He  conducted  himself  with  dig- 
nity,  and  heard  the  decision  of  his  fate  with  firmness  and  resignation. 
Thus  perished,  in  the  39ih  year  of  his  age  and  the  19th  of  his  reign, 
Louis  XVI-,  the  amiable  and  unfortunate  descendant  of  a  long  line  oj 
kings.  Soon  after  this  judicial  murder,  a  decree  of  the  national  Conven. 
tion  promised  assistance  to  every  nation  desirous  of  throwing  off  the 
yoke  of  its  rulers.  This  was  naturally  regarded  as  a  virtual  declaration 
of  war  against  all  the  kings  of  Europe ;  and  England,  Holland,  and  Spain 
were  now  added  to  the  list  of  its  enemies.  The  war  for  a  time  assumed 
a  new  feature ;  a  British  army,  commanded  by  the  duke  of  York,  reduced 
Valenciennes,  and  attacked  Dunkirk,  and  the  French  lost  their  conquests 
as  rapidly  as  they  had  acquired  tliem.  But  before  the  close  of  the  year 
1793,  the  fortune  of  war  was  again  in  their  favour;  the  duke  of  York 
was  obliged  to  raise  the  siege  of  Dunkirk,  wit'  "jreat  los  ,  while  the 
Austrians  were  driven  within  their  own  frontiers. 

The  horrors  of  civil  war  now  raged  in  France  with  unmitigated  fury. 
The  ferocious  Robespierre  was  at  the  head  of  the  fiercest  Jacobins;  and 
Paris  daily  witnessed  the  execution  of  the  most  respectable  of  its  citi- 
zens. Nearly  all,  indeed,  who  were  remarkable  either  for  rank,  property, 
or  talents,  were  the  victims  of  the  reign  of  terror;  and  among  the  num- 
ber who  fell  by  the  axe  of  the  guillotine  was  the  unfortunate  queen, 
Marie  Antoinette,  who  had  been  for  some  time  immured  within  the  dun- 
geon of  the  Conciergerie.  The  royalists  in  La  Vended  dared  to  oppose 
the  revolutionary  decrees;  but  the  cities  wiiich  resisted  the  regicide 
authorities,  particularly  Lyons  and  Nantes,  were  visited  with  the  most 
horrid  persecutions.  Hundreds  of  victims  were  daily  shot  or  guillotined, 
and  the  whole  country  was  laid  waste  with  demoniac  vengeance.  In  the 
meantime  extraordinary  measures  were  taken  by  the  convention  to  in- 
crease the  armies  by  levies  en  masse ;  and  private  property  was  arbitrarily 
seized  to  support  them.  Tiie  Eiiuflish  tork  possession  of  Toulon,  but 
were  soon  forced  to  abandon  it  to  the  troops  of  the  convention.  It  is 
worthy  of  remark,  that  on  this  occasion  the  talents  of  Napoleon  Buona- 
parte were  first  signally  distinguished ;  this  young  officer  having  the  com- 
mand of  liie  artillery  of  the  besiegers.  The  war  in  the  Netherlands  was 
carried  on  with  vigour,  victory  and  defeat  alternately  changing  tlie  posi- 
tion of  the  allied  armies. 

The  progress  of  the  French  revolution  was  naturally  watched  with 
feelings  of  intense  interest  by  the  people  of  England,  but  with  sentiments 
veiy  opposite  in  their  nature;  and  it  required  all  the  talents  and  vigour 
of  those  who  were  at  the  helm  of  state  to  uphold  the  ancient  institutions, 
and  direct  the  national  councils  with  safety. 

During  the  year  1794  the  French  armies  were  pretty  generally  success- 
ful. But  while  they  spread  terror  abroad,  the  French  nation  groaned 
under  the  sanguinary  despotism  of  Robespierre  and  his  ruthless  asso- 
ciates. The  time  had  at  lengtii,  however,  arrived  when  this  monster  was 
to  pay  Ihe  forfeit  of  his  own  wretched  life  for  the  outrages  he  had  com- 
mitted, and  the  unparalleled  misery  he  had  caused.  Being  publicly  ac- 
cused of  treason  and  tyranny  by  Tallien,  he  was  arrested,  and  executed 
the  following  day,  along  with  twenty-two  of  his  principal  accomplices, 
amidst  the  merited  maledictions  of  the  spectators.  In  a  few  days,  above 
seventy  members  of  the  commune  also  shared  a  similar  fate. 


OUTLINB  SKETCH  OV  QBNBHAL  HISTOaV. 


CHAPTER  XXiV. 

«RUM    THK    CSTABLISHMKNT    Or    THE    FRENCH    DIRBCTORVt 

or     AMIENS. 


ro   THK    PEACE 


A  great  naval  victory  over  the  French  was  achieved  by  lord  Howe  on 
.li«  Ist  of  June,  and  several  West  India  islands  were  taken  from  them, 
l^e  French  troops  were  uniformly  successful  in  Holland;  the  stadt- 
"  holder  was  compelled  to  seek  an  asylum  in  England ;  and  the  country, 
under  the  new  name  of  the  Batavian  republic,  was  incorporated  with 
France.     Soon  after  this,  France  received  a  new  constitution,  which 

Eilaced  the  executive  power  in  the  hands  of  five  directors  and  the  legis- 
ative  council  of  elders,  and  a  council  of  "  five  hundred." 

In  1795  Prussia  and  Spain  made  peace  with  France,  which  gave  the 
republicans  an  opportunity  of  bearing  with  their  whole  force  on  the  fron- 
tiers  of  Germanv.  The  royalists  in  La  Vande6  again  rose,  but  were 
speedily  reduced.  About  the  same  time  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  and 
several  of  the  Dutch  East  India  possessions  were  taken  by  the  Lnglish, 
whilet  admirals  Bndport,  Hotham,  and  Cornwallis  defeated  the  French 
fleets. 

Once  more  let  us  revert  to  Polish  affairs.  The  late  partition  of  Poland 
had  opened  the  eyes  of  Europe  to  the  probable  future  encroachments  of 
the  courts  of  Vienna,  Petersburgh,  and  Berlin ;  and  the  Poles,  aware  of 
their  impending  fate,  resolved  to  oppose  the  designs  of  their  enemies  by 
a  vigorous  aud  unanimous  effort.  Under  the  brave  Kosciusko  they  gave 
battle  to  the  Russians,  and  maintained  a  long  and  sanguinary  contest, 
which  ended  in  their  driving  the  enemy  out  of  Warsaw,  with  immense 
slaughter.  But  the  armies  of  Austria,  Russia,  and  Prussia,  invaded 
Poland  on  every  side ;  and  Suwarrof,  at  the  head  of  50,000  men,  anni- 
hilated their  army,  recaptured  Warsaw,  which  they  pillaged,  and,  sparing 
neither  age  nor  sex,  put  to  the  sword  nearly  30,000  individuals.  The 
final  partition  of  the  kingdom  then  took  place. 

The  campaign  of  1796  opened  with  great  vigour  on  the  part  of  the 
allies  as  well  as  on  that  of  the  French,  and  numerous  severe  battles 
were  fought  in  Germany,  the  advantage  inclining  rather  to  the  side  of 
the  allies.  Moreau,  who  had  pursued  his  victorious  career  to  the 
Danube,  there  received  a  check,  and  was  forced  to  retrace  his  steps  to 
the  Rhine ;  but  though  often  nearly  surrounded  by  the  Austrians,  he  ef- 
fected one  of  the  most  masterly  retreats  of  which  we  have  any  record  in 
modern  times. 

But  it  was  in  Italy  that  the  most  brilliant  success  attended  the  French 
arms.  The  command  had  been  given  to  Buonaparte.  Having  routed 
the  Austrians  and  Piedmontese  at  Monte  Notte  and  Millesimo,  he  com- 
pelled the  king  of  Sardinia  to  sue  for  peace.  Then  followed  his  daring 
exploit  at  the  bridge  of  Lodi,  and  his  seizure  of  Bologna,  Ferrara,  and 
Uroino;  till,  at  length,  finding  himself  undisputed  master  of  the  north  ot 
Italy,  he  erected  the  Transpadane  and  Cis-padane  republics. — Among 
the  other  events  of  the  year  may  be  noticed  the  capture  of  St.  Lucia  and 
Granada,  in  the  West  Indies,  by  Sir  Ralph  Abercrombie ;  the  failure  of  a 
French  expedition  sent  to  invade  Ireland,  which  was  dispersed  by  ad- 
verse winds ;  the  abandonment  of  Corsica  by  the  British ;  some  fruitless 
negotiations  for  peace  between  England  and  France,  and  the  demise  ot 
the  empress  Catharine  H. 

The  papal  states  were  next  overrun  by  the  French,  and  the  pope  was 
under  the  necessity  of  purchasing  peace,  not  only  with  money  i'nd  the 
surrender  of  many  valuable  statues,  paintings,  ice,  but  by  the  cession  ot 
part  of  his  territories.    Buonaparte  then  resolved  to  invade  the  hereditary 


86 


OUTLINB  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HldTORY. 


states  of  the  emperor ;  and  the  French  armies  havin?  gamed  consider- 
able advantages  over  their  adversaries,  the  French  directory  took  advan- 
tafje  of  their  position  and  offered  terms  of  peace,  and  a  definitive  treaty 
was  eventually  signed  at  Campo  Formio.  By  this  treaty  the  Venetian 
states,  which  had  been  revolutionized  by  Buonaparte  during  the  negotia- 
tions, were  ceded  to  A.ustria,  while  the  Austrian  possessions  in  the  north 
of  Italy  and  the  Netherlands  were  given  to  France  in  exchange.  Genoa 
about  the  same  time  was  revolutionized,  and  assumed  the  name  of  the  ^ 
Ligurian  republic.  At  the  latter  end  of  this  year  Lord  Duncan  obtaincj^  J.**^ 
»n  important  victory  over  the  Dutch  fleet  off  the  coast  of  Holland.        ^•■*t 

The  French  having  no  other  power  than  Great  Britain  now  to  contend 
with,  the  year  1798  was  ushered  in  with  rumours  of  a  speedy  invasion; 
and  large  bodies  of  troops,  assembled  on  the  opposite  shores  of  France,, 
were  said  to  be  destined  for  this  grand  attack,  which  was  to  be  under  the 
direction  of  the  victorious  general  Buonaparte.  These  preparations  were 
met  in  a  suitable  manner  by  the  English,  whose  effective  male  population 
might  almoist  literally  be  said  to  be  embodied  for  the  defence  of  the 
country.  At  the  same  time  a  dangerous  and  extensive  rebellion  broke 
out  in  Irt'land;  but  the  vigilance  of  the  government  defeated  the  inten- 
tions of  tiie  rebels,  and  they  submitted,  though  not  without  the  severest 
measures  being  adopted,  and  the  consequent  effusion  of  blood. 

A  secret  naval  expedition  upon  a  large  scale,  with  a  well-appointed 
army  on  board,  under  the  command  of  Buonaparte,  had  been  for  some 
time  preparing.  It  at  length  set  sail  from  Toulon,  took  possession  of 
Malta  on  their  way  to  Egypt,  and,  having  eluded  the  vigilance  of  Nelson, 
safely  landed  near  Alexandria,  which  town  they  stormed,  and  massacred 
the  inhabitants.  The  veteran  troops  of  France  everywhere  prevailed 
over  the  ill-disciplined  Mamelukes,  and  the  whole  of  Egypt  soon  submit- 
ted to  the  conqueror.  Meanwhile  Admiral  Nelson  discovered  and  totally 
destroyed  the  French  fleet  in  the  bay  of  Aboukir.  While  these  events 
were  passing  in  Egypt,  the  French  government  prosecuted  its  revolution- 
ary principles  wherever  its  emissaries  could  gain  admittance.  Rome 
was  taken  by  them,  the  pope  imprisoned,  aixl  a  republic  erected.  Swit- 
zerland was  also  invaded,  and,  notwithstanding  the  gallant  efforts  of  the 
Swiss  patriots,  the  country  was  united  to  France  under  the  title  of  the 
Helvetian  republic.  The  territory  of  Geneva  was  also  incorporated  with 
France.  These  unjustifiable  invasions  showed  so  plainly  the  aggrandiz- 
ing policy  pursued  by  the  French  directory,  that  the  emperors  of  Russia 
and  Austria,  the  king  of  Naples,  and  the  Porte  united  with  England  to 
check  their  ambitious  designs. 

The  year  1799  presented  a  continued  scene  of  active  warfare.  The 
Neapolitans,  who  had  inv^aded  the  Roman  territory,  were  not  only  driven 
back,  but  the  whole  kingdom  of  Naples  submitted  to  the  French,  and 
ihe  king  was  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in  Sicily.  The  French  armies 
also  took  possession  of  Tuscany  and  Piedmont;  but  the  operations  of 
the  allies  were  conducted  with  vigour  and  success.  The  archduke 
Charles  routed  tiie  French  under  Jourdan  in  the  hard-fought  battles  of 
Ostrach  and  Stockach;  and  'he  Auslro-Russian  army  obtained  a  decisive 
victory  at  Cassano,  and  dro)  e  the  enemy  to  Milan  and  Genoa.  The 
arms  of  the  republic  were  equally  unfortunate  in  other  parts.  Turin, 
Alessandria,  and  Mantua  were  taken  ;  and  the  French  under  Joubert  and 
Moreau,  were  totally  routed  at  Novi.  Switzerland  afterwards  became 
the  principal  scene  of  action  ;  and  there  also  the  army  of  Suwarrof  was 
successful;  but  another  Russian  army,  commanded  by  Koraskoff,  was 
attacked  and  defeated  by  Massena,  and  Zurich  taken  by  storm.  In  Italy, 
however,  success  still  attended  the  allies.  The  French  were  expelled 
from  Naples  and  Rome,  and  the  papal  chair  was  soon  after  occupied  by 
Pius  VII. 


if»i 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  (  P  QENBaAL  HISTORY. 


87 


While  these  important  military  operations  were  occupying  the  armies 
in  Europe,  Buonaparte  had  reduced  Egypt,  and  formed  the  resolution  of 
invading  Syria.  fel-At ish,  Gaza,  and  Jaffa  had  surrendered ;  and  with  the 
wonfidence  of  certain  success.  Acre  was  invested;  but  there,  as  in  days  of 
old,  a  British  warrior  was  its  defender.  The  courage  and  activity  of  Sir 
Si  '  ifjy  Smith  resisted  the  repeated  assaults  of  the  French  during  a  siege 
of . ,  ..ly-nine  days ;  and  Buonsiparte,  though  at  the  head  of  12,000  veterans 
was  completely  foiled  in  all  his  attempts,  and  was  obliged  to  retreat  mto 
Egypt.  He  was  afterwards  successful  in  several  encounters  with  tl.'o 
Turks,  particularly  at  Aboukir;  but,  foreseeing  that  the  expedition  would 
ultimately  prove  disastrous,  he  confided  the  command  to  General  Kleber, 
and  secretly  returned  to  France.  Buonaparte's  invasion  of  Egypt  was  con- 
sidered as  preparatory  to  an  attempt  on  India,  where,  at  the  very  time, 
the  British  arms  were  crowned  with  great  success — Seringapatam  having 
been  taken,  and  our  formidable  enemy,  Tippoo  Saib,  being  found  amoi.g  the 
slain. 

Discord  and  anarchy  reigned  throughout  France,  under  the  weaV,  yet 
arbitrary  administration  of  ihe  directo-y ;  and  the  sudden  appearance  of 
Buonaparte  was  the  signal  for  a  new  revolution  in  that  government.  At 
the  head  of  the  conspiracy  was  his  broth  3r  Lucien,  president  of  the  coun- 
cil of  five  hundred,  who  was  supporttd  by  Cambaceres,  Talleyrand, 
Sieyes,  Fouche,  &c.  The  directory  was  'peedily  overturned,  a  senate  and 
three  consuls  were  appointed,  and  Buonaparte  was  chosen  first  c">nsul. 

One  of  his  first  acts  was  that  of  making  pacific  overtures  to  j  'ngland, 
which  were  rejected.  He  then  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  army,  cross- 
ed Mount  St.  Bernard,  and  marched  from  victory  to  victory,  till  the  mem- 
orable battle  of  Marengo  decided  the  fate  of  Italy.  The  successes  of  the 
French  in  Germany  were  of  a  less  decisive  nature  ;  but  the  defeat  of  the 
allies  at  Hohenlinden  induced  Francis  II.  to  sign  the  treaty  of  Luneville, 
by  which  he  ceded  some  of  his  possessions  in  Germany,  and  transferred 
Tuscany  to  tlieduke  of  Parma. 

At  the  beginning  of  1801  England  was  without  an  ally,  and  had  to  con- 
tend with  another  formidable  opponent  in  Paul  1.,  of  Russia,  who  had  in- 
duced Sweden  and  Denmark  to  unite  with  him  in  forming  an  armed  neu- 
trality. To  crush  this  northern  confederacy  in  the  bud,  a  large  fleet  was 
sent  to  the  Baltic,  under  the  command  of  Sir  Hyde  Parker  and  Lord  Nel- 
son; Copenhagen  was  attacked,  and  the  whole  of  the  Danish  ships  were 
either  taken  or  destroyed.  This  victory  gave  a  fatal  blow  to  the  northern 
confederacy,  which  was  evetitually  annihilated  by  tlie  death  of  Paul,  and 
the  accession  of  his  son  Alexander,  who  imm-^diately  -reased  the  British 
vessels  detained  in  his  ports,  and  otherwise  shewed  !:iS  inclination  to  be 
on  amicable  terms  with  England. 

In  Egypt  General  Kleber  had  been  assassinated,  and  the  command  of 
the  French  troops  devolved  on  Menou.  A-i  English  army,  under  Sir 
Ralph  Abercrombie  had  now  arrived  and  a  decisive  victory  was  gained  by 
them  at  Alexandria,  but  they  had  to  lament  mi  •  loss  of  their  gallant  com- 
mander, who  fell  in  the  action.  Grand  Cairo.  Rosettii,  and  Alexandria 
soon  after  surrendered,  and  tlie  Frencii  agreed  to  evacuate  the  country. 
The  other  events  of  the  year  1801  were  of  minor  importance  ;  and  in  the 
spring  of  the  following  year  peace  was  signed  at  Amiens.  England  con- 
sented to  surrender  all  its  conquests,  with  the  exception  of  Ceylon  and 
Trinidad ;  the  Ionian  islands  were  to  form  a  republic  ;  and  Malta  was  to  be 
restored  to  its  original  possessors. 

A  new  constitution  was  given  to  France  in  1802,  by  which  Buonaparte 
vt^as  declared  chief  consul  for  life  ;  the  whole  of  the  executive  authority, 
and  even  the  appointment  of  his  two  colleagues  being  vested  in  him.  New 
ronstilutions  were  also  given  to  Switzerland  and  the  Italian  repub- 
Ur«     About  this  period  Buonaparte  sent  a  considerable  force  to   reduce 


96 


OJTLINB  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


the  island  of  St.  Domingo,  where  Toiiissiint  L'Ouverture,  anegro,  had  erect 
ed  a  republic.  After  an  obstinate  and  sanguinary  contest,  the  rebelliout 
negroes  submitted,  and  Touissant  was  treacherously  seized  and  sent  to 
France ;  but  the  French  were  unable  fully  to  recover  the  island. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

rROM  THE  RKCOMMENCEMKNT  Of    HOSTILITIES,  TO  THE  TREATV  OF  TILSn. 

The  treaty  of  Amiens  was  little  better  than  a  hollow  truce  ;  and  many 
disputes  arising  respecting  its  fulfilment,  the  war  was  resumed.  In  open 
violation  of  the  law  of  nations,  Buonaparte  immediately  commanded  the  ar- 
rest of  all  the  English  whom  business  or  pleasure  had  drawn  into  France, 
Hanover  was  invaded  and  plundered ;  and  an  immense  force  was  collect- 
ed oa  the  French  coast,  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  annihilating  the  British 
power :  but  this,  as  before,  proved  an  empty  boast.  Holland,  being  placed 
under  the  control  of  France,  was  dragged  into  the  wnr,  and  soon  lost  hpr 
colonies.  St.  Domingo  threw  off  its  forced  allegiance  to  France,  and 
Dessalines,  the  successor  of  Touissant,  was  made  president  of  the  repub- 
lic ofHayti,  the  ancient  name  of  the  island.  The  English  at  this  time 
were  very  successful  in  India,  under  the  government  of  the  marquis  of 
Wellesley. 

The  personal  ambition  of  Buonaparte  was  every  day  more  evident,  and 
he  at  length  resolved  to  annihilate  the  republic,  and  crown  himself  with 
an  imperial  diadem.  Having  procured  the  assassination  of  the  duke  d'En- 
ghein,  and  by  the  basest  arts  impressed  on  the  minds  of  the  people  an 
idea  that  treasonable  practices  were  carrying  on  against  him,  the  servile 
senate,  desirous,  as  they  said,  of  investing  him  with  the  highest  title 
of  sovereignty,  in  order  the  more  eflFectually  to  establish  his  authority,  pro- 
claimed him  emperor  of  the  French — a  title  which  was  acknowledged  im- 
mediately by  all  the  sovereigns  of  Europe,  Great  Britain  and  Sweden 
alone  excepted  :  a.  d.  1804, 

During  the  following  year  Buonaparte  assumed  the  iron  crown  of  Lom- 
bardy,  under  the  title  of  king  of  Italy,  which  aroused  the  indignation  ol 
Francis  II.,  who  united  with  England  and  Russia.  But  an  event  which 
of  all  others  was  most  calculated  to  raise  the  hopes  of  the  allies,  was  the 
unexampled  victory  gained  by  Nelson  oflFTrafalgar  (Oct.  21)  over  the  com- 
bined fleets  of  France  and  Spain. 

In  Germany  the  Austrian  army  was  doomed  to  suffer  great  loss.  At 
the  head  of  140,000  soldiers,  Napoleon  crossed  the  Rhine;  and  at  Ulm, 
the  Austrian  general  Mack  surrendered  his  whole  force,  consisting  of  140,- 
000  men.  Vienna  was  soon  after  entered  by  Napoleon,  and  at  lenffth  the 
Austrians  were  completely  defeated  at  the  battle  of  Austerlitz.  Tii;s  in- 
duced Francis  to  sue  for  peace  ;  and  a  treaty  was  concluded  at  Presburg, 
by  which  he  ceded  to  France  the  states  of  Venice,  and  resigned  the  Tyrol, 
&c.,  to  the  newly-created  king  of  Wirtemburg. 

Early  in  1806  the  English  retook  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  from  the 
Dutch.  About  the  same  time  Naples  was  invaded  by  the  French,  and 
Napoleon  gave  his  brother,  Joseph  Buonaparte,  the  crown  of  that  king- 
dom, its  legitimate  sovereign  having  previously  retired  to  Sicily.  Holland 
was  also  erected  into  a  kingdom,  and  given  to  his  brother  Louis.  Amidst 
these  and  other  important  changes  for  the  aggrandizement  of  his  family, 
Buonaparte  formed  the  "  confederation  of  the  Rhine,"  the  name  given  to 
those  states  whose  rulers  renounced  the  ancient  laws  of  the  empire.  The 
continued  encroachments  of  France  now  roused  the  king  of  Prussia,  who 
rushed  precipitately  into  a  war,  and  imprudently  staked  his  fortune  on  the 
chance  of  one  battle.  This  was  the  celebrated  battle  of  Jena,  where  110,000 


i 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HlflTORY. 


99 


Mrussians  and  Saxons  contended  with  150,000  or  the  French,  and  were 
defeated  and  closely  pursued.  Berlin  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victors, 
and  the  Prussian  general,  Blucher,  after  a  brave  resistance,  was  forced  to 
capitulate.  Prince  Hohenloe  and  his  army  surrendered  at  Prentzlau. 
Silesia  was  overrun  by  the  P>ench,  who  '^lenetrated  into  Poland,  and  exci- 
ted the  Poles  to  assert  their  independence.  The  Russians,  who  were  now 
advancing,  met  and  defeated  the  French  at  Pultusk  ;  and,  notwithstand- 
mg  the  combined  efforts  of  Mural,  Lasnes,  and  Ney,  they  were  also  suc- 
cessful at  Golomyn.  In  the  insolence  of  power.  Napoleon,  at  Berlin,  is- 
sued his  famous  decrees,  prohibiting  all  commercial  intercourse  with  the 
British  isles,  and  commanding  the  confiscation  of  every  article  of  British 
manufacture,  which  scheme  of  exclusion  hedignified  with  the  nameof  the 
"  continental  system." 

The  grand  Russian  army  under  Benningsen,  encount'Jred  a  superior 
French  force  near  Eylau,  where  a  sanguine  but  indecisive  contliit  en- 
sued. Dantzic  surrendered  to  Lcfevre ;  and  a  complete  victory  being 
gained  by  the  French  at  Friedland,  it  was  shortly  followed  by  the  treaty 
of  Tilsit.  The  Russians  and  Prussians  submitted  to  all  the  imperious 
demands  of  Napoleon;  but  Gustavus,  king  of. Sweden,  alone  refused  to 
treat  with  him,  or  to  recognize  his  imperial  dignity. 

The  Danes  having  yielded  to  the  influence  of  France,  an  expedition  was 
sent  thither  by  England,  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  Danisli  fleet 
from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  French.  Copenhagen  surrendered  after 
a  few  days'  siege,  and  the  ships  and  naval  stores  were  delivered  to  the  En- 
glish. This  act  of  aggression  was  resented  by  the  emperor  of  Russia, 
who  declared  war  against  ^]ngland.  Among  other  remarkable  events  of 
this  year,  were  the  departure  of  the  prince  regent  of  Portugal  and  his 
court  to  the  Brazils,  the  conquest  of  Portugal  by  the  French,  and  the 
erection  of  Saxony  into  a  kingdom. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

TUE  FRENCH  INVASION  OF  SPAIN,  AND  SUBSEQUENT  PENINSULAR   WAR. 

What  open  force  could  not  effect,  was  carried  by  intrigue  and  treach- 
ery. Napoleon  having  invited  Charles  IV.,  king  of  Spain,  to  a  conference 
at  Bayoiuie,  seized  his  person,  compelled  him  to  abdicate,  and  transferred  the 
crown  to  Joseph  Buonaparte,  whose  place  at  Naples  was  soon  after  oc- 
cupied by  Murat,  Napoleon's  brother-in-law.  Spain  was  filled  with  French 
troops,  and  no  opposition  was  dreaded  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  Spaniards  re- 
covered from  their  consternation,  the  people  rose  in  all  parts,  and  pro- 
claimed Ferdinand  VII.  The  patriots  began  the  war  vvi,h  c^reat  spirit ;  the 
usurper  fled  from  Madrid;  while  Palafox  and  the  brave  intiabitanls  of  Sar- 
agossa  gained  immortal  honour  by  the  invincible  courage  they  displayed 
in  defending  their  town  against  the  furious  attacks  of  the  French,  who 
were  eventually  compelled  to  retreat. 

The  Portuguese  followed  the  example  of  the  Spaniards  ;  and  a  British 
army,coinmanded  by  Sir  AnhurWellesley,  landed  and  defeated  the  French 
geneial,  Junot,  at  Vimiera.  But  Sir  Hugh  Dalrymple  arriving  to  assume 
the  fonimand,  the  convention  of  Cintra  was  entered  into,  by  which  the 
Frt  :,  ;  army,  with  all  its  baggage,  artillery,  &c.,  were  to  be  conveyed  to 
France.  An  English  army  of  30,000  men^  under  Sir  John  Moore,  landed 
in  Spain,  and  advanced  as  far  as  Salamanca  ;  but  the  French  force  in  that 
country  amounted  to  150,000.  Madrid  was  taken,  and  the  English,  not 
being  well  supported  by  the  Spaniards,  were  compelled  to  retreat.  At 
Corunna  a  severe  battle  was  fought,  and  Sir  John  Moore  was  mortally 
wounded. 


%* 


fO  OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 

AuBtria  having  leclared  war  against  France,  Napoleon  entered  the  field, 
repulsed  the  Austrians  at  Eckmulil,  and  iook  possession  of  Vienna.  The 
archduke  Cliarles  gave  him  battle  near  Essling,  which  was  desperately 
contested,  and  terminated  in  favour  of  the  Austrians  ;  but  soon  after,  at 
Wagram,  the  French  gained  an  important  victory.  The  brave  Tyrolese 
in  this  campai{,Mi  made  the  most  heroic  efforts  against  the  French;  but 
the  patriot  Hoffer  was  taken  and  shot. 

A  most  unsuccessful  expedition  was  undertaken  by  the  English  against 
Antwerp.  It  was  composed  of  nearly  40,000  men ;  great  numbers  of 
whom  were  swept  of  by  a  pestilential  fever  while  in  possession  of  the 
island  of  Walcheren ;  and  the  remainder  returned  without  effecting  any 
useful  object.  In  other  parts  the  English  were  more  successful,  having 
taken  Cayenne,  Martinique,  and  three  of  the  Ionian  islands. 

In  Turkey  the  sultan  Selim  had  been  assassinated;  Mahmoud  was 
seated  on  the  throne,  and  peace  was  concluded  between  the  Porte  and 
Great  Britain.    After  a  protracted  negotiation  with  Napoleon,  the  emperor 
of  Austria  signed  the  treaty  of  Vienna,  by  which  he  was  obliged  to  sur 
render  to  France,  Bavaria,  and  Russia,  a  considerable  portion  of  his  do 
niinions. 

Sir  Arthur  Wellesley  had  now  the  chief  command  in  the  Peninsula. 
He  forced  the  passage  of  the  Douro,  recovered  OporlC:  and  drove  Soult 
out  of  Portugal.  He  then  defeated  the  French  with  (,roat  slaughter  at 
Talavera;  but  the  enemy  being  reinforced,  he  was  obliged  to  retreat 
His  great  services  were,  however,  duly  appreciated,  and  he  was  created 
Baron  Wellington.  At  the  close  of  1809  the  Spanish  patriots  buitainei' 
some  severe  defeats,  and  Gerona  was  taken  by  them.  Marsha.  >  Junoi 
and  Ney  commenced  the  ensuing  campaign  with  the  capture  of  Astorif 
and  Cuidad  Rodrigo ;  while  Massena  entered  Portugal,  and  took  Ameida 
At  Busaco  Lord  Wellington  defeated  him,  and  reachjag  the  impregnabh 
lines  of  Torres  Vedras,  he  took  up  a  strong  position,  j'rom  whi«li  the  French 
could  not  dislodge  him,  and  Massena  soon  afterwards  commenced  a  dis 
astrous  retreat. 

The  campaign  of  1811  was  distinguished  by  a  series  of  battles,  in  which 
the  contending  armies  displayed  gr°at  bravery,  but  without  any  decided 
advantage  to  either  in  the  end.  Among  those  in  which  the  allies  were 
most  successful,  were  Badajoz,  Albeura,  and  Barrosa.  The  year  1811  was 
also  memorable  as  the  period  when  the  Spanish  American  colonies  began 
to  renounce  tiieir  allegiance  to  Spain,  and  struggle  for  independence. 

In  181'.^  the  events  of  the  war  assumed  a  new  complexion.  A  change 
had  taken  place  in  the  government  of  Spain,  and  more  earnestness  and 
energy  was  displayed  in  its  councils.  Lord  Wellington  commenced  with 
the  capture  of  Cuidad  Rodrigo  and  Badajoz :  then  advancing  into  Spain,  he 
gained  a  decisive  victory  over  Marmont  near  Salamanca,  which  was  fol- 
lowed by  his  entrance  into  Madrid,  where  he  was  received  with  the  moat 
enthusiastic  acclamations,  in  the  meantime  the  patriot  armies  in  the 
north  of  Spain  wore  eminently  su^^cessful ;  and  in  the  south  the  French 
were  compelled  to  raise  the  scige  of  Cadiz,  and  evacuate  Granada,  Cor- 
dova, Seville,  6cc. 


CHAPTER  XXYII. 

PROM  THE  INVASION  OF  RUSSIA  BV  THE    FRENCH    TO    THE    RESTORATION    or 

THE  BOURBONS. 

We  must  now  take  a  rapid  review  of  those  extraordinary  scenes  in  the 
North  which  rivctted  the  attention  of  all  Europe,  and  filled  every  breast 
with  anxious  expectation.  The  emperor  Alexander  felt  himself  humilia- 
ted, and  his  country  injured  bv  that  rigid  observance  of  the  "continental 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  QiNKttAL  HISTORY. 


M 


0» 

the 
east 
iliii- 
sntal 


iiyttem"  which  Napoleon  had  insisted  on,  and  t)ie  boundless  ambition  o. 
the  latter,  added  to  his  hatred  of  all  that  was  English,  led  him  to  attempt 
the  subjugation  of  the  Russian  empire.  He  concluded  an  offensive  and 
defensive  alliance  with  Austria,  Prussia,  and  the  confedration of  the  Rhine, 
whose  forces  were  destined  to  swell  his  ranks.  The  immense  army, 
«mounting  to  above  475,000  men,  now  marched  towards  the  Russian  fron- 
tiers ;  and  the  Russians  gradually  retired  at  the  approach  of  the  enemy, 
who,  though  checked  and  harassed  in  every  way  possible,  pressed  onward 
with  amazing  rapidity.  At  length  a  tremendous  battle  was  fought  under 
the  walls  of  Smolensko,  and  the  city  was  quickly  after  evacuated,  the 
Russians  retreating  on  Moscow.  Having  received  daily  accessions  of 
troops,  among  whom  were  numerous  bodies  of  Cossacks,  Kutusoff,  the 
Russian  commander,  determined  on  hazarding  a  grand  battle,  when  a 
most  sanguinary  contest  ensued,  in  which  the  French  lost  about  40,000 
and  the  Russians  30,000  men.  But  Napoleon  being  reinforced,  he  was 
enabled  to  take  possession  of  Moscow ;  he  had  scarcely,  however,  taken 
up  his  head  quarters  in  the  Kremlim,  before  he  discovered  that  the  city 
was  set  on  fire  in  several  places,  by  order  of  Rostopchin,  its  patriotic  gov- 
enor,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  was  soon  reduced  to  a  heap  of  ruins.  Thus 
being  in  a  moment,  as  it  were,  deprived  of  shelter,  and  feeling  the  severity 
of  a  Russian  winter  fast  approaching,  Napoleon  endeavoured  to  negotiate, 
but  Alexander,  who,  at  the  commencement  of  the  French  invasion  had 
declared  that  "now  the  sword  was  drawn  he  would  not  again  sheath  it  as 
long  as  an  enemy  remained  in  his  dominions,"  indignantly  rejected  every 
proposition.  Cut  off  from  all  supplies,  and  exposed  to  the  incessant  at- 
tacks of  the  exasperated  Russians,  among  whom  were  hordes  of  Cossacks, 
the  wretched  troops  commenced  one  of  the  most  disastrous  retreats  ever 
recorded  in  history.  Again  and  again  had  they  to  sustain  the  vigorous 
attacks  of  their  pursuers,  till  the  whole  route  was  str-ewed  with  baggage, 
artillery,  and  ammunition,  and  with  the  mangled  and  frozen  bodies  of  men 
and  horses.  Of  the  mighty  force  thai  invaded  Russia,  only  30,000  returned 
to  France;  400,000  perished  <'T  were  made  prisoners;  while  the  author  of 
all  their  unparalleled  sufferings  basely  deserted  his  army,  travelled  through 
Poland  and  Germany  in  disguise,  and  reached  his  capital  in  safety. 

The  unexampled  reverses  of  Napoleon  were  hailed  by  the  nations  on 
the  continent  as  the  signal  for  their  deliverance  from  his  iron  grasp.  Al- 
exander concluded  an  alliance  with  Sweden  and  Prussia,  and  they  pre- 
pared for  hostilities.  Some  sanguinary  but  indecisive  battles  were  fought, 
and  a  short  armistice  was  agreed  upon,  during  which  time  Austria  joined 
the  league,  and  all  parties  prepared  for  the  renewal  of  the  contest  with 
increased  vigour.  The  greatest  unanimity  prevailed  in  the  councils  of  the 
allied  sovereigns.  Their  armies  made  a  formidable  attack  on  Dresden, 
though  they  failed  in  their  object  of  taking  the  city  by  a  coup-de-main :  but 
'.he  veteran  Blucher  defeated  the  enemy  at  Katzbacli,  and  thereby  deliv- 
ered Silesia.  Vandamme  was  beaten  at  Culm,  and  Ney  at  Jutterbock. 
It  was  now  resolved  that  the  whole  of  the  allied  armies  should  make  » 
simultaneous  effort  to  crush  the  common  enemy.  The  forces  of  Napole- 
on were  concentrated  at  Leipsic,  and  there  it  was  that  the  allies  attacked 
and  totally  defeated  him.  The  sanguinary  battle  raged  from  dawn  of  day 
till  night ;  both  sides  suffered  immense  loss,  but  that  of  the  French  was  by 
far  the  greatest.  Consulting  his  own  personal  safety,  as  in  his  retreat 
from  Russia,  Buonaparte  hastily  reached  Paris ;  while  the  French  garri- 
sons which  occupied  the  Saxon  and  Prussian  fortresses  were  abandoned 
to  their  fate.  The  victory  of  Liepsic  aroused  every  nation  yet  in  alliance 
with  France  to  throw  off  the  oppressor's  yoke.  Among  the  number  was 
Holland,  whose  inhabitants  expelled  the  French,  and  recalled  the  prince 
of  Orange.  The  Russian  campaign  and  the  war  that  now  raged  in  Ger- 
mariv.  had  proved  beneficial  to  the  Spanish  cause,  by  withdrawing  many 


M  OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  OENBUAL  HISTORY. 

of  Napoleon's  experienced  generals  and  veteravi  troops.  Lord  Wellington 
croHsed  the  Douro,  and  marching  northwards,  came  up  with  the  French 
army,  commanded  by  Marshal  Jourdan,  at  Vittoria,  where  he  obtained  a 
decisive  victory,  June  21,  1813.  The  memorable  seige  of  St.  Sebastian, 
and  the  defeat  of  Marshal  Soult,  to  whose  skiU  the  task  of  defending  the 
frontiers  of  "ranee  was  confided,  were  the  other  most  prominent  events 
of  the  camp...gn ;  and  France  was  soon  after  entered  on  the  south-west 
by  the  English  and  Spaniards,  and  on  the  north-east  by  the  combined  ar- 
mies of  Russia,  Prussia,  and  Austria 

In  the  meanwhile  the  French  emperor  obtained  a  levy  of  300,000  men, 
to  oppose  the  threatened  invasion.  Several  engagements  took  place ;  but 
the  allies  marched  steadily  on,  by  different  routes,  and  at  length  approached 
the  city  of  Paris,  which  capitulated.  On  the  following  day  (March  31, 
1814),  the  emperor  of  Russia  and  the  king  of  Prussia,  accompanied  by 
their  generals  and  staff,  made  their  triumphal  entry  into  Paris,  amidst  the 
acclamations  of  the  inhabitants,  who,  whether  sincere  or  not,  made  the 
air  resound  with  reiterated  cries  of  "Vive  I'Empereur  Alexandre  ;"  "Vi- 
vent  les  Bourbons;"  "A  has  les  tyran,"  <5cc.  In  the  meantime  the  mar- 
quis of  Wellington  had  defeated  Soult  near  Toulouse,  and  was  advancing 
towards  the  capital.  Napoleon,  finding  that  the  senate  had  deposed  him, 
and  that  the  allied  powers  were  determined  not  to  enter  into  any  treaty 
with  him  as  sovereign  of  France,  abdicated  his  usurped  crov/n  at  Fon- 
tainbleau  ;  and  the  isle  of  Elba,  with  a  suitable  income,  was  asoigned  hirn 
for  his  future  residence.  Louis  XVIII.  was  placed  on  the  throne  of  his 
ancestors,  the  other  sovereigns  who  had  been  deprived  of  their  dominions 
were  restored,  and  all  Europe  once  more  hailed  a  general  peace. 

We  must  not  omit  to  notice  that  the  Americans,  having  been  dissatis- 
fied with  the  British  orders  in  council,  resulf'iig  from  the  Berlin  and  Milan 
decrees  of  Napoleon,  thought  proper,  in  1812,  to  declare  war  against  Eng- 
land, and  forthwith  invaded  Canada;  they  were,  however,  driven  back 
[with  considerable  loss.  The  American  commodore.  Perry,  succeeded,  on 
the  lOih  of  September,  1813,  in  capturing  the  British  fleet  on  Lake  Erie. 
Fort  Erie  was  also  taken  by  the  Americans  in  July,  1814,  and  during  the 
same  month  were  fought  sanguinary  battles  at  Chippewa  and  Bridgewater. 
On  the  11th  of  September,  Sir  George  Provost,  with  14,000  men,  made  an 
attack  upon  Plattsburg,  but,  after  a  severe  contest,  was  compelled  to  retire 
with  great  loss.  The  British  fleet  under  Do.vme  was  captured  by  Com- 
modore M'Donough,  on  the  same  day.  The  war  was  terminated  by  the 
treaty  of  Ghent,  Dec.  12,  1814.] 


CHAPTER  XXVIH. 

raOM  THE  RETURN  OF  BUONAPARTE  FROM  ELBA,  TO  THE  GENERAL  PE  vCB 

In  March,  1815,  while  the  plenipotentiaries  and  the  allied  sovereigns  were 
occupied  at  the  congress  of  Vienna  in  laying  the  foundation  of  a  perma- 
nent peace,  the  astounding  news  arrived  that  Napoleon  had  left  Elba,  and 
landed  in  France,  with  about  1150  followers.  Such  was  the  encourage- 
ment he  received,  that  when,  on  the  19th,  he  reached  Fontainbleau,  he  was 
at  the  head  of  15,000  veterans,  with  the  certainty  that  numerous  corps 
were  advancing  on  every  side  to  join  his  standard.  Preparations  were 
made  to  arrest  his  progress ;  but  on  his  march  he  was  powerfully  rein- 
forced, and  he  reached  Paris  umnolested.  Louis  had  previously  left 
the  capital,  and  now  sought  an  asylum  in  the  Netherlands.  The  allied 
sovereigns  in  the  meantime  issued  a  manifesto,  in  which  it  was  declared, 
that  Napoleon  Buonaparte,  bv  violating  the  convention  in  virtue  of  which 


OUTLINE  SKETCH  OF  GENERAL  HISTORY. 


93 


'.CE 


rein- 
left 
llied 
|red, 
licl) 


he  had  been  settled  at  Elba,  hati  forfeited  every  claim  to  protection,  and 
he  was  solemnly  pronounced  an  oiuIh'.v, 

In  answer  to  this  manifesto  Napolcm  ,„:bli8hed  a  declaration,  assert- 
mg  that  he  -xaa  recalled  to  the  throne  by  the  unanimous  wish  of  the  French 

Eeople.  Large  armies  were  assembled  with  all  possible  expedition,  and 
luonaparte,  with  extraordinary  celerity,  opened  the  short  but  memorable 
campaign,  by  attaciting  *''j  advanced  posts  of  the  Prussians  on  the  15th 
of  June.  On  that  and  t>i«  following  day  c  "'.8i<leral)le  success  attended 
his  arms,  but  on  the  fic.d  i,'  Waterloo  (June  18)  the  genius  of  Wellington 
and  the  steady  valour  of  th  iT'itish  troops  gave  a  death-blow  to  his  hopes 
and  once  moi3  rescued  Europe  from  its  degrading  thraldom.  Having 
witnessed  IL  irretrievable  rum  of  his  army,  he  tied  with  the  greatest 
precipitation  from  the  field  of  battle,  while  the  residue  of  his  discomfited 
troops  were  pursued  by  the  Prussians  imder  l)lu(;her.  The  combined 
armies  now  rapidly  advanced  towards  Paris,  and  Uuonaparte,  finding  that 
his  reign  was  at  an  end,  fled  to  the  sea-coast  in  the  hope  of  making  his 
escape  to  America.  In  this,  however.  In.  wa  foiled  by  the  vigilance  of 
the  British  cruisers,  and  he  at  length  surrcndernl  to  captain  Maitland,  of 
the  Bellerophon,  who,  at  his  request,  brought  him  to  the  British  shores, 
•'':>iijh  he  was  not  permitted  to  land.  After  some  discussion  it  was  re- 
solved he  siiuuld  be  imprisoned  for  life  .''.he  island  of  St.  Helena,  whither, 
acronipanied  by  a  small  train  of  attcndaius,  he  was  forthwith  sent.  Louis 
XVIII.  wao  <i  second  time  restored  to  his  throne.  An  act  of  amnesty 
was  pii'sed,  from  which  a  few  of  Napoleoi/i  most  strenuous  supporters 
were  t  •  jluded,  whilst  Ney  and  Labedoyere  were  shot. 

By  i.ie  terms  of  the  trcMty  entered  into  between  France  and  the  allied 
powers,  it  was  agreed  that  sixteen  of  the  frontier  fortresses  of  France 
should  be  garrisoned  by  tlie  allies  for  five  years,  and  that  150,000  allied 
troops,  under  the  duke  of  Wellington,  should  be  maintained  in  that  king- 
dom for  the  same  space  of  time.  The  following  arrangements  were  also 
concluded  at  the  congress  of  Vienna ;  Prussia  was  enriched  by  the  annex- 
ation of  a  portion  of  Saxony,  and  recovered  Lusatia ;  Russia  received  a 
large  part  of  Poland;  the  Venetian  terrii  »ries  were  given  to  Austria; 
Genoa  was  assigned  to  the  king  of  Sa.dinia  ;  ilie  papal  dominions  were 
restored ;  while  the  United  Provinces  and  th.^,  Netherlands  were  formed 
into  a  kingdom  for  the  prince  of  Orange.  England  restored  to  the  Dutch 
some  of  the  colonies  she  had  taken  from  thtm,  and  various  minor  changes 
also  took  place.  A  confederation  was  then  "ntered  into  by  the  sovereign 
states  of  Germany  for  mutual  defence  and  th  •  prevention  of  internal  war, 
and,  to  crown  the  whole,  the  emperors  of  'o..''t)ia  and  Austria,  with  the 
king  of  Prussia,  bound  themselves  by  a  sob  m  compact,  called  the  Holy 
Alliunce,  the  professed  object  of  which  wa;s  to  preserve  the  peace  of  Eu- 
rope, and  to  maintain  the  principles  of  Ch.yjtianity  in  their  respective 
dominions. 

Ha\ing  brought  our  "Outline  Sketch  of  General  History"  down  to  a 
period  so  momentous,  we  shall  leave  all  subsequent  events  for  narration 
in  the  Histories  of  separate  countries  which  follow.  In  the  brief  and  cur- 
sory Introduction  we  have  given,  the  reader  has  had  a  rapid  view  of  the 
rise  and  fall  of  empires,  the  excesses  of  despotic  power,  and  some  of  the 
countless  evils  attendant  on  a  otate  of  anarchy  Still  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  in  this  slight  sketch  we  have  only  pioneered  the  way.  As  we 
proceed,  it  will  be  our  aim  more  fully  to  develope  the  motives,  while  we 
describe  the  actions,  of  those  responsible  individuals  in  whose  hands  the 
destinies  of  nations  are  entrusted  ;  and  the  judicious  reader,  impressed, 
as  he  cannot  fail  to  be,  witli  the  mutability  of  h  man  institutions  and  the 
instability  of  human  grandeur,  will  be  naturally  led  to  contemplate  and 
admire  the  overruling  conduct  of  Divine  Providence  in  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  the  world. 


PRESENT  CONDITION  OF  THE  WORLD. 


wcHt,  north-west,  and 

V  the  Frozen  Ocean  ; 

iniit  3,400  miles  in 

Kin  Mountains  in 

pan  to  the  Nortn 


EUROPE. 

KuRopE  lies  ahnost  entirely  in  the  northerr.  'omperate  zone;  a  smaFI 
part  of  it  at  the  northern  extremity  is  extendcu  beyond  the  arclio  circle, 
but  it  does  not  approach  nearer  to  the  equ  f^r  'Siii  35i  degrees.  On  the 
east  and  sonth-east  it  is  bounded  by  A.x 
south-west,  by  the  Atlantic  Ocean ;  on  I 
and  on  the  south,  by  the  Mcdilerraneai 
length,  from  Cape  St.  Vincent  in  Portu^i 
Russia;  and  2,500  miles  in  breadth,  frou, 
Cape  in  Lapland. 

In  proportion  to  its  size,  Europe  is  the  most  populous  of  all  the  great 
divisions  of  the  globe,  and,  except  in  its  northern  states,  it  enjoys  an 
agreeable  temperature  of  climate.  The  soil,  though  not  equal  in  luxuri- 
ance to  that  of  the  tropics,  is  well  adapted  to  tillage  and  pasturage,  so 
that  it  affords  a  copious  supply  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  while  its  minew 
produce  the  most  useful  metals,  and  its  seas  teem  with  fish. 

In  no  part  of  the  world  are  manufactures  carried  to  greater  perfection 
than  in  several  of  the  European  countries,  especially  in  Great  Britain, 
France,  and  Germany,  and  that  commercial  intercourse  which  of  late  years 
has  so  very  greatly  increased,,  is  gradually  obliterating  national  prejudices, 
exciting  emulation,  rewarding  industry,  cultivating  feelings  of  mutual 
esteem,  and  increasing  the  comforts,  conveniences,  and  luxuries  of  all. 
To  the  commerce  of  Europe,  in  fact,  there  appear^  to  be  no  limits ;  its 
traders  are  to  be  seen  in  every  country,  ann  every  sea  is  filled  with  its 
ships.  Moreover,  as  the  seat  of  art  and  science,  as  the  region  where  civi- 
lization is  in  active  progress,  and  where  Christianity  is  extending  its  be- 
nign influence  far  and  wide,  Europe  indeed  maintains  a  proud  eminence, 
and,  judging  from  present  appearances,  its  inhabitants  bid  fair  at  no  dis- 
tant day  to  extend  their  dominions,  already  vast,  by  colonizing  and  givinjt 
laws  to  nations  now  scarcely  emerging  from  barbarism. 


ASIA. 

The  general  history  of  this  division  of  the  world  carries  us  back  to  tht 
creation.  The  cradle  of  our  first  parents,  and  the  portion  of  the  earth 
where  the  most  stupendous  acts  of  divine  power  and  wisdom  have  been 
displayed,  Asia  presents  a  most  interesting  subject  for  the  contemplative 
mind.  It  was  here  that  the  world  before  the  flood,  as  far  as  we  know, 
was  concentered.  It  was  here  that  the  antediluvian  patriarchs  settled, 
and  spread  abroad  the  families  of  the  earth.  After  the  flood,  Asia  wae 
the  heart  of  life,  the  source  of  all  that  population  which  has  since  covered 
the  globe  with  its  myriads  of  inhabitants.  The  pre.sent  race  of  Asiatics  is 
deduced  from  the  Hebrews,  the  Indians,  and  the  Tartars.  It  is  foreign  to 
our  purpose  to  follow  the  series  of  the  various  tribes  of  population,  which, 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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96 


PRESENT  CONDITION  OP  THE  WORLD. 


from  the  great  fountain,  overspread  the  earth,  and  especially  Europe     In 
deed,  the  whole  of  Europe,  however  elevated  in  the  scale  of  reason  an<i 
intelligence  above  their  primitive  sources,  derived  its  people  and  language 
from  Asia,  while  from  Asia  Minor  have  flowed  arms,  arts  and  learning. 


AFRICA. 

Africa  is  situated  to  the  south  of  Europe,  and  to  the  west  and  south- 
west  of  Asia.  It  is  separated  from  the  former  bv  the  Mediterranean  Sea 
and  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  and  from  Asia  by  the  Red  Sea,  at  the  most 
northerly  extremity  of  which  it  is  united  to  Asia  by  the  isthmus  of  Suez. 

The  history  of  this  immense  peninsula,  like  several  of  the  kingdoms  of 
which  it  is  composed,  is  involved  in  much  obscurity.  Interesting  as  are 
the  monuments  of  former  greatness  to  be  fouiid  in  this  part  of  the  world, 
esnecially  in  Egypt,  there  are  no  memorials  on  which  the  eye  of  science 
rests  with  more  intensity  of  attention  than  upon  those  tablets  which  have 
enshrined  the  names  of  the  several  martyrs,  from  the  time  of  Pharaoh 
Necho,  to  the  inhuman  murders  of  many  an  enterprising  European  trav- 
eller. The  sun  of  civilization  which  once  illumined  with  all  its  splendour 
one  portion  of  this  divif  ion  of  the  world  has  been  greatly  obscured,  and 
of  the  greater  part  of  it  we  may  say, 

"  Shadows,  clonds,  and  darkness  rest  apon  it." 


AMERICA. 

This  vast  continent,  or  New  World  of  the  Western  Hemisi^here,  lies 
between  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans,  the  former  separating  it  from 
Europe  and  Africa,  and  the  latter  from  Asia  and  Australia.  Its  immense 
rivers  and  prodigious  mountain  chains  are  quite  unequalled  in  the  world, 
and  the  bays,  lakes,  cataracts,  and  forests,  are  also  of  unrivalled  extent 
and  grandeur.  It  is  divided  into  North  and  South  America,  and  is  in 
length  about  9000  miles,  possessing,  of  course,  every  variety  of  climate, 
from  the  burning  heat  of  the  torrid  zone  to  the  intense  cold  of  the  arctic 
circle.  Since  its  discovery  by  Columbus,  vast  numbers  of  Europeans 
have  made  this  continent  their  home,  the  generality  being  attracted  hither 
by  the  capabilities  it  seemed  to  afford  them  of  enriching  themselves: 
America  has  also  been  an  asylum  for  the  victims  of  political  and  religious 
persecution.  [Abounding  with  every  production  necessary  for  the  com- 
fort and  convenience  of  man,  blessed  with  all  the  privileges  of  civil  ami 
religious  freedom,  this  new  country,  which  but  three  and  a  half  centuries 
ago  was  unknown  to  the  Eastern  World,  has  risen  to  a  height  of  pros- 
perity almost  unexampled  in  the  history  of  nations,  and  the  colonies  of 
the  United  States,  which,  less  than  a  hundred  years  since,  Great  Britain 
scarcely  considered  worthy  of  her  notice,  has  shaken  off  her  authority 
and  now  proudly  fling  out  their  banners  side  by  side  with  those  of  the 
mother  country,  in  every  clime,  and  already  threaten  to  dispute  with  her 
the  pre-eminence  she  so  justly  claims  upon  the  seas.  Untrammelled  with 
the  wrecks  of  tottering  or  fallen  dynasties,  the  citizens  of  this  new  repub- 
lic are  working  out  upon  an  extensive  scale  the  great  problem  of  self- 
government.] 


A  SERIES  OF  SEPARATE  HISTORIES. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND. 


The  propriety  of  commencing  onr  leries  of  separate  histories  with  B  nol and  muit,  w« 
think,  be  obvioasto  every  reader.  It*  rank  in  the  icale  of  nationi;  its  unrivalled  com- 
merce and  extensive  foreign  posgessions ;  its  naval  and  military  prowess ;  and  the  inte^ 
ligence,  enterprize,  and  industry  of  its  inhabitants — fully  entitle  it  to  the  bono '  of  prece- 
dence. But  this  is  not  all;  the  love  of  our  country  excites  in  ns  a  laudable  'cariosity  to 
inquire  into  the  conduct  and  condition  of  oar  ancestors,  and  to  become  acqnaintud  with  th« 
memorable  events  of  their  history  ;  while  our  reverence  for  the  glorious  Constitution  by 
which  onr  most  valuable  privileges  are  secured,  prompts  us  in  an  especial  manner  to  traoa 
its  rise  and  progress,  and  thoroughly  to  ascertain  upon  what  foundation  our  political  and 
religions  liberties  are  based.  "  If  an  Englishman,"  said  the  great  Frederic  of  Prussia, 
"  h.'«9  no  knowledge  of  those  kings  that  filled  the  throne  of  Persia,  if  his  memory  is  not  em- 
barrassed with  that  infinite  nnmberof  popes  that  ruled  the  church,  we  are  ready  to  excuse 
him ;  bui  we  shall  hardly  have  the  same  indulgence  for  him,  if  he  is  a  stranger  to  the 
origin  of  parliaments,  to  the  customs  of  his  country  and  to  the  different  lines  of  kings  who 
have  reigned  in  England." 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   BRITISH   AND   ROHAN   PERIOD — TO  THE   SUBJUOATION    OF   THE    ISLAND 

BT    THE    SAXONS. 

Thb  rule  laid  down  by  the  celebrated  historian,  David  Hume,  for  hu 
treatment  of  early  British  history,  is  so  reasonable,  so  obviously  the  only 
rule  by  which  the  historian  can  avoid  disfiguring  his  narrative  of  realities 
by  connecting  it  with  fables  and  figments,  that  it  would  be  to  the  last  de- 
gree unwise  to  depart  from  it,  even  were  it  laid  down  by  a  wril-jr  of  far 
less  celebrity  and  genius. 

We  cannot  better  account  for  the  silence  with  which  we  pass  over  the 
very  early  ages  of  Britain,  than  by  quoting  the  short  paragraph  in  which 
the  eminent  writer  to  whom  we  have  referred,  at  once  suggests  and  vindi- 
cates that  course. 

"  The  fables,"  says  he,  "  which  are  commonly  employed  to  suiiply  th« 
pjlace  of  true  history,  ought  to  be  entirely  disregarded ;  or  if  any  excep* 
tion  be  admitted  to  this  general  rule,  it  can  only  be  in  favour  of  the  ancient 
Grecian  fictions,  which  are  so  celebrated  and  so  agreeable,  that  they  will 
ever  be  the  objects  of  the  general  attention  of  mankind.  Neglecting, 
therefore,  ail  traditions,  or  rather  tales,  concerning  the  more  early  histo- 
ry of  Britain,  we  shall  only  consider  the  state  of  the  inhabitants  as  it  ap- 
peared to  the  Romans  on  their  invasion  of  this  country.  We  shall 
brieflv  run  over  the  events  which  attended  the  conquest  made  by  that 
Vol.  i.— 7 


48 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


empire  as  belonging  mote  to  Roman  than  to  British  story.     We  shall 
hasten  through  the  obscure  and  uninteresting  period  of  Sa  on  annals,  and 
shall  reserve  a  more  full  narration  for  those  times  when  the  truth  is  both 
so  well  ascertained  and  so  complete  as  to  promise  entertainment  and  in 
structiun  to  the  reader." 

That  Britain,  like  Gaul,  was  originaliy  inhabited  by  a  tribe  oftheCeltae, 
IS  as  well  ascertained  as  such  a  remote  fact  can  be  with  respect  to  a  peo- 
ple destitute  of  letters ;  language,  manners,  government  (such  as  it  was), 
and  religion,  all  tend  to  show  ther  common  origin.  But  the  Britons,  from 
their  insular  situation,  retained  their  full  rudeness  and  their  primitive  man* 
ners  and  customs  long  after  the  Gauls,  from  their  intercourse  with  the  in- 
habitants of  other  parts  of  the  continent,  had  considerably  improved  in 
both  respects. 

The  British  people  were  divided  into  many  kmgdoms  or  tribes ;  and 
though  each  tribe  had  :i  monarch,  each  monarchy  was  principally  founded 
upon  physical  force,  and  of  course  greatly  tempered  by  it.  For  despotism, 
indeed,  there  was  but  little  opportunity,  whatever  the  inclination  of  the 
king.  War  was  the  principal  occupation  of  tribe  against  tribe,  and  hunt- 
ing at  once  the  chief  amusement;  and,  next  to  the  feeding  of  flocks  and 
herds,  the  most  important  means  of  subsistence.  Wandering  hither  and 
thither  in  search  of  pasture  for  their  cattle,  these  wild  tribes  were  perpet- 
ually coming  into  collision  with  each  other ;  and  so  frequent  and  fierce 
were  their  wars,  that  but  for  the  interference  of  the  Druids — in  this  respect 
a  body  of  men  as  useful  as  in  many  other  respects  they  were  mischievous — 
their  mutual  rancour  would  have  proceeded  well-nigh  to  mutual  annihila- 
tion. 

Though  we  have  stated  the  Britons  to  have  been  free  from  kingly  des- 
potism— though,  in  fact,  the  king  was  only  the  first  freeman  of  a  tribe  of 
freemen,  there  yet  was  a  despotism,  and  a  terrible  one,  for  both 
king  and  people — the  despotism  of  the  Druids.  The  Druids  were  the 
priests  of  the  Britons ;  and  they  were  also  their  teachers,  their  lawgivers 
and  their  magistrates ;  and  the  peculiar  tenets  which  were  inculcated  upon 
the  British  from  their  earliest  childhood,  were  such  as  to  render  the  Druid 
priests  omnipotent,  as  far  as  the  term  can  be  applied  to  men  and  man's  at- 
tributes. He  *\  ho  dared  to  offend  the  Druid  priest  in  any  one  of  his  multi- 
farious officos,  lost  all  peace  in  this  world,  even  if  his  life  were  spared; 
he  was  ex  communicated,  utterly  and  hopelessly  ;  shunned  by  his  fellow- 
men,  who  dared  neither  to  aid  nor  to  soothe  him,  he  could  but  retire  to 
the  deepest  solitudes  of  the  forest,  battle  for  his  precarious  existr'"e  with 
the  forest  brutes,  and  perish  like  them,  obscure  and  unregarded-  i  was 
the  pang  with  which  he  closed  his  eyes  forever  upon  this  wor»  .gated 
by  any  bright  and  cheering  hope  in  a  future  life.  The  metempsychosis 
had  been  a  part  of  his  belief  from  infancy,  and  he  who  died  under  the  fear- 
ful ban  of  the  Druids  died  in  the  assured  and  terrible  conviction  that  he  would 
live  forever  under  successive  forms,  each  more  obscene  and  contemptible 
or  more  hated,  persecuted,  and  tortured,  than  that  which  had  preceded  it. 
With  such  means  of  upholding  their  power  over  a  rude  people,  it  will 
easily  be  believed  that  the  Druids  had  little  trouble  in  ruling  both  king  and 
subjects.  And,  detestable  as  were  their  cruel  sacrifices  of  human  victims, 
this  exceeding  power  over  the  minds  of  the  people  was  so  far  valuable, 
that  it  supplied  the  want  of  more  legitimate  power  to  prevent  wild  courage 
proceeding  to  frenzied  ferocity,  and  to  prevent  war  from  being  prosecuted 
to  the  extent  of  extermination. 

Humanity  can  never  fail  to  regret  the  miseries  and  the  crimes  that 
characterize  wars,  or  to  detest  the  injustice  and  the  nisolence  of  the 
feeling  which  prompts  the  strong  to  trample  upon  the  weak,  and  the 
wealthy  to  plunder  the  poor.  But,  while  we  necessarily  look  with  these 
feelings  upon  inv^ion  and  war  in  the  abstract,  we  must  not  close  our  eyes 


fe 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


M 


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that 

the 

the 

hese 

eyes 


to  the  fact,  that  the  sufferings,  however  great,  of  a  barbarous  people  inva* 
ded  and  overrun  by  a  civilized  people,  are  but  temporary,  and  are  follow- 
ed and  more  than  counterbalanced  by  a  permanent  deliverance  from  the 
squalid  miseries  and  the  mental  darkness  by  which  savage  life  is  every- 
wnere  characterized.  The  poet  may  tune  his  harmonious  lay  to  the  bli»$ 
of  those  primeval  ages, 

"  When  wild  in  woods  the  noble  Bavage  ran ;" 

But  the  sterner  pen  of  history,  informed  by  the  actual  experience  of  the 
voyager,  must  give  no  such  flattering  picture  of  barbarism.  Whether  in 
the  prairies  of  America,  or  in  the  wild  bush  of  New- Holland,  we  find  the 
savage  invariably  miserable  and  a  mere  animal ;  sif^erior  to  the  other  an- 
imals in  conformation,  but, alas!  even  more  subject  to  disease  and  famine 
than  they  are.  We  may  sympathize  with  the  terror  which  the  poor  sav 
age  feels  when  civilized  man  invades  his  haunts,  and  we  have  every  right 
to  demand  that  conquests  be  effected  with  the  least  possible  cruelty ;  but 
we  still  must  admit  that  it  may  become  a  great  and  enduring  mercy  to  the 
conquered. 

Britain,  whose  fleets  are  upon  every  sea,  and  upon  whose  conquests  and 
possessions  the  sun,  literally,  never  sets,  was  the  home  of  numerous 
tribes  of  mere  savages  long  after  the  miglity  name  of  Rome  was  heard 
with  awe  or  admiration,  with  love  or  hate,  in  every  civilized  nation  of  the 
earth. 

Dwelling  in  wattled  huts  of  the  meanest  construction,  most  of  these 
tribes  shifted  their  habitations  from  place  to  place  as  new  pastures  became 
necessary  for  their  cattle  ;  but  some  tribes  were  stationary  and  practised 
agriculture,  which,  though  of  the  rudest  kind,  served  to  improve  their  sub- 
sistence. 

Julius  O.Tsar,  the  renowned  Roman,  having  overrun  Gaul  at  the  head  of 
his  irresistible  legions,  had  his  attention  attracted  to  Britain  a.  c.  55.  He 
determined  to  conquer  it,  and  it  is  to  his  invasion  that  we  primarily  owe 
our  present  splendour  and  importance.  From  his  own  history  of  his  Gal- 
lic wars  it  is  that  we  chiefly  derive  our  knowledge  of  the  state  of  Britain; 
and  it  is  on  his  authority  t'>at  we  describe  its  rude  and  poor  condition. 
The  conquest  of  such  a  country  could  have  nothing  but  the  love  of  con- 
quest for  its  motive ;  but  to  a  Roman,  and,  above  all,  to  a  Ciesar,  that  mo- 
tive was  sufficient  to  incite  to  the  utmost  enterprise,  and  to  reconcile  to 
the  utmost  danger  and  the  utmost  suffering. 

Not  far  from  the  present  site  of  the  town  of  Deal,  in  Kent,  Cajsar  made 
a  descent  upon  Britain.  The  savige  appearance  of  the  natives,  and  the 
fierce  reception  they  at  first  gave  to  their  invaders,  struck  a  temporary  ter- 
ror even  into  the  hearts  of  tiie  veteran  soldiers  of  Rome.  But  the  check 
was  only  momentary.  A  standard-bearer  leaped  upon  the  inhospitable 
shore,  and  the  legionaries  followed  their  eagle.  Caesar  advanced  some 
distance  into  the  country ;  but  every  mile  of  progress  was  made  under  the 
harrassing  attacks  of  the  natives,  whose  desultory  mode  of  warfare,  and 
their  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  wild  country,  made  them  formidable 
in  spite  of  their  want  of  discipline  and  the  rude  nature  of  their  arms.  But 
the  steady  perseverance  and  serried  ranks  of  the  Romans  enabled  them  still 
to  advance ;  and  they  gained  so  much  advantage,  that  when  Ca;sar  deemed 
it  necessary  to  return  to  his  wintei  quarters  in  Gaul,  he  was  able  to  ex- 
tort promises  of  a  peaceable  reception  when  he  should  think  proper  to  re- 
turn, and  received  hostages  for  their  fidelity.  He  withdrew  accordingly, 
and  the  Britons,  ignorant,  and,  like  all  barbarous  people,  incapable  of  look- 
ing forward  to  distant  consequences,  flagrantly  failed  to  perform  their  en- 
Eagements.  Disobedience  was  what  the  Roman  power  would  not  At  that  time 
ave  brooked  fronj  a  pa  >ple  far  more  civilized  and  powerful  Ihar  the  Brit. 


100 


THE  THBA8URY  OF  HiaTORY. 


3ni,  and  Caesar  early  in  the  ensuing  summer  again  made  his  appearance 
on  the  coast  of  Kent.  On  this  occasion  he  Tound  a  more  regular  and  or 
ganized  force  awaiting  him ;  several  powerful  tribes  having  laid  asidi 
their  domestic  and  petty  differences,  and  united  themselves  under  Cassi 
belaunus,  a  brave  man,  and  so  superior  to  the  majority  of  the  Uritinh  king> 
that  he  was  possessed  of  their  general  respect  and  confidence,  Dut  mere 
valour  could  aviil  little  against  the  soldiery  of  Rome,  inured  to  hardships 
rather  enjoying  than  fearing  danger,  thoroughly  dis(;iplined,  and  led  hv  si 
consummate  a  soldier  »s  Julius  Caisar.  The  Britons,  acordin^lv,  harrasS' 
ed  him  in  his  march,  and  disturbed  his  camp  with  frequent  nigrit-alarms, 
but  whenever  they  came  to  actual  battle  they  were  ever  defeated.  Hnd  with 
dreadful  loss.  This  time  Cscsar  made  his  way  fnr  into  the  country,  cross* 
ed  the  Thames  in  face  of  the  enemy,  and  in  despite  of  the  precaution  thev 
had  taken  to  stake  the  bed  of  the  river,  detroyed  the  capitnl  of  Cassibef' 
aunus,  and  established  as  king  of  the  Trinobantes  a  chieftain,  or  potty  king, 
named  Mandubratius,  who,  chiefly  in  disgust  of  some  ill  treatment,  real  or 
imagined,  which  he  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  his  felh)w-countrymen, 
had  allied  himself  with  theRom-nns. 

But  though  Caesar  was  thus  far  successful,  the  wild  nature  of  the  coun 
try  and  the  nomadic  habits  of  the  people  prevented  him  from  achieving 
anything  more  than  a  nunnnal  conquest  of  the  island.  He  was  obliged 
to  content  himself,  once  more,  with  the  promises  which  the  isliindcrs  the 
more  readily  made  him,  because  they  never  intended  to  fulfil  them,  and 
he  again  left  the  island,  never  to  return  to  it ;  for  the  domestic  trouble! 
of  Rome,  greatly  caused  by  his  own  ambition  and  daring  genius,  left  nei- 
ther him  nor  the  Roman  people  any  leisure  to  attend  to  a  poor  and  re- 
mote island.  His  successor,  the  great  Augustus,  was  wisely  of  opinion 
that  it  rather  behoved  Rome  to  preserve  order  in  her  already  vast  enipiret 
than  to  extend  its  bounds.  Tiberius  was  of  the  same  opinion  ;  and  Cal- 
igula, flighty  and  flckle,  if  not  absoluttHy  mad,  though  he  made  a  demon 
stration  of  completing  the  work  which  Caesar  had  bcyun,  seized  no  spoiK 
more  valuable  than  cockle-shells,  inflicted  only  a  fright  upon  the  Britons, 
and  gave  Rome  nothing  for  the  vast  expense!  of  his  eccentric  expedition, 
save  materials  for  many  a  merry  pasquinade  and  hearty  laugh. 

For  nearly  a  century  after  the  first  descent  of  Cajsar,  the  Britons  en- 
joyed peace  unbroken,  save  by  their  own  petty  disputes.  But  in  the  reign 
of"^  the  emperor  ("laudius,  a.  d.  43,  the  design  of  conquering  the  island  of 
Britain  was  again  revived,  and  Plautius,  a  veteran  general,  landed  and 
fairly  established  himself  and  his  legionaries  in  the  country.  As  soon  as 
he  received  tidings  of  the  success  and  position  of  his  general,  Claudius 
himself  came  over;  and  the  Cantii,  the  Regni,  the  Trinobantes,  and  other 
tribes  of  the  south-eastern  part  of  the  island,  made  their  formal  submis- 
sion to  him,  and  this  time,  probably,  with  something  like  sm:v.r\iy,  a*, 
they  had  experienced  the  power  of  the  Roman  arms,  and  the  superiority 
of  the  Roman  discipline. 

The  more  inland  Britons,  however,  were  still  fiercely  determined  to 
maintain  their  liberty  and  preserve  their  territory;  and  several  tribes  of 
them,  united  under  the  command  of  Caractacus,  a  man  of  courage  and 
of  conduct  superior  to  what  could  be  anticipated  in  a  mere  barbarian, 
made  a  stout  resistance  to  ail  attempts  of  the  Romans  to  extend  their 
progress  and  power;  a.  d.  50.  Indignant  that  mere  barbarians  should 
sven  in  a  slight  degree  limit  the  flight  of  the  destroying  eagle,  the  Ro- 
mans now  sent  over  reinforcements  under  the  command  of  Ostorius  Sca- 
pula, whose  vigorous  conduct  soon  changed  the  face  of  afl'airs.  He  beat 
the  Britons  farther  and  farther  back  at  every  encounter,  and  penetrated 
into  the  country  of  the  Silures  (now  forming  part  of  South  Wales),  and 
here  in  a  general  engagement  he  completely  routed  them  and  took  a  vart 
Dumber  of  pr  soners,  among  whom  was  the  brave  Caractacus. 


§ 


THE  TREASUAY  OF  HISTORY. 


101 


This  bravo  though  unfortunate  prince  was  sent  to  Rome.  Arrived  in 
that  mighty  city,  he  was  scarcely  more  astonished  at  the  vast  wealth  and 
grandeur  which  it  contained,  than  at  the  cupidity  o(  the  possessors  o( 
such  a  city,  and  their  strange  desire  to  deprive  a  people  so  poor  as  the 
Britons  of  their  wild  liberty  and  wattled  huts.  It  is  to  the  honour  of  the 
Romans  of  that  day,  that  Caractacus  was  treated  with  a  generosity  which 
was  at  once  equal  to  his  merits,  and  in  strong  contrast  with  the  treat' 
ment  which  Rome  usually  reserved  for  defeated  kings  who  had  dared  to 
oppose  her.  And  this  generosity  of  the  Romans  to  Caractacus  individ- 
ually, is  the  more  creditable  and  the  more  remarkable,  because  his  cap- 
ture by  no  means  prevented  his  compatriots  from  continuing  the  strug- 
gle. Though  always  distressed,  and  often  decisively  worsted,  the  Britons 
still  fought  bravely  on  for  every  acre  of  their  fatherland ;  and  as  they 
improved  in  their  style  of  fighting,  even  in  consequence  of  the  defeats 
they  received,  Britain  was  still  considered  a  battle-field  worthy  of  the 
presence  of  the  best  officers  and  hardiest  veterans  of  Rome. 

Irritated  at  the  comparatively  slow  progress  of  their  arms  against  so 
poor  and  rude  a  people,  the  Romans  now  gave  the  chief  command  o( 
their  troops  in  Britain  to  Suetonius  Paulinus,  a  man  of  equal  courage 
and  conduct,  and  noted  even  among  that  warlike  race  for  unwavering 
sternness.  This  general  perceived  the  true  cause  of  the  British  perti- 
nacity of  resistance  in  the  face  of  so  many  decisive  defeats  and  severe 
chastisements.  That  cause,  the  only  one,  probably,  which  could  so  long 
have  kept  such  rude  people  united  and  firm  under  misfortune,  was  the 
religious  influence  of  the  Druids,  whose  terrible  anger  had  more  terror 
for  their  deluded  followers  than  even  the  warlike  prowess  and  strange 
arms  of  the  Romans.  Suetonius,  then,  determined  to  strike  at  the  very 
root  of  British  obstinacy ;  and  as  the  little  isle  of  Anglesey,  then  called 
Mona,  was  the  chief  resort  of  the  Druids,  he  proceeded  to  attack  it,  right- 
ly judging  that  by  making  a  terrible  example  of  the  chief  S3at  of  their 
religioii  and  their  priests,  he  should  strike  more  terror  into  the  refractory 
Britons  than  by  defeating  them  in  a  hundred  desultory  battles.  His  land- 
mg  was  not  effected  without  considerable  difficulty ;  for  here  the  naturally 
brave  Britons  fought  under  the  very  eyes  of  their  powerful  and  dreaded 
priests,  and  with  the  double  motive  of  desire  to  win  their  praise,  and 
terror  of  incurring  an  anger  which  they  believed  to  be  potent  in  the  fu- 
ture world  as  in  this.  Urged  by  such  considerations,  the  Britons  fought 
with  unexampled  fury  and  determination,  and  the  priests  and  priestesses 
mmgled  in  the  ranks,  shrieking  strange  curses  upon  the  invaders,  waving 
flaming  torches,  and  presenting  so  unearthly  and  startling  an  appearance 
that  many  of  the  Roman  soldiers,  who  would  have  looked  coolly  upon 
certain  death,  were  struck  with  a  superstitious  awe,  and  half  imagined 
that  they  were  actually  engaged  in  personal  warfare  with  the  tutelar  de- 
mons of  their  mortal  foes.  But  Suetonius  was  as  disdainful  of  super- 
stitious terrors  as  of  actual  danger,  and  his  exhortations  and  example  in- 
spired his  men  to  exertions  that  speedily  put  the  ill-armed  and  undiscip- 
lined Britons  to  flight. 

The  worst  crime  of  which  the  Druids  were  guilty,  was  that  of  offering 
to  their  gods  human  sacriflces.  Even  in  time  of  peace,  victims  selected 
by  the  Druids,  either  in  actual  malice  or  in  mere  wanton  recklessness,  fed 
the  devouring  flames.  But  it  was  more  especially  in  war  time  that  these 
truly  horrible  sacrifices  were  frequent,  and  the  victims  numerous.  Con- 
fident in  their  hope  of  defeating  the  Romans  by  force,  and  the  terrors  of 
their  superstition,  the  Druids  of  Mona  on  this  occasion  had  promised  their 
cruel  deities  a  plenteous  sacrifice.  The  fires  were  prepared — but  they 
who  were  to  have  been  the  ministering  priests  became  the  victims ;  for 
Suetonius,  as  cruel  as  those  against  whom  he  fought,  burned  the  captive 
Druids  at  their  own  altars.    Having  wreaked  this  cruel  vengeance,  and 


109 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


cut  down  or  burned  the  dense  groves  in  which  the  Druids  had  lor  Hgeti 
performed  the  dark  rites  of  their  mysterious  religion,  he  left  Anglesey 
and  returned  into  Britain,  confident  that  the  blow  he  had  thus  struck  at 
the  most  venerated  seat  of  the  British  faith  would  so  shake  the  courage 
and  confidence  of  its  votaries,  that  he  would  have  for  the  future  onl^  a 
aeries  of  easy  triumphs.  But  his  absence  from  the  main  island  might 
have  been  of  more  disparagement  to  his  cause  tlian  his  feats  at  Mona  had 
been  to  its  advantage.  Profiting  by  their  brief  freedom  from  his  pres- 
ence, the  scattered  tribes  of  the  Britons  had  reunited  themselves,  and  un 
der  a  leader,  who,  though  a  woman,  was  formidable  both  by  natural  char- 
acter and  shameful  provocation. 

Boadicea,  widow  of  the  king  of  the  Iceni,  having  oflTended  a  Roman 
tribune  by  the  spirit  with  whicni  she  upheld  her  own  and  her  subject's 
rights,  was  treated  with  a  shameful  brutality,  amply  sufficient  to  have 
maddened  a  far  feebler  spirit.  She  herself  was  scourged  in  the  presence 
of  the  Roman  soldiers,  amid  their  insulting  Jeers,  and  her  three  daughters, 
scarcely  arrived  at  the  age  of  womanhood,  were  subjected  to  still  more 
brutal  outrage. 

Haughty  and  fierce  of  spirit  even  beyond  the  wont  of  her  race,  Boadicea 
vowed  that  the  outrages  to  which  she  had  been  subjected  should  be  amply 
avenged  in  Aoman  blood;  and  the  temporary  absence  of  Suetonius  from 
Britain  was  so  well  employed  by  her,  that  he  found  on  his  arrival  from 
Mona  that  she  was  at  the  head  of  an  immense  army,  which  had  already 
reduced  to  utter  ruin  several  of  the  Ronian  settlements.     The  safety  of 
London,  which  was  already  a  place  of  considerable  importance,  was  his 
first  care ;  but  though  he  marched  thither  with  all  possible  rapidity,  he 
was  not  able  to  save  it  from  the  flames  to  which  Boadicea  had  doomed  it, 
and  all  those  of  its  inhabitants  who  were  not  furtunate  enough  to  make 
a  timely  escape.     Nor  was  the  Roman  discomfiture  confined  to  London 
or  its  neighbourhood.    Successful  in  various  directions,  the  Britons  were 
as  unsparing  as  successful ;  and  it  is  affirmed — though  the  number  has 
always  appeared  to  us  to  be  very  greatly  exaggerated — that  of  Romans 
and  the  various  strangers  who  had  accompanied  or  followed  them  to 
Britain,  no  fewer  than  70,000  perished  in  this  determined  and  sanguinary 
endeavour  of  the  Britons  to  drive  the  invaders  from  their  shores.    Even 
allowing  somewhat  for  the  error  or  exaggeration  of  early  historians,  it  is 
certain  that  the  loss  inflicted  upon  the  Romans  and  their  adherents  by 
Boadicea,  was  immense.    But  the  return  of  Suetonius  inspired  his  coun- 
trymen with  new  spirit,  and  the  tide  of  fortune  soon  left  the  native  island- 
ers.   Flushed  with  numerous  successes,  and  worked  up  to  a  frenzy  of 
enthusiasm  even  by  the  cruel  use  which  they  had  made  of  their  success, 
they  collected  all  their  forces  for  one  final  and  mighty  effort.    Suetonius 
and  Boadicea  in  person  commanded  their  respective  forces.    The  latter 
harangued  her  troops  with  great  spirit;  the  former  contented  himself 
with  making  his  arrangements  with  consummate  art,  well  knowing  that 
his  legionaries  required  no  exhortation  to  strike  hard  and   home  at  an 
enemy  that  had  put  the  Roman  eagle  to  flight,  and  make  earth  drink  deep 
of  the  proud  Roman  blood.     The  battle  was  obstinate  and  terrible ;  but 
once  again  the  marvellous  superiority  of  discipline  over  mere  numbers 
and  courage,  however  vast  the  one  or  enthusiastic  the  other,  was  striking- 
ly displayed.    The  dense  masses  of  the  Britons  were  pierced  and  broken 
by  the  Roman  phalanx ;  the  defeat  became  a  rout — the  rout  a  massacre. 
Boadicea  escaped  from  the  field  by  the  swiftness  of  the  horses  of  her 
own  chariot ;  but  despairing  of  ever  again  being  able  to  make  head  against 
the  detested  invaders  of  her  country,  and  preferring  death  to  falling  again 
into  the  hands  of  those  who  had  so  mercilessly  maltreated  both  herself 
and  her  daughters,  she  swallowed  a  potent  poison,  and  when  c  vertaken  by 
the  pursuing  soldiers,  was  beyond  their  malice,  being  then  in  the  agonies 
of  death. 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORf. 


103 


Though  Seutonius  had  achieved  great  successes  in  Britian,  he  had  done 
■o  only  at  the  expense  of  such  extraordinary  losses  and  cruelty  on  both 
sides,  that  Nero  recalled  him  from  his  government,  apparently  under  the 
impression  that  his  excessive  sternness  and  severity  unAtteu  him  for  & 
wst  in  which  it  was  not  merely  necessary  to  know  how  to  combat  the 
resisting,  but  also  how  to  conciliate  the  conquered.  Two  or  three  other 
generals  were  briefly  entrusted  with  this  dimcult  and  delicate  post,  which 
they  filled  with  credit  to  themselves  and  the  Roman  name;  but  it  was  the 
good  fortune  of  Vespasian,  through  the  prowess  and  judgment  of  his  fa 
mous  general,  Julius  Agricola,  completely  to  subdue  Britain  to  the  Roman 
dominion. 

A  consummate  soldier,  Julius  Agricola  was  no  less  consummate  as  a 
civil  governor;  and  while  he  led  his  victorious  legions  against  the  Britons, 
driving  farther  and  farther  backwards  to  the  bleak  rocks  and  forests  of 
Caledonia  those  who  did  not  perish  in  the  field,  or  were  too  proud  to  do 
homage  to  their  conqueror,  he  showed  himself  admirably  fitted  for  the 

Eeculiar  duties  to  which  he  had  been  appointed,  by  the  sKill  with  which 
e  made  kindness  and  liberality  to  the  submissive  go  hand  in  hand  with 
stern  severity  to  those  who  still  dared  to  resist  the  Roman  arms.  Having 
followed  the  more  obstinate  of  the  Britons  from  post  to  post,  and  defeated 
their  collected  force  under  Galgacus  in  a  pitched  battle,  he  erected  a  chain 
of  forts  between  the  Frith  of  h  orth  and  that  of  Clyde,  and  thus  divided  the 
northern  retreat  of  the  hostile  Britons  from  the  southern  parlp,  that  now 
formed  a  great  and  settled  Roman  province. 

In  this  province  the  British  inhabitants  were  by  this  time  but  little  in 
clined  to  give  any  farther  trouble  to  their  all-powerful  conquerors,  of 
whose  warlike  prowess  they  had  seen  too  many  proofs  to  give  them  even 
a  faint  hope  of  successful  resistance.  Moreover,  Agricola  skilfully  and 
assiduously  availed  himself  of  their  peaceable  disposition  to  instruct 
them  in  the  Roman  tongue,  as  well  as  in  the  Roman  habits  and  arts.  His 
efforts  in  this  direction  were,as  successful  iis  his  former  exertions  to  put 
down  resistance  had  been  ;  and  both  London  and  the  smaller  places  soon 
:)egan  to  wear  a  busy  and  civilized  aspect.  The  skill  with  which  the  Ro- 
mans incorporated  with  themselves  even  the  rudest  and  most  intractable 
people,  when  they  had  once  by  their  conquering  prowess  fairly  got  fooling 
among  them,  was  to  the  full  as  astonishing  and  admirable  as  that  prowess 
itself.  The  Romans  from  time  to  time  strengthened  the  northern  fortifi- 
cations of  Britain,  and  thus  prevented  any  inroad  from  the  still  untamed 
hordes  native  to  Scotland  or  sheltered  there ;  and  the  southern  Britons 
were  so  fully  contented  with  their  situation,  and  became  so  perfectly  in- 
corporated with  their  conquerors,  and  initiated  into  their  habits  and  feel- 
ings, that  the  only  disturbances  we  read  of  in  Britain  during  a  ^  f^^x  series 
of  years  arose,  not  from  insurgent  attempts  on  the  part  of  the  Buiciis,  but 
from  the  turbulence  of  the  Roman  soldiers,  or  from  the  ambition  o.  some 
Roman  governor,  who,  made  presuming  by  holding  high  state  and  author- 
ity in  so  distant  a  province,  was  induced  to  assume  the  purple  and  claim 
the  empire. 

The  wonderful  improvement  made  in  the  condition  of  Britain  by  the 
residence  of  the  Romans  was  at  length  brought  to  a  period.  The  barbaric 
hosts  of  the  north  were  now  pressing  so  fiercely  and  so  terribly  upon  Rome 
herself,  that  the  old  and  long  sacred  rule  of  the  Roman  senate,  never  to 
contract  the  limits  of  the  empire  by  abandoning  a  colony  once  planted, 
was  obliged  to  be  disregarded.  The  outlying  legions  were  wanted  for  the 
defence  of  the  very  heart  of  the  empire ;  and  the  insular  situation  of  Brit- 
ain, and  its  very  slight  consequence  with  respect  to  wealth,  naturally 
pointed  it  out  as  a  colony  to  be  earliest  and  with  the  least  regret  abandoned. 
Scarcely  had  the  Roman  legions  departed  when  the  Britons  were  assailed 
bv  the  Picts  and  Scots.    The  chain  of  northern  forts  was  strong  and  a(^ 


IM 


THE  TRBASI/RY  OF  HISTORY. 


mirably  planned,  but  hardy  and  warlike  defenaers  were  no  less  necessary, 
and  the  Britons  had  so  long  been  acrubtomed  to  look  for  all  military  seN 
▼ice  to  the  veterans  who  had  dwelt  among  them,  that  they  had  lost 
much  of  their  ancient  valour,  and  were  no  match  for  the  fierce  barbarians 
whose  bodies  were  as  little  enervated  by  luxury  aa  their  minds  were  un« 
tamed  by  any  approach  to  letters  or  politeness. 

An  appeal  to  Rome,  where  an  interest  in  Britani  was  not  yet  wholly 
lost  in  the  more  pressing  instincts  of  self-preservation,  was  answered  by 
the  immediate  despatch  of  a  legion,  which  drove  away  the  barbarians 
The  departure  of  the  Romans  was  immediately  followed  by  a  new  incur 
sion ;  aid  was  again  sent  from  Rome,  and  the  enemy  again  was  driven 
back.  But  the  situation  of  the  Roman  empire  was  now  so  critical,  that 
even  a  single  legion  could  no  longer  be  spared  from  home  defence,  and 
the  Romans,  having  put  the  northern  fortifications  into  repair,  exhorted  the 
Britons  to  defend  themselves  with  perseverance  and  valour,  and  took 
their  final  leave  of  them  in  the  year  448,  after  having  been  masters  of  the 
island,  and  exerted  their  civilizing  influence  upon  its  inhabitants,  for  very 
nearly  four  centuries. 

It  had  been  well  for  the  Britons  if  they  had  not  been  in  the  habit  of  re 
lying  so  implicitly  upon  the  Romans  for  defence.     Now  that  Rome  left 
them  thus  suddenly  and  completely  to  their  own  mastery,  they  were  in 
precisely  the  worst  possible  stage  of  transition  to  fit  them  for  a  struggle 
with  their  more  barbarous  northern  neighbours ;  they  had  lost  much  of  the 
fierce  and  headlong  valour  of  barbarians,  without  acquiring  the  art  and 
discipline  of  civilized  warriors,  and  they  had  just  so  much  of  wealth  and 
luxury  as  sufllced  to  tempt  cupidity.    Many  of  their  boldest  and  most  vig- 
orous youth  had  either  been  incorporated  in  the  Roman  soldiery,  or  had 
fallen  in  support  of  Gratian  and  Constantine  in  their  ill-fated  pretensions 
to  the  impei'ial  throne.     The  northern  barbarians,  ever  on  the  watch,  soon 
became  aware  that  the  Roman  legion,  before  which  their  untrained  hosts 
had  been  compelled  to  give  way,  had  departed ;  and  they  forthwith  assem- 
bled in  vast  numbers  and  again  assailed  the  northern  fortifications.     To 
men  so  long  unaccustomed  as  the  Britons  were  to  self-defence,  the  very 
consciousness  of  having  to  rely  wholly  upon  their  own  valour  and  pru- 
dence, had  an  appalling  and  bewildering  effect.    They  made  but  a  feeble 
and  disorderly  resistance,  were  speedily  beaten  from  their  forts,  and  then 
fled  onward  in  panic,  leaving  the  country  as  they  passed  through  it  to  the 
mercy  of  the  savage  invaders.    The  behavior  of  these  was  precisely  what 
might  have  been  expected  ;  the  sword  and  the  torch  marked  their  foot- 
steps, hamlet  and  town  were  razed  and  ruined,  and  the  blackness  of  deso 
lation  was  seen  in  the  field.=»  which  had  lately  been  covered  with  the  wealth 
of  harvest.     Beaten  at  every  point  at  which  they  attempted  to  make  head 
against  their  enemies,  and  seeing  in  the  terrible  rage  with  which  they 
were  pursued  and  harassed,  no  prospect  but  that  of  utter  and  irredeemable 
ruin,  the  unfortunate  Britons  sent  an  embassy  to  Rome  to  implore  aid 
once  more.     Their  missive,  which  was  entitled  The  Groans  of  the  Britons, 
graphically  paints  their  situation  and  their  feelings.    "The  barbarians" 
said  this  missive,  "on  the  one  hand,  chase  us  into  the  sea,  the  sea  on  the 
other  hand  throws  us  back  upon  the  barKsrians;  and  we  have  only  the 
hard  choice  left  us  of  perishing  by  the  sword  or  by  the  waves." 

But  Atlila,  that  terrible  Scourge  of  Ood,  as  he  profanely  boasted  him 
self,  was  now  pushing  Rome  herself  to  mortal  extremity ;  and  had  Britain 
been  even  rich  and  important,  not  a  legion  could  have  been  prudently 
spared  at  this  crisis  for  its  defence.  Being  poor  and  insignificant,  it  ol 
course  could  not  for  an  instant  claim  the  attention  of  those  who  were 
combating  for  the  safRty  of  the  empire,  and  who  had  already  begun  to  des- 
pair of  it.  Whei.  Jritons  found  that  they  were  indeed  finally  aban- 
doned by  Rome,  they  lost  all  heart,  deserted  even  their  strongest  points 


n 

a 


I 


CX 
a 


^imrM*'*-' 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


lUfr 


of  defence,  anci  fled  to  the  concealment  of  their  hilla  und  forrsti,  leaving 
their  houses  ami  property  to  the  mercy  of  their  enemies.  These,  in  their 
profusion  and  in  the  WHulonncss  of  their  ilcstruction,  stKin  drew  upon 
themselves  the  pangs  of  actual  want,  and  then  abandoned  the  country 
which  they  had  thus  converted  into  a  desert,  and  carried  all  tliat  was 
moveable  of  use  or  oniHtncnt  to  their  northern  homes. 

When  the  enemy  had  completely  retired  from  the  country  the  Britons 
ventured  forth  from  their  retreats  ;  and  their  industry,  exerted  under  the 
influence  of  the  most  instant  and  important  events,  soon  removed  the 
worst  features  of  ruin  and  devastation  from  their  country.  But  as  they 
remained  as  unwarlike  as  ever,  and  were  divided  into  numerous  petty 
communities,  whose  chiefs  were  at  perpetual  discord,  their  returning  pros* 
perity  was  merely  an  invitation  to  their  barbarous  neighlMiurs  to  make  a 
new  inroad  upon  people  ingenious  enough  to  create  wealth,  but  not  hardy 
enough  trt  defend  it. 

To  Rome  it  was  now  quite  dearly  of  no  use  to  apply ;   and  Vortigcrn, 

Erince  of  Danmonium,  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  petty  kings  of 
Iritain,  who  was  very  influential  on  account  of  his  talents  and  possessions, 
though  of  an  exceedingly  odious  character,  proposed  to  send  to  Germany 
and  invite  over  a' force  of  Haxons  to  serve  as  the  hired  defenders  of  Britain. 

As  a  general  rule,  calling  in  a  foreign  force  is  to  be  deprecated  ;  but,  sit- 
uated as  the  Britons  were,  we  do  not  see  what  alternative  they  had  be- 
tween doing  BO  and  being  either  exterminated  by  the  barbarians  or  reduced 
to  their  own  wretched  and  rude  condition.  It  must,  indeed,  have  been  ob- 
vious to  Vortigern,  and  all  other  men  of  ability,  that  there  was  some  dan- 
ger that  they  who  were  sent  for  to  defend,  might  remain  to  oppress.  But 
this  was  a  distant  and  a  merely  problematical  danger;  that  with  which 
they  were  threatened  by  the  barbarians  was  certain,  instant,  and  utterly 
ruinous ;  and  even  had  both  dangers  been  on  a  par  as  to  certainty,  the 
Saxons,  as  less  rude  and  barbarous,  were  preferable  as  tyrants  to  the  Picts 
and  Scots. 

The  Saxons  had  long  been  famous  for  their  prowess.  Daring  in  the 
fight  and  skilful  in  seamanship,  they  had  made  descents  upon  the  sea-board 
of  most  countries,  and  had  never  landed  without  giving  the  inhabitants 
ample  reason  to  tremble  at  their  name  for  the  time  to  come.  Even  the 
Romans  had  so  often  and  so  severely  felt  their  mischievous  power,  that 
they  had  a  special  officer  called  the  Count  of  the  Saxon  Shore,  whose  pe- 
culiar duty  it  was  to  oppose  these  marauders  upon  their  own  proper  ele- 
ment, and  prevent  them  from  landing  on  the  Italian  shore. 

When  the  Britons  determined  to  apply  to  the  Saxons  for  aid,  two  broth 
ers,  by  name  Hengist  and  Horsa,  were  the  most  famous  and  respected 
warriors  among  that  warlike  people.  They  were  reputed  descendants  of 
the  god  Woden ;  and  this  fabulous  ancestry  joined  to  their  real  personal 
qualities  and  the  great  success  which  had  attended  them  in  their  piratical 
expeditions,  had  given  them  great  influence  over  the  most  daring  and  ad- 
venturous of  the  Saxons.  Perceiving  that  the  Romans  had  abandoned 
Britain,  they  were  actually  contemplating  a  descent  upon  that  island  when 
the  British  envoys  waited  upon  them  to  crave  their  aid  as  mercenaries. 
To  a  request  which  harmonized  so  well  with  their  own  views  mid  wishes 
the  brothers  of  course  gave  a  ready  assent,  and  speedily  arrived  at  the 
isle  of  Thanet  with  sixteen  hundred  followers,  inured  to  hardship  and  in 
love  with  danger  even  for  its  own  sake.  They  marclied  against  the  Picts 
and  Scots,  who  speedily  fled  before  men  whose  valour  was  as  impetuous 
as  their  own,  and  seconded  by  superior  arms  and  military  conduct. 

When  the  Britons  were  thus  once  more  delivered  from  the  rage  and 
cupidity  of  their  fierce  neighbours,  they  became  anxious  to  part  with  theij 
deliverers  on  such  friendly  terms  as  would  insure  their  future  aid  should 
It  be  required.     But  the  Saxon  leaders  had  seen  too  much  of  the  beauty 


106 


THE  TEEA8URY  OF  HWTOEY 


and  fertility  of  the  country,  and  of  the  weakness  and  divisions  of  its  own 
ers,  to  feel  any  inclination  to  take  their  departure ;  and  Hengist  and  Horsa, 
80  far  from  making  any  preparation  to  return  home,  sent  thither  for  rein- 
forcements, which  arrived  to  the  number  of  five  thousand  men,  in  seven- 
teen-war-ships.  The  Britons,  who  had  been  unable  to  resist  the  Picts  and 
Scots,  saw  the  hopelessness  of  attempting  to  use  force  for  the  expulsion 
of  people  as  brave  and  far  better  organized,  and  therefore,  though  not  with- 
out serious  fears  that  those  who  had  been  called  in  as  mercenary  soldiers 
would  prove  a  more  dangerous  enemy  than  the  one  they  had  so  fiercely 
and  effectually  combated,  the  Britons  aflected  the  most  unsuspecting 
friendship  and  yielded  to  every  encroachment  and  to  every  insolence  with 
the  best  grace  that  they  could  command.  But  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  con- 
ciliate men  who  are  anxiously  watching  for  a  plausible  excuse  for  quarrel 
and  outrage.  Some  disputes  which  arose  about  the  allowances  of  provi- 
sions for  which  the  Saxon  mercenaries  had  stipulated,  furnished  this  ex- 
cuse, and,  siding  with  the  Picts  and  Scots,  the  Saxons  openly  declared  war 
against  the  people  whom  they  had  been  liberally  subsidized  to  defend. 

Desperation  and  the  indignation  so  naturally  excited  by  the  treacherous 
conduct  of  their  quondam  allies,  roused  the  Britons  to  something  like  the 
vigour  and  spirit  of  their  warlike  ancestors.  Their  first  step  was  to  de- 
pose Vorligern,  who  was  before  unpopular  on  account  of  his  vicious  life, 
and  was  now  universally  hated  on  account  of  the  bad  consequences  of  the 
measure  he  had  recommended,  though,  as  we  have  already  observed,  when 
he  suggested  the  subsidizing  of  the  Saxons,  the  Britons  were  in  such  a 
position  that  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  suggest  a  better  measure.  His 
son  Vortimer,  who  had  a  reputation  for  both  courage  and  military  conduct, 
was  raised  to  the  supreme  command,  and  the  Britons  fought  several  battles 
with  great  courage  and  perseverance,  though  with  almost  invariable  ill  for 
tune.  The  Saxons  kept  advancing ;  and  though  Horsa  was  slain  at  the 
battle  of  Aylesford,  Hengist,  who  then  had  the  sole  command  of  the  Sax- 
ons, showed  himself  fully  equal  to  all  the  exigencies  of  his  post.  Steadi- 
ly advancing  upon  the  Britons,  he  at  the  same  time  sent  over  to  Germany 
for  reinforcements.  These  continued  to  arrive  in  immense  numbers,  and 
the  unfortunate  Britons,  worsted  in  every  encounter,  were  successively 
chased  to  and  from  every  part  of  their  country.  Whether  with  a  desire  to 
make  terror  do  the  work  of  the  sword  among  the  survivors,  or  with  a  real 
and  savage  intent  to  exterminate  the  Britons,  Horsa  made  it  an  invariable 
rule  to  give  no  quarter.  Wherever  he  conquered,  man,  woman,  and  child 
were  put  to  death ;  the  towns  and  hamlets  were  again  razed  or  burned, 
and  again  the  blackened  and  arid  fields  bore  testimony  to  the  presence  and 
the  unsparing  humour  of  a  conqueror. 

Dreadfully  reduced  in  numbers,  and  sufl^ering  every  description  of  priva- 
tion, the  unfortunate  Britons  now  lost  all  hope  of  combating  successful- 
ly. Some  submitted  and  accepted  life  on  the  hard  condition  of  tilling  as 
slaves  the  land  they  had  owned  as  freemen ;  others  took  refuge  in  the  moun- 
tain fastnesses  of  Wales,  and  a  still  more  considerable  number  sought  refuge 
in  the  province  of  Armorica  in  Gaul;  and  the  district  which  was  there  as- 
signed them  is  still  known  by  the  name  of  Britanny. 

ilengist  founded  the  kingdom  of  Kent,  which  at  first  comprised  not  only 
the  county  now  known  by  that  name,  but  also  those  of  Essex  and  Middlesex, 
and  a  portion  of  Surrey.  Being  still  occasionally  disturbed  by  revolts  of 
the  Biitous,  lie  settled  a  tribe  of  Saxons  in  Northumberland.  Other  north- 
ern tribes,  learning  the  success  of  Hengist.  and  his  followers,  came  over. 
The  earliest  of  these  was  a  tribe  of  Saxons,  who  came  over  in  the  year  477, 
anri,  alter  much  fighting  with  some  of  the  Britons  who  had  partially  reco- 
vered their  spirit,  founded  the  kingdom  of  Sussex.  This  kingdom,  of 
whicli  the  Saxon  Mlla.  was  the  founder  and  king,  included  the  present  coun- 
ty of  Sussex  and  also  that  of  Surrey. 


TUB  TREASUBY  OF  HISTORY. 


m 


Though  from  many  causes  there  is  considerable  difficulty  in  ascertain- 
ing the  exact  dates  of  the  events  of  the  very  earhest  Saxon  adventurers  in 
Britain,  it  is  pretty  certain  that  the  victorious  and  successful  Hengist  en- 
joyed the  possession  of  his  ill-acquired  kingdom  until  the  year  488,  when 
he  died  at  CanttTbury,  which  city  he  had  selected  as  his  capital. 

In  the  year  495  a  tribe  of  Saxons  landed  under  the  command  of  Cerdio 
and  his  son  Kenric.  He  was  warmly  resisted  by  the  Britons,  who  still  re- 
mained attached  to  their  country  and  in  arms  for  their  freedom,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  seek  the  assistance  of  the  Saxons  of  Kent  and  Sussex  to 
enable  him  to  maintain  his  ground  liniil  reinforcements  could  arrive  from 
Germany.  These  at  length  came  under  the  command  of  his  sons  Meyla  and 
Bledda,  and  having  consolidated  their  forces  with  his  own  he  brought  the 
Britons  to  a  general  action  in  the  year  508.  The  Britons,  who  mustered 
in  numbers  far  greater  than  could  have  been  expected  after  so  many  and 
such  great  losses,  were  commanded  by  Nazan  Leod.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  day  the  courage  and  skill  uf  this  leader  gave  him  greatly  the  advan 
tage,  and  had  actually  broken  the  main  army  of  the  Saxons,  which  was 
led  by  Cerdic  in  person,  when  Henric,  who  had  been  more  successful 
against  another  division  of  the  Britons,  hastened  to  his  father's  aid.  The 
fortune  of  war  now  turned  wholly  against  the  Britons,  who  were  com- 
pletely routed,  with  the  loss  of  upwards  of  five  thousand  men,  among 
whom  was  the  brave  Nazan  Leod  himself.  The  Saxons  under  Cerdic 
now  established  the  West  Saxon  kingdom,  or  Wessex,  which  inclndedthe 
counties  of  Hants,  Wilts,  Dorset,  and  derks,  and  the  fertile  and  pictur- 
esque Isle  of  Wight.  The  discomfited  Britons  next  applied  for  aid  to 
their  fellow-countrymen  of  Wales,  who  under  the  prince  Arthur,  whose 
real  heroism  has  been  so  strangely  exaggerated  by  romance,  hastened  to 
their  aid,  and  inflicted  a  very  severe  defeat  upon  Cerdic  in  the  neighbour'- 
hood  of  Bath.  But  this  defeat,  though  it  prevented  him  from  extending  the 
kingdom  he  had  founded,  did  not  disable  him  from  maintaining  himself  in 
it.  He  did  so  until  his  death  in  534,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  his  son 
Kcnrick  who  reigned  there  until  his  death  in  560. 

In  other  parts  of  the  island  other  tribes  of  adventurers  had  been  equally 
successful  with  the  two  of  which  we  have  more  particularly  spoken ;  but 
as  a  mere  repetition  of  fierce  invasion  on  the  one  hand,  and  resistance, 
often  heroic  but  always  unsuccessful,  would  neither  amuse  nor  instruct 
the  reader,  we  at  once  pass  to  the  event,  which  was,  that  the  whole 
island,  save  Cornwall  and  Wales,  was  conquered  by  bands  of  SaCxons, 
Jutes,  and  Angles,  and  divided  into  seven  petty  kingdoms,  and  called  bv 
the  name  of  Angles-land,  subsequently  corrupted  into  England.  Of  each 
of  these  kingdoms  we  shall  give  a  very  concise  account  up  to  that  period 
when  the  whole  island  was  united  under  one  sole  sovereign,  and  at  which 
the  history  becomes  at  once  clearer  in  its  details  and  more  interesting. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THK  HEPTARCHY,  OR  THB  SRVEN  KINGDOMS  OF  THE  SAXONS  IN  BRITAIN. 

It  has  already  been  seen  that  Hengist,  the  earliest  Saxon  invader  of 
Britain,  founded  the  kingdom  of  Kent,  and  died  in  established  and  secure 
possession  of  it.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Escus.  This  prince, 
though  he  possessed  neither  the  military  prowess  nor  the  love  of  adven- 
ture which  had  distinguished  his  father,  maintained  his  place  in  peace,  and 
not  without  dignity,  to  his  death,  which  occurred  in  512,  when  he  was 
■ucceeded  by  his  son  Octa. 

Octa  like  his  father,  was  a  man  of  mediocre  talent,  and  unfortunately 


108 


THS  TBBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


for  him  he  lived  in  a  time  when  his  neighbourhood  was  anything  but  traa 
QUil.  The  kingdom  of  the  East  Saxons,  newly  established,  greatly  exten- 
ded its  limits  at  his  expense,  and  at  his  death,  in  534,  he  left  his  kingdom 
less  extensive  than  he  had  received  it  by  the  whole  of  Kssex  and  Middle- 
sex. To  Octa  succeeded  his  son  Ym  rick,  who  reigned  in  tolerable  tran- 
quillity during  the  long  period  of  thirty-two  years.  Towards  the  close  of 
his  reign  he  associated  with  hitn  in  the  government  his  son  Ethelbert, 
who  in  566  succeeded  him.     While  the  kings  of  the  Heptarchy  were  as 

Set  in  any  danger  of  disturbance  and  reprisals  on  the  part  of  the  outraged 
titons,  the  meie  instinct  of  self-preservation  had  prevented  them  from 
having  any  considerable  domestic  feuds  :  but  this  danger  at  an  end,  the 
Saxon  kings  speedily  found  cause  of  quarrel  among  themselves.  Some- 
times, as  we  have  seen  in  the  case  of  Kent,  under  Octa,  one  state  was  en- 
croached upon  by  another;  at  another  time  the  spirit  of  jealousy,  which  is 
inseparable  from  petty  kings  of  territories  having  no  natural  and  efficient 
boundaries,  caused  struggles  to  take  place,  not  so  much  for  territory  as 
for  empty  supremacy — mere  titular  chiefdom. 

When  Ethelbert,  himself  of  a  very  adventurous  and  ambitious  turn,  suc- 
ceeded to  his  kingdom  of  Kent,  Ceaulin,  king  of  Wessex,  was  the  most 
potent  prince  of  the  Heptarchy,  and  used  his  power  with  no  niggard  or 
moderate  hand.  Ethelbert,  in  the  endeavour  to  aggrandize  his  own  do- 
minions, twice  gave  battle  to  his  formidable  rival,  and  twice  suffered  de- 
cisive defeat.  But  the  cupidity  and  tyrannous  temper  of  Ceaulin,  having 
induced  him  to  annex  the  kingdom  of  Sussex  to  his  own  already  consid 
erable  possessions,  a  confederacy  of  the  other  princes  was  formed  against 
him,  and  the  command  of  the  allied  force  was  unanimously  voted  to  Ethel- 
bert, who  even  in  defeat  had  displayed  equal  courage  and  ability. 
Ethelbert,  thus  strengthened,  once  more  met  his  rival  in  arms,  and  this 
time  with  better  success.  Ceaulin  was  put  to  the  rout  with  great  loss, 
and,  dying  shortly  after  the  battle,  was  succeeded  both  in  his  ambition  and 
in  his  position  among  the  kings  of  the  Heptarchy  by  Ethelbert,  who  very 
speedily  gave  his  late  allies  abundant  reason  to  regret  the  confidence  and 
the  support  they  had  given  him.  He  by  turns  reduced  each  of  them  to  a 
complete  dependence  upon  him  as  chief,  and  having  overrun  the  kingdom 
of  Mercia,  the  most  extensive  of  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  island,  he  for  a 
time  seated  himself  upon  the  throne,  in  utter  contempt  of  the  right  and 
the  reclamations  of  Webbsi,  the  son  of  Crida,  the  original  founder  of  that 
kingdom.  But  whether  from  a  sense  of  the  injustice  of  his  conduct,  or 
from  fear  that  a  continued  possession  of  so  extensive  a  territory,  in  addi- 
tion to  that  which  of  right  belonged  to  him,  should  arm  against  himself  a 
league  as  compact  and  determined  as  that  by  the  aid  of  which  he 
had  triumphed  over  his  formidable  rival  Ceaulin,  he  subsequeiltly  resign- 
ed Mercia  to  Webba,  but  not  without  imposing  conditions  as  insulting 
as  they  were  wholly  unfounded  in  any  right  save  that  of  the  strongest. 
From  the  injustice  which  marked  this  portion  of  Ethelbert's  conduct, 
it  is  pleasing  to  have  to  turn  to  an  important  event  which  shed  a  lustre 
upon  his  reign — the  introduction  of  Christianity  to  the  Saxon  population  of 
England. 

Though  the  iiritons  had  long  been  Christians,  the  terms  upon  which 
they  lived  with  the  Saxons  were  especially  unfavourable  to  any  religious 
proselytism  between  the  two  people ;  and,  indeed,  the  early  historians  do 
not  scruple  to  confess  that  the  Britons  considered  their  conquerors  to  be 
unworthy  to  participate  in  the  blessings  of  Christian  knowledge  and 
faith. 

Ethelbert,  fortunately,  was  married  to  a  Christian  lady,  Bertha,  daugh- 
ter of  Caribert,  king  of  Paris,  who,  ere  he  would  consent  to  his  daugnter's 
marriage  with  a  Pagan,  stipulated  that  the  princess  should  fully  an^  free- 
ly enjoy  her  own  re'jgion.     On  leaving  her  native  land  for  Englan'',  she 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Iflt 


was  attended  by  a  biel- '  and  both  the  princess  and  the  prelate  exerted 
their  utmost  credit .  r  ability  to  propagate  the  Christian  faith  in  the 
country  of  their  adopi  u  ;  and  as  Bertha  was  much  beloved  at  the  court 
of  her  husband,  she  mads  so  much  progress  towards  this  good  end,  that 
the  pope,  Gregory  the  Great,  flattered  himself  with  the  hope  of  convert- 
ing the  Saxons  of  England  altogether,  a  project  which  even  before  he  be- 
came pope  he  had  conceived  from  having  accidentally  seen  some  Saxon 
slaves  at  Rome,  and  been  much  struck  with  their  singular  personal  beauty, 
and  the  intelligence  with  which  they  replied  to  his  questions. 

Encouraged  by  the  success  which  had  attended  the  eflTorts  of  Bertha* 
Gregory  dispatched  Augustin  and  forty  other  monks  to  Britain.  They 
found  Ethelbert,  by  the  influence  of  his  queen,  well  disposed  to  receive 
them  hospitably  and  listen  to  them  patiently.  Having  provided  them  with 
a  residence  in  the  isle  of  Thanel,  he  gave  them  time  to  recover  from  the 
fatigues  of  travel,  and  then  appointed  a  day  for  a  public  interview ;  but 
friendly  as  the  brave  Pagan  was  towards  the  co-religionists  of  his  wife, 
he  could  not  wholly  divest  himself  of  superstitious  terrors ;  and,  lest 
the  stranger  preachers  should  have  some  evil  spells  of  power,  he  appoint- 
ed the  meeting  to  take  place  in  the  open  air,  where,  he  thought,  such 
spells  would  be  less  effective  than  within  the  walls  of  a  building. 

Augustin  set  before  the  king  the  inspiring  and  consoling  truths  ol 
Christianity.  Doctrines  so  mild,  so  gentle,  so  free  from  earthly  taint, 
and  from  all  leaven  of  ambition  and  violence,  struck  strangely,  but  no 
less  forcibly,  upon  the  spirit  of  the  bold  Ethelbert.  But  though  much 
moved,  he  was  not  wholly  convinced  ;  he  could  admire,  but  he  could  not 
instantly  embrace  tenets  so  new  and  so  different  from  those  to  which 
from  infancy  he  had  been  accustomed.  But  if  he  could  not  on  the  instant 
abandon  the  faith  of  his  ancestors  for  the  new  faith  that  was  now  preach- 
ed to  him,  he  was  entirely  convinced  that  the  latter  faith  was,  at  the 
least,  incapable  of  injuring  his  people.  His  reply,  therefore,  to  the  ad 
dresses  of  Augustin,  was  at  once  marked  by  tolerance  and  by  caution ; 
by  an  unwillingness  to  abandon  the  faith  of  his  youth,  yet  by  a  perfect 
willingness  to  allow  his  people  a  fair  opportunity  of  judging  between  that 
faith  and  Christianity. 

"Your  words  and  your  promises,"  said  he,  "sound  fairly;  but  inas- 
much as  they  are  new  and  unproven,  I  cannot  entirely  yield  my  confi- 
dence to  them,  and  abandon  the  principles  so  long  maintained  by  my  an- 
cestors. Nevertheless,  you  may  remain  here  in  peace  and  safety,  and 
as  you  have  travelled  so  far  in  order  to  benefit  us,  at  least  as  you  sup- 
pose, I  will  provide  you  with  everything  necessary  for  your  support,  and 
you  shall  have  full  liberty  to  preach  your  doctrines  to  my  subjects." 

Well  would  it  have  been  for  mankmd  if  all  potentates  in  all  times  and 
countries  had  been  as  wisely  tolerant  as  this  Pagan  Saxon  of  an  early 
and  benighted  age. 

The  decree  of  toleration  that  was  thus  accorded  to  Augustin  was  all 
that  he  required ;  his  own  faithful  zeal  and  well-cultivated  talents  assured 
him  of  success ;  and  so  well  and  diligently  did  he  avail  himself  of  the 
opportunities  that  were  afforded  to  him  by  the  king^s  toleration  and  the 
queen's  favour,  that  he  speedily  made  numbers  of  converts.  Every  new 
success  inspired  him  with  new  zeal  and  nerved  him  to  new  exertions. 
His  abstinence,  his  painful  vigils,  and  the  severe  penances  to  which  he 
subjected  himself,  struck  these  rude  people  with  awe  and  admiration,  and 
not  merely  fixed  their  attention  more  strongly  than  any  other  means 
could  have  done  upon  his  preachings,  but  also  predisposed  them  to  be- 
Iteve  equally  in  the  sincerity  of  the  preacher  and  in  the  truth  of  his  doc- 
trine. Numbers,  not  only  of  the  poorer  and  more  ignorant,  but  also  of 
the  wealthier  and  better  informed,  becamr  at  firsi  attentive  auditors,  and 
then  converts.    They  crowded  to  be  baptized,  and  after  a  great  majority 


M 


110 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


of  his  subjects  had  thus  been  admitted  into  the  pale  of  Christianity,  the 
king  himself  became  a  convert  and  was  baptized,  to  the  great  joy  of 
Rome. 

Augustin  had  constantly  impressed  upon  the  king  that  conversion  to 
the  Christian  faith  must  be  the  result  not  of  force  or  threatenings,  but  of 
conviction ;  that  the  religion  of  Christ  was  the  religion  of  love  and  of 
perfect  faith  in  doctrines  set  forth  in  faithful  preaching.  He  had  con- 
stantly exhorted  the  king  to  allow  no  worldly  motives  to  weigh  in  his 
own  conversion,  and  by  no  means  to  exert  his  authority,  or  the  terror  of 
it,  to  produce  an  unwilling  assent  on  the  part  of  any  portion  of  his  peo- 
ple, however  humble,  seeing  that  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,  and  in  things 
spiritual,  the  humblest  peasant  was  as  important  and  as  precious  as  the 
proudest  and  most  powerful  monarch. 

But  Gregory  the  Qreat  was  zealous  in  the  extreme  in  the  cause  ol 
proselytism,  and  by  no  means  backward  in  availing  himself  of  temporal 
power  for  the  fulfilment  of  spiritual  ends.  And  as  soon  as  he  learned 
that  Eihelbert  and  a  considerable  portion  of  his  subjects  had  embraced 
Christianity,  he  sent  to  the  former  at  once  to  congratulate  him  upon  his 
wise  and  happy  conversion,  and  to  urge  him,  by  his  duty  as  a  monarch, 
and  by  his  sympathies  and  faith  as  a  Christian,  not  any  longer  to  allow 
even  a  part  of  his  subjects  to  wander  on  in  the  darkness  and  error  of  Pa- 
ganism. To  have  the  kingly  power,  he  argued,  implied  and  included  the 
duty  of  using  it  in  all  ways  that  could  conduce  to  the  welfare  of  his  sub- 
jects— and  what  more  weighty  and  tremendous  matter  could  concern 
them  than  the  possession  of  that  true  faith  which  alone  could  secure 
their  happiness  in  this  world  and  their  safety  in  the  world  to  come.  Ex- 
horting the  king  to  blandishment  and  persuasion,  he  also  exhorted  him, 
in  the  case  of  those  means  failing  with  any,  to  resort  to  terror,  and 
threatening,  and  even  chastisement.  So  different  was  the  policy  of  the 
papal  statesman  and  the  pious  and  sincerely  Christian  feelings  of  his 
zealous  missionary ! 

Gregory  at  the  same  time  sent  his  instructions  to  Augustin,  and  very 
particular  answers  to  some  singular  questions  put  by  the  missionary  as 
to  points  of  morality  which  he  thought  it  necessary  to  enforce  upon  the 
understandings  and  practice  of  his  new  and  numerous  flock ;  but  these 
questions  and  answers  would  be  out  of  place  here,  as  they  only  tend  to 
illustrate  either  the  exceeding  grossness  of  the  flock,  or  the  exceeding 
simplicity  and  minute  anxiety  of  their  spiritual  pastor. 

Well  pleased  with  the  zeal  of  Augustin,  and  with  the  success  with 
which  it  had  thus  far  been  crowned,  Gregory  made  him  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  sent  him  a  pall  from  Rome,  and  gave  him  plenary  luthority 
over  all  the  British  churches  that  should  be  erected.  But  though  Agus- 
tin  was  thus  highly  approved  and  honoured,  Gregory,  who  was  shrewdly 
acquainted  with  human  nature,  saw,  or  suspected,  that  the  good  mission- 
ary was  very  proud  of  a  success  which  was,  indeed,  little  less  than  mi- 
raculous, whether  its  extent  or  its  rapidity  be  considered.  At  the  same 
time,  therefore,  that  he  both  praised  and  exalted  him,  he  emphatically 
warned  him  against  allowing  himself  to  be  seduced  into  a  too  great  ela- 
tion on  account  of  his  good  work;  nnd,  as  Augustin  manifested  some 
desire  to  exert  his  authority  over  the  spiritual  concerns  of  Gaul,  the  pope 
cautioned  him  against  any  such  interference,  and  expressly  informed  him 
that  he  was  to  consider  the  bishops  of  that  country  wholly  beyond  his 
jurisdiction.  Strange  contradictions  in  human  reasoning  and  conduct! 
We  have  the  humble  missionary  dehortiiig  a  newly  converted  pagan  from 
persecution ;  a  pope,  the  visible  head  of  the  whole  Christian  world,  an^ 
the  presumed  infallible  expounder  of  Christian  doctrines,  strongly  and 
expressly  exhorting  him  to  it ;  and  anon  we  have  the  ambitious  and  des- 
potic patron  of  forcible  proselytism  wisely  and  reasonably  interposing 


THE  TRBABURY  OF  HIBTOBY. 


Ill 


his  authority  and  advice  to  prevent  the  recently  so  humble  missionary 
from  mnking  shipwreck  of  his  character  and  usefulness,  by  an  unbecom- 
ing  and  unjustifiable  indulgence  in  the  soaring  ambition  so  suddenly  and 
strongly  avrakened  by  the  gift  of  a  little  brief  authority ! 

It  watt  nut  only  in  the  influence  that  Bertha  had  in  the  conversion  ol 
the  Saxon  subjects  of  her  husband  to  Christianity  that  shr  was  service^ 
able  to  ttiem,  though  compared  to  that  service  all  others  were  of  compar- 
atively small  value.  But  even  in  a  worldly  point  of  view  her  marrriage 
to  Elhelbert  was  of  real  and  very  important  benefit  to  his  subjects.  For 
tier  intimate  connection  with  France  led  to  an  intercourse  between  that 
nation  and  England,  which  not  merely  tended  to  increase  the  wealth,  in- 
genuity, and  commercial  enterprise  of  the  latter,  but  also  to  soften  and 
polish  their  as  yet  rude  and  semi-barbarous  maimers.  The  conversion  of 
the  8axu!is  to  Christianity  had  even  a  more  extensive  influence  in  these 
respticts,  by  bringing  the  people  acquainted  with  the  arts  and  the  luxuries 
of  Italy. 

Stormy  at  its  commencement,  the  reign  of  Ethelbert  was  subsequently 
peaceable  and  prosperous,  and  it  left  traces  and  seed  of  good,  of  which 
the  English  are  even  to  this  day  reaping  the  benefit.  Besides  the  share 
he  had  in  converting  his  subjects  to  Christianity,  and  in  encouraging 
them  to  devote  themselves  to  commerce  and  the  useful  arts,  he  was  the 
flrst  Saxon  monarch  who  gave  his  people  written  laws ;  and  these  laws, 
making  due  allowance  for  the  age  and  for  the  condition  of  the  people  for 
whose  government  they  were  promulged,  show  him  to  have  been,  even 
if  regarded  only  in  his  civil  capacity,  an  extremely  wise  man  and  a  lover 
of  peace  and  justice.  After  a  long  and  useful  reign  of  fifty  years,  Ethel- 
bert died  in  the  year  616,  and  whs  succeeded  by  his  son  Eadbald. 

History  but  too  frequently  shows  us  the  power  of  worldly  passions  in 
perverting  religious  faith.  During  the  lifetime  of  his  father,  Ladbald  had 
professed  the  Christian  religion ;  but  when  he  became  king  he  abandoned 
it  and  returned  to  the  gross  errors  of  paganism,  because  tiie  latter  al- 
lowed the  indulgence  of  an  incestuous  passion  which  he  had  conceived, 
and  which  Christianity  denounced  as  horrible  and  sinful.  It  is  much  to 
be  feared  that  among  the  very  earliest  converts,  in  the  case  of  the  con- 
version of  a  numerous  people,  many,  if  not  even  the  majority,  are  guided 
into  the  new  way  rattier  by  fear,  policy,  mere  fashion,  or  mere  indolence, 
than  by  sincere  conviction.  In  the  present  instance  this  is  lamentably  ap- 
parent; for  on  Eadbald  returning  to  the  gross  and  senseless  practices  of 
his  forefathers,  the  great  body  of  his  subjects,  outwardly  at  least,  return- 
ed with  him.  So  copipletely  were  the  Christian  altars  abandoned,  and 
80  openly  and  generally  was  the  Christian  faith  derided,  that  Justus, 
bishop  of  Rochester,  and  Melitus,  bishop  of  London,  abandoned  their 
sees  in  despair,  and  departed  the  kingdom.  Laurentins,  who  had  suc- 
ceeded Augustin  in  the  Archiepiscopal  dignity  of  Canterbury,  had  pre- 
pared to  follow  their  example  ;  but  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  he  deter- 
mined to  make  one  striking  and  final  effort  to  bring  buck  the  king  into 
the  fold  of  t\w  church. 

When  excessive  zeal  has  to  deal  with  ignorance  and  rudeness — and 
even  yet  the  Saxons  were  both  ignorant  and  rude — we  are  taught  by  all 
history  that  even  the  sincerest  men,  wrought  upon  by  excessive  zeal  for 
what  they  consider  to  be  a  righteous  and  important  work,  will  descend 
to  pious  frauds  to  accomplish  that  for  which  the  plain  truth  would  not 
under  the  circumstances  suffice.  Laurentius  was  no  exception  to  this 
sommon  rule.  Seeking  an  interview  with  the  kinj,  he  threw  off  his 
upper  garments,  and  exhibited  his  body  covered  with  wounds  ai.d  bruises 
to  such  an  extent  as  denoted  the  most  savage  ill-treiUmcnt.  The  king, 
though  evil  passion  had  led  him  formally  to  abjure  Christianity,  was  not 
prepared  to  sec,  unmoved,  such  proof  of  brutality  and  irreverence  having 


113 


THE  TRBASVRY  OF  HISTORY. 


been  shown  to  the  chief  teacher  of  his  abandoned  creed ;  and  he  eagerly 
and  indignantly  demanded  who  had  dared  thus  to  ilUtreat  a  personage  so 
eminent.  Laurentius,  in  reply,  assured  him  that  his  wounds  hud  been 
inflicted  not  by  living  hands,  but  by  those  of  St.  Peter  himself,  who  had 
appeared  to  him  in  a  vision,  and  had  thus  chastised  him  for  his  intended 
desertion  of  a  flock  upon  which  his  departure  would  inevitably  draw 
down  eternal  perdition.  The  result  of  this  bold  and  gross  inventiop 
showed  how  much  more  powerful  over  gross  and  ignorant  minds  are  the 
coarsest  fables  of  superstition,  than  the  sublimest  truths  or  the  most 
aflTectionate  urgings  of  genuine  religion.  To  the  latter,  Eadbald  had  been 
contemptuously  deaf;  to  the  former,  he  on  the  instant  sacrificed  his  in 
cestuous  passion  and  the  object  of  it.  Divorcing  himself  from  her,  he 
returned  to  the  Christian  pale ;  and  his  people,  obedient  in  good  an  in  evil, 
returned  with  him.  The  reign  of  Eadbald,  apart  from  this  apostacy  and 
re^conversiun,  was  not  remarkable.  The  power  which  his  father  had  es- 
tablished, and  the  prestige  of  his  father's  remembered  ability  and  great 
ness,  enabled  him  to  reign  peaceably  without  the  exertion,  probably  with 
out  the  possession,  of  any  very  remarkable  ability'of  his  own.  After  a 
reign  of  twenty-flve  years,  he  died  in  640,  leaving  two  sons,  Erminfrid 
and  Ercombert. 

Ercombert,  though  the  younger  brother,  succeeded  his  father.  He 
reigned  for  twenty-four  years.  This  reign,  too,  was  on  the  whole  peace- 
able,  though  he  showed  great  zeal  in  rooting  out  the  remains  of  idolatry 
from  among  his  people.  He  was  sincerely  and  zealously  attached  to  the 
church,  and  he  it  was  who  first  of  the  Saxon  monarchs  enforced  upon  his 
subjects  the  observance  of  the  fast  of  Lent. 

Ercombert  died  in  664,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Egbert,  This 
prince,  sensible  that  his  father  had  wrongfully  obtained  the  throne,  and 
fearing  that  factions  might  be  found  in  favour  of  the  heirs  of  his  father'! 
elder  brother,  put  those  two  princes  to  death — an  act  of  barbarous  policv 
which  would  probably  have  caused  his  character  to  descend  to  ms  in  much 
darker  and  more  hateful  colours,  but  that  his  zeal  in  enahling  Dunnina 
his  sister,  to  found  a  monastery  in  the  Isle  of  Ely  caused  him  to  find  fa 
vour  in  the  eyes  of  the  monkish  historians,  who  were  ever  far  too  ready 
to  allow  apparent  friendliness  to  the  temporal  prosperity  of  the  church  to 
outweigh  even  the  most  flagrant  and  hateful  sins  against  the  doctrines 
taught  by  the  church. 

It  is  nevertheless  true  that,  apart  from  his  horrible  and  merciless  treat- 
ment of  his  cousins,  this  prince  displayei  a  character  so  mild  and  thought- 
ful as  makes  his  commission  of  that  crime  doubly  remarkable  and  lamen- 
table. His  rule  was  moderate,  though  firm,  and  during  his  short  reign  of 
only  nine  years  he  seems  to  have  embraced  every  opportunity  of  en- 
couraging and  advancing  learning.  He  died  in  673,  and  was  succeeded 
by  his  brother  Lothaire;  so  that  his  cruel  murder  of  his  nephews  did  not 
prove  successful  in  securing  the  throne  to  his  son. 

Lothaire  associated  with  himself  in  the  government  his  son  Hichard, 
and  every  thing  seemed  to  promise  the  usurpers  a  long  and  prosperous 
reign.  But  Edric,  the  son  of  Egbert,  unappalled  by  the  double  power 
and  ability  which  thus  barred  him  from  the  throne,  took  shelter  ut  tho 
court  of  Edilwalch,  king  of  Sussex.  That  prince  heartily  espourcd  his 
cause,  and  furnished  him  with  troops;  and  after  a  reign  of  eleven  years, 
Lothaire  was  slain  in  battle,  a.d.  684,  and  his  son  Richard  escaped  to 
Italy,  where  he  died  in  comparative  obscurity. 

Edric  did  not  long  enjoy  the  throne.  His  reign,  which  presents  no- 
thing worthy  of  record,  was  barely  two  years.  He  died  in  666,  and  wu 
succeeded  by  his  son  Widred. 

The  violence  and  usurpation  which  had  recently  taken  place  in  the 
kingdom  produced  the  usual  effect,  disunion  among  the  nobility  ;  and  that 


TUlfi  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


tl9 


disunion,  as  is  also  usually  the  case,  invited  the  attack  of  external  en- 
emies. Accordingly,  Widred  had  hardly  ascended  the  throne  when  hit 
kingdom  was  invaded  by  Cedwalla,  king  of  Wessez,  and  his  brother 
Mollo.  But  though  the  invaders  did  vast  damage  to  the  kingdom  of 
Kent,  their  appearance  had  the  good  effect  of  putting  an  end  to  domestic 
disunion,  and  Widred  was  able  to  assemble  a  powerfuU  force  for  the  de- 
fence of  his  throne.  In  a  severe  battle  which  was  fought  against  the  in- 
vaders, Mollo  was  slain ;  and  Widred  so  ably  availed  himself  of  the  op- 
portunity  afforded  to  him  by  this  event,  that  his  reign  extended  to  the  long 
term  of  thirty-two  years.  At  his  death,  in  718,  ne  left  the  kingdom  to 
his  family ;  but  at  the  death  of  his  third  successor,  Alric,  who  died  in  794, 
all  pretence,  even,  to  a  legitimate  order  of  succession  to  the  throne  was 
abandoned.  To  wish  was  to  strive,  to  conquer  was  to  have  right ;  and 
whether  it  were  a  powerful  noble  or  an  illegitimate  connection  of  the 
royal  family,  every  pretender  who  could  maintain  his  claim  by  force  ol 
arms  seemed  to  consider  himself  fully  entitled  to  irike  for  the  vacant 
throne.  This  anarchical  condition  of  the  kingdor  ,  and  the  weakness 
and  disorder  which  were  necessarily  produced  by  su:h  frequent  civil  war, 
paved  the  way  to  the  utter  annihilation  of  Kent  as  a  separate  kingdom, 
which  annihilation  was  accomplished  by  Egbert,  king  of  Wcssex,  about 
the  year  620. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   HF.PTARCHT    (cORTINCED). 

The  kingdom  of  Northumberland  first  made  a  considerable  figure  and 
exercised  a  great  share  of  influenee  in  the  Heptarchy  under  Adelfrid,  :i 
brave  and  able  but  ambitious  and  unprincipled  ruler.  Original'y  king  of 
Bernicia,  he  married  Acca,  daughter  of  Alia,  king  of  the  Deiri,  and  at  the 
death  of  that  monarch  dispossessed  and  expelled  his  youthful  heir,  and 
united  all  the  country  north  of  the  Humber  into  one  kingdom,  the  limits 
of  wnich  he  still  farther  extended  by  his  victories  over  the  Picts  and 
Scots,  and  the  Britons  in  Wales.  An  anecdote  is  related  of  this  prince 
which  seems  to  indicate  that  he  held  the  clergy  in  no  very  great  respect. 
Having  found  or  made  occasion  to  lay  siege  to  Chester,  he  was  opposed 
by  the  Britons,  who  marched  in  great  force  to  compel  him  to  raise  the 
seige,  and  they  were  accompanied  to  the  field  of  battle  by  upwards  of  a 
thousand  monks  from  the  monastery  of  Bangor.  On  being  informed  that 
this  numerous  body  of  religious  men  had  come  to  the  field  of  battle,  not 
actually  to  fight  against  him,  but  only  to  exhort  their  countrymen  to  fight 
stoutly  and  to  pray  for  their  success,  the  stern  warrior,  who  could  not 
understand  the  nice  distinction  between  those  who  fought  against  him 
with  their  arms  and  those  who  prayed  that  those  arms  might  be  victori- 
ous, immediately  detached  some  of  his  troops  with  orders  to  charge  upon 
the  monks  as  heartily  as  though  they  had  been  armed  and  genuine  sol- 
diers ;  and  so  faithfully  was  this  ruthless  order  obeyed,  that  only  fifty  of 
the  monks  are  said  to  have  escaped  from  the  sanguinary  scene  with  their 
lives.  In  the  battle  which  immediately  followed  this  wanton  butchery 
the  Britons  were  completely  defeated,  and  Adelfrid  having  entered  Ches- 
ter in  triumph,  and  strongly  garrisoned  it,  pursued  his  march  to  the  mon- 
astery of  Bangor,  resolved  that  it  should  not  soon  again  send  out  an 
army  of  monks  to  pray  for  his  defeat. 

The  early  years  of  the  sway  of  Catholicism  in  every  country  were 
marked  both  by  the  numbers  of  the  monasteries  and  the  vast  expense 
that  was  lavished  upon  them.  This  was  especially  the  case  in  both  Eng- 
land and — as  we  shall  hereafter  have  to  remark — Ireland ;  but  in  neither 
I.-8 


"■i*^ 


114 


THE  TREASUEY  OF  H/8T0RY. 


of  these  countries  was  there  another  monastery  which  could,  for  extent 
at  least,  bear  comparison  with  that  of  Bangor.  From  gate  to  gate  it  cov- 
ered  a  mile  of  ground,  and  it  sheltered  the  enormous  number  of  two 
thousand  monks ;  the  whole  of  this  vast  building  was  now  sacrificod  to 
the  resentment  of  Adelfrid,  who  completely  buttered  it  down. 

But  the  warlike  prowess  of  Adelfrid  was  fated  to  prove  insufficient  to 
preserve  him  in  the  power  which  he  had  so  unrighteously  obtained  by  de- 
priving a  young  and  helpless  orphan  of  his  heritage.  That  orphan,  now 
grown  to  man's  estate,  had  found  shelter  in  the  court  of  Redwald,  king  of 
the  Kast  Angles.  This  monarch's  protection  of  the  young  Edwin,  and 
that  young  prince's  reputed  ability  and  courage,  alarmed  Adelfrid  for  the 
stability  of  his  ill-acquired  greatness ;  and  he  had  the  ineffable  baseness 
to  make  offers  of  large  presents  to  induce  Redwald  to  deprive  the  young 

Erince  of  life,  or  to  deliver  him,  living,  into  the  power  or  the  usurper  ol 
is  throne.  For  some  time  Redwald  returned  positive  and  indignant  re- 
fusals  to  all  propositions  of  this  kind ;  but  the  pertinacity  of  Adelfrid, 
who  still  increased  in  the  mafjnitude  of  his  offers,  began  to  shake  the  con- 
stancy of  Redwald,  when,  fortunately  for  that  monarch's  character,  his 
queen  interposed  to  save  him  from  the  horrid  baseness  to  which  he  was 
well  nigh  ready  to  consent.  Strongly  sympathising  with  Kdwin,  site  felt 
the  more  interest  for  him  on  account  of  the  magnanimous  confidence  in 
her  husband's  honour  which  the  young  prince  displayed  by  tranquilly  con- 
tinuing his  residence  in  East  Anglia  even  aftnr  he  was  aware  how  strong- 
ly his  protector  was  sued  and  tempted  to  baseness  by  the  usurper  Adelfrid. 
Not  contented  with  having  successfully  dissuaded  her  husband  from  the 
treachery  of  yielding  up  the  unfortunate  and  dispossessed  prince,  she 
farther  endeavoured  to  induce  him  to  exert  himself  actively  on  his  behalf, 
and  to  march  against  the  usurper  while  he  was  still  in  hope  of  having  an 
affirmative  answer  to  his  disgraceful  and  insulting  proposals.  The  king 
of  the  East  Angles  consented  to  do  this,  and  suddenly  marched  a  power- 
ful army  into  Northumberland.  In  the  sanguinary  and  decisive  batik 
which  ensued,  Adelfrid  was  slain,  but  not  until  after  he  had  killed  Red 
wald's  son,  Regm^r. 

Edwin,  who  this  obtained  possession  of  the  kingdom  of  Northumber 
land,  passing  at  once  from  tlio  condition  of  an  exiled  and  dependent  fugi 
tive  to  that  of  a  powerful  monarch,  displayed  ability  equal  to  the  latter  lot 
as  he  had  displayed  firm  and  dignified  resignation  in  the  former.  Just, 
but  inflexibly  severe  in  restraining  his  subjects  from  wrong-doing,  he  put 
such  order  into  the  kingdom,  which  at  his  accession  was  noted  for  its 
licentiousness  and  disorder,  that  of  him,  as  of  some  other  well-governing 
princes,  the  old  historians  relate  that  he  caused  valuable  property  to  be 
exposed  unguarded  upon  the  high  roads,  and  no  man  dared  to  appropriate 
it.  A  mere  figurative  and  hyperbolical  anecdote,  no  doubt,  but  one  which 
evidences  the  greatness  of  the  truth  on  which  such  an  exaggeration  must 
be  founded. 

Nor  was  it  merely  within  even  the  wide  limits  of  his  own  kingdom  that 
the  fine  character  of  Edwin  was  appreciated ;  it  procured  him  admiration 
and  proportionate  influence  throughout  the  Heptarchy.  His  benefactor 
Redwald,  king  of  the  East  Angles,  being  involved  in  serious  disputes  with 
his  subjects,  was  overpowered  by  them  and  put  to  death.  The  conduct 
of  Edwin,  both  while  a  fugitive  and  a  soujourner  among  them,  and  in  his 
subsequent  prosperity  and  greatness,  caused  them  to  offer  him  their  throne. 
But  they  were  incapable  of  understanding  the  whole  greatness  of  his  spirit 
He  had  too  deep  and  abiding  a  sense  of  gratitude  for  the  favours  he  owed 
to  Redwald,  and,  still  more,  to  the  queen  of  that  prince,  to  see  their  off- 
spring disinherited,  and  instead  of  accepting  the  throne,  he  threatened  the 
East  Angles  with  chastisement  in  the  event  of  their  refusing  to  give  pos- 
session of  i*  to  the  rightful    wner  Earpwold,  second  heir  of  the  murdered 


TU£  TEEASURY  OF  HISTOUY. 


lis 


•ling.  irpwold  accordingly  ascended  the  thrune,  and  was  protected 
upon  -   by  tne  power  and  reputation  of  Edwin. 

Edwin  married  Ethelburga,  daughter  of  Ethelbert,  king  of  Kent,  by  Ber- 
tha, to  whom,  chiefly,  that  monarch  and  hia  people  had  owed  their  con- 
version to  Christianity.  Of  such  a  mother,  Ethelburga  on  the  occasion  of 
her  marriage  proved  herself  the  worthy  daughter ;  she,  as  her  mother  had 
done,  stipulated  for  full  and  free  exercise  of  her  religion,  and  she  also  took 
with  her  to  her  new  realm  a  learned  bishop,  by  name  Paulinus.  Very 
soon  after  her  marriage,  she  began  to  attempt  the  conversion  of  her  hut- 
band.  Calm  and  deliberate  in  all  that  he  did,  Edwin  would  not  allow  the 
merely  human  feeling  of  conjugal  affection  to  decide  him  in  a  matter  so 
vitally  important  as  an  entire  change  of  religion.  The  most  that  her  af- 
fectionate importunity  could  obtain,  was  his  promise  to  give  the  fullest 
and  most  serious  attention  to  all  the  arguments  that  might  be  urged  in  fa- 
vour of  the  new  faith  that  was  offered  to  him;  and,  accordingly,  he  not 
only  held  frequent  and  long  conferences  with  Paulinus,  but  also  laid  be- 
fore the  gravest  and  wisest  of  his  councillors  all  the  arguments  that  were 
urged  to  him  by  that  prelate.  Having  undertaken  the  inquiry  in  a  sincere 
and  teachable  spirit,  he  could  not  fail  to  be  convinced,  and  the  truth  having 
fallen  bright  and  full  upon  his  enlightened  mind,  he  openly  declared  him- 
self a  convert  to  Christianity.  His  conversion  and  baptism  were  followed 
by  those  of  the  greater  part  of  his  people,  who  were  the  more  easily  per- 
suaded to  this  great  and  total  change  of  faith  when  they  saw  their  chief 
priest,  Coiff,  renounce  the  idolatry  of  which  he  had  been  the  chief  pillar 
and  propounder,  and  excel  in  his  conoclastic  zeal  against  the  idols  to  which 
he  had  so  long  ministered,  even  the  Christian  bishop,  Paulinus  himsel 

The  reign  of  Edwin  produced  great  benefit  to  his  people,  but  rather  by 
his  activity  and  industry  than  by  its  length,  he  being  slain  in  the  seven- 
teenth year  of  his  reign,  in  a  battle  which  he  fought  against  Cisdwalla, 
king  of  the  Welch  Britons,  and  Penda,  king  of  the  Mercia. 

At  the  death  of  Edwin  the  kingdom  of  Northumberland  was  dismem- 
bered, and  its  inhabitants  for  the  most  part  fell  back  into  paganism.  So 
general,  indeed,  was  the  defection  from  Christianity,  that  the  widowed 
Ethelburga  returned  to  her  natal  kingdom  of  Kent,  and  was  accompanied 
by  Paulinus,  who  had  been  made  archbishop  of  York. 

After  the  dismembered  kingdom  of  Northumberland  had  been  torn  by 
much  petty  but  ruinous  strife,  the  several  portions  were  again  united  by 
Oswald,  brother  of  Eanfrid,  and  son  of  the  usurper  Adelfrid.  Oswald  was 
strongly  opposed  by  the  Britons  under  the  command  of  the  warlike  Csed- 
walla ,  but  the  Britons  were  so  desperately  beaten,  that  they  never  again 
made  any  general  or  vigorous  attack  upon  the  Saxons.  As  soon  as  he 
had  re-established  the  unity  of  the  Northumbrian  kingdom,  Oswald  also 
restored  the  Christian  relii^ion,  to  which  he  was  zealously  attached.  It 
is,  probably,  rather  to  this  than  to  any  of  his  other  good  qualities,  that  he 
owes  the  marked  favour  in  which  he  is  held  by  the  monkish  historians, 
who  bestow  the  highest  possible  praises  upon  his  piety  and  charity,  and 
who  moreover  affirm  that  his  mortal  remains  had  the  power  of  working 
miracles. 

Oswald  was  slain  in  battle  against  Penda,  the  king  of  Mercia.  After 
his  death  the  history  of  the  kingdom  of  Northumberland  is  a  mere  melange 
of  usurpations,  and  of  all  the  distractions  of  civil  war,  up  to  the  time  when 
Egbert,  king  of  Wessex,  reduced  it,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  Hep- 
tarchy, to  obedience  to  his  rule. 


lit 


THR  TRKABURY  OF  HIBTOIIY. 


CHAPTKK   IV. 

TUB  HBPTARCIIV  (cONTINUBD). 

The  kingdom  of  East  Anglia  was  founded  by  Ufla  ;  but  its  history  af- 
fords no  instruction  or  amusement  j  it  is,  in  fact,  in  the  words  of  un  emi- 
nent historian,  only  "a  long  bead-ioU  of  barbarous  names,"  until  we  arrive 
It  the  time  of  its  annexation  to  the  powerful  and  extensive  kingdom  ot 
Mercia,  to  which  wo  now  proceed  to  direct  the  reader's  attention. 

Mercia,  the  most  extensive  of  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  Heptarchy,  could 
not  fail  to  be  very  powerful  whenever  ruled  by  a  brave  or  wise  king.  Sit- 
uatcd  in  the  middle  of  the  island,  it  in  some  one  point  or  more  touched 
each  of  the  other  six  kingdoms. 

Penda,  in  battle  against  whom  we  have  already  described  Oswald  of 
Northumberlnnd  to  have  lost  both  throne  and  life,  was  the  firnt  really  pow- 
erful nnd  distinguished  king  of  Mercia;  but  he  was  distinguished  chiefly 
for  personal  courage  and  the  tyrannous  and  violent  temper  in  which  he  so 
exerted  that  quality  as  to  render  himself  the  terror  or  the  detestation  of 
all  his  contempurary  English  princes.  Three  kings  of  Hast  Anglia,  Sige- 
bert,  Egric,  and  Annas,  were  in  succession  slain  in  attempting  oppose 
him,  as  did  Edwin  and  Oswald,  decidedly  the  most  powerful  of  the  kings 
of  Northumberland;  and  yet  this  monarch,  who  wrought  such  havoc 
among  his  fellow-princes,  did  not  ascend  his  throne  until  he  was  more 
than  fifty  years  of  age.  Oswy,  brother  of  Oswald,  now  encountered  him, 
and  Penda  was  slain ;  this  occurred  in  the  year  655,  and  the  tyrannical 
and  fierce  warrior,  whom  all  hated  and  many  feared,  was  succeeded  by 
his  son,  Penda,  whose  wife  was  a  daughter  of  Oswy.  This  princess  was 
a  Christian,  nnd,  like  Bertha  and  Etiiclburga,  she  so  successfully  exerted 
her  conjugal  influence,  that  she  converted  her  husband  and  his  subjects  to 
her  faith.  The  exact  length  of  this  monarch's  reign  is  as  uncertain  as  the 
manner  of  his  death.  As  regards  the  latter,  one  historian  boldly  asserts 
that  he  was  treacherously  put  to  death  by  the  order  and  connivance  of  his 
queen;  but  this  seems  but  little  to  tally  with  her  acknowledged  and  affec- 
tionate zeal  in  converting  him  to  Christianity ;  and  as  nothing  in  the  shape 
of  proof  can  be  produced  to  support  so  improbable  a  charge,  we  may  pretty 
safely  conclude  that  either  ignorance  or  malice  has  given  a  mistaken  turn 
to  some  circumstances  attending  his  violent  death.  He  was  succeeded  by 
his  son  Wolfhere,  who  inherited  his  father's  courage  and  conduct,  and  not 
merely  maintained  his  own  extensive  kingdom  in  excellent  order,  but  also 
reduced  Essex  and  East  Anglia  to  dependence  upon  it.  He  was  suc- 
ceeded by  his  brother,  Ethelred,  who  showed  that  he  inherited  his  spirit 
as  well  as  his  kingdom.  Though  a  sincere  lover  of  peace,  and  willing  to 
make  all  honourable  sacrifices  to  obtain  and  preserve  it,  he  was  also  both 
willing  and  able  to  show  himself  a  stout  and  true  soldier  when  the  occa- 
sion really  demanded  that  he  should  do  so.  Being  provoked  to  invade 
Kent,  he  made  a  very  successful  incursion  upon  that  kingdom ;  and  when 
his  own  territory  was  invaded  by  Egfrid,king  of  Northumberland,  he  fairly 
drove  that  monarch  back  again,  and  slew  Elfwin,  Egfrid's  brother,  in  a 
pitched  battle.  He  reigned  creditably  and  prosperously  for  thirty  years, 
and  then  resigning  the  crown  to  his  nephew,  Kendrid,  he  retired  to  the 
monastery  of  Burdney.  Kendrid,  in  his  turn,  becoming  wearied  of  the 
cares  and  toils  of  royalty,  resigned  the  crown  to  Ceolred,  the  son  of  Ethel- 
red;  he  then  went  to  Rome,  and  there  passed  the  remainder  of  his  life  in 
devout  preparation  for  another  and  a  better  world.  Ceolred  was  suc- 
ceeded by  Ethelbald,  and  the  latter  by  OfTa,  who  ascended  the  throne  in 
the  year  755  ;  he  was  an  active  and  warlike  prince.  Very  early  in  his 
reign  he  defeated  Lothaire,  king  of  Kent,  and  Kenwulph,  kingof  Wessex 


THE  TRIABURY  OF  HISTORY. 


iir 


and  annexed  Oxrordshire  and  Glouceaterahire  to  his  already  largo  domin* 
iona.  But  though  bravo,  he  was  both  cruel  and  treacherous.  Kthelbert, 
kinf(  of  the  Kust  Aii({Ig8,  had  paid  his  addresses  to  the  daughter  of  OITa, 
and  was  accepted  as  her  Hfllanced  luisband,  and  at  length  invited  to  Here- 
ford to  celebrate  the  marri:ige.  But  in  the  very  midst  of  the  feasting  and 
amusements  incident  to  so  important  and  joyful  an  event,  the  young  prince 
was  seized  upon  bv  order  of  OiTu,  imd  barbarouMly  beheaded.  The  whole 
of  his  retinue  would  have  shared  the  suinc  fate,  but  that  Klfrida,  the  daugh> 
ter  wiioni  OfTa  thus  barbarously  deprived  of  her  affianced  husband,  found 
out  what  cruelly  had  been  exerciNcd  upon  thoir  master,  and  took  an  op- 
portunity to  warn  them  of  tiieir  danger.  Their  timely  escape,  however, 
did  not  in  the  least  affect  the  treacherous  ambition  of  Offa,  who  seized 
upon  East  Anglia. 

As  he  grew  old,  OfTa  became  tortured  with  remorse  for  his  crimes,  atid 
with  the  superstition  common  to  his  age,  sousht  to  atone  for  them  by  os- 
tentalious  and  prodiirul  liberality  to  the  church.  He  gave  the  tithe  of  all 
his  property  to  the  cnurch,  lavished  donations  upon  the  cathedral  of  Here- 
ford, and  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Rome,  where  his  wealth  and  consequence 
readily  procured  him  the  absolution  of  the  pope,  whose  especial  favour  he 
gained  by  undertaking  to  support  an  English  college  ut  Itomc.  In  order 
to  fulfil  tnis  promise,  he,  on  his  return  to  England,  miposed  a  yearly  tax 
of  thirty  pence  upon  each  house  in  his  kingdom ;  the  like  tax  f«)r  the  same 
purpose  being  subsequently  levied  upon  the  whole  of  England,  was  even- 
tually claimed  by  Rome  as  a  tribute,  under  the  name  of  Peter's  pence,  in 
despite  of  the  notoriety  of  the  fact  that  it  was  originally  a  free  gift,  and 
levied  only  upon  one  kingdom.  Under  the  impression  or  the  pretence 
that  he  had  been  favoured  with  an  especial  command  revealed  to  him  in 
a  vision,  this  man,  once  so  cruel  and  now  so  superstitious,  founded  and 
endowed  a  magnificent  abbey  at  St.  Albans,  in  Hertfordshire,  to  the  hon- 
our of  the  relics  of  St.  Alban  the  Martyr,  which  he  asserted  ho  had  found 
at  that  place. 

Ill  as  OfTa  had  acquired  his  great  weight  in  the  Heptarchy,  his  reputa- 
tion for  courage  and  wisdom  was  so  great  that  he  attracted  the  notice  and 
was  honoured  both  with  the  political  alliance  and  the  personal  friendship  of 
Charlemagne.  After  a  long  reign  of  very  nearly  forty  years,  he  died  in  the 
year  794. 

Offa  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Egfrith,  who,  however,  survived  only  the 
short  space  of  five  months.  He  was  succeeded  by  Kenulph,  who  invaded 
the  kingdom  of  Kent,  barbarously  mutilated  the  king,  whom  he  took 

Krisoner  and  dethroned,  and  crowned  his  own  brother  Cuthred  in  his  stead, 
lenulph,  as  if  by  a  retributive  justice,  was  killed  in  a  revolt  of  the  East 
Anglians,  of  whose  kingdom  he  held  possession  through  the  treachery  and 
tyrannous  cruelty  of  Offa.  After  the  death  of  Kenulph  the  throne  was 
usually  earned  and  vacated  by  murder ;  and  in  this  anarchial  condition  the 
kingdom  remained  until  the  time  of  Egbert.  And  here  we  may  remark, 
en  passant,  that  neither  in  its  political  nor  civil  organization  did  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  state  of  society  exhibit  higher  examples  of  social  order  than  are 
usually  to  be  found  in  communities  entering  on  the  early  stages  of  civ- 
ilization. 

Essex  and  Sussex  were  the  smallest  and  the  most  insignificant  of  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  Heptarchy,  and  deserve  no  particular  mention,  even 
in  the  most  voluminous  and  detailed  history  until  the  union  of  the  whole 
Heptarchy,  to  which  event  we  shall  now  hasten. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  stout  resistance  which  the  Britons  made 
to  Cerdic  and  his  son  Kenric,  the  founders  of  the  kingdom  of  Wessex.    A 
succession  of  ambitious  and  warlike  kings  greatly  extended  the  territory 
and  increased  the  importance  of  this  kingdom,  which  was  extremely  pow 
erful,  though  in  much  internal  disorder,  when  its  throne  was  ascended  by 


lis 


THE  THEA8URY  OF  HlfTOBY 


Egbert,  in  the  yflar  800.  Thin  monarch  came  iiito  pomiPMioii  of  it  undei 
•omo  peculiar  advantage*.  A  great  |)orlioii  o(  his  life  had  been  itpent  at  the 
court  of  Chariernagrie,  and  h«  hatl  thu»  acmiired  greater  pulinii  an<l  know- 
ledge  than  UHiiaily  fell  to  the  lot  of  Saxon  kinKH.  Moreover,  war  and  the 
merit  attached  to  unmarried  life  had  bo  conjpletely  extniguished  the  origi- 
nal  royal  familien,  that  Kj^hert  was  at  thin  Inne  the  sole  male  royal  des- 
cendant of  the  original  coiiqneroi-s  of  Hritaiii,  who  claimed  to  be  the  de- 
scendants of  Woden,  ths  chief  deity  of  their  idolatrous  ancentora. 

Immediately  on  ascending  the  throne,  Kgbert  invaded  the  Hritons  in 
Cornwall,  and  inflicted  some  severe  defeats  upon  them.  Uut  before  he 
could  completely  subdue  their  country,  he  was  called  away  from  that  en- 
terprise  by  the  necessity  of  defending  his  own  country,  which  had  been 
invaded  in  his  absence  by  Bernulf,  kiiigof  Mercia. 

Mercia  and  Wessex  were  at  this  time  the  only  two  kingdoms  of  the  Hep. 
tarchy  which  had  any  considerable  power;  and  a  struggle  between  Kg- 
bert  and  Bernulf  was,  as  each  felt  and  confessed  it  to  be,  a  struggle  for 
the  sole  dominion  of  the  whole  island.  Apparently,  at  the  outset,  Mercia 
was  the  most  advantageously  circumstanced  for  carrying  on  this  struggle, 
for  that  kingdom  had  placed  its  tributary  princes  in  the  Kinedoms  of  Kent 
and  Essex,  .md  had  reduced  Kast  Anglia  to  an  almost  equal  state  of  sub- 
Jection. 

Egbert,  on  learning  the  attempt  that  Bernulf  wa.'i  making  upon  his  king- 
dom, hastened  by  forced  marches  to  arrest  his  progress,  and  speedily  came 
to  close  quarters  with  him  at  Klandum  in  Wilts.  A  sanguinary  and  ob- 
stinate battle  ensued.  Both  armies  fought  with  spirit,  and  both  were  very 
numerous ;  but  the  fortune  of  the  day  was  with  Egbert,  who  completely 
routed  the  Mercians.  Nor  was  he,  after  the  battle,  remiss  in  following 
up  the  great  blow  he  had  thus  struck  at  the  only  Enelish  power  that  could 
for  an  instant  pretend  to  rivalry  with  him.  He  detached  a  force  into  Kent 
under  his  son  Ethelvvolf,  who  easily  and  speedily  expelled  Baldred,  the 
tributary  king,  who  was  supported  there  by  Mercia,  Egbert  himself  at  the 
same  time  entering  Mercia  on  the  Oxfordshire  side.      Essex  was  con- 

J|uered  almost  without  an  eflfort,  and  the  East  Anglians,  without  waiting 
or  the  approach  of  Egbert,  rose  against  the  power  of  Bernulf,  who  lost 
his  life  in  the  attempt  to  reduce  them  ;i<?  tin  to  the  servitude  which  his 
tyranny  had  rendered  intolerable.  Ludican,  the  successor  of  Bernulf,  met 
with  the  same  fate  after  two  years  of  constant  struggle  and  frequent  de- 
feat, and  Egbert  now  found  no  diffituUy  in  penetrating  to  the  very  heart 
of  the  Mercian  territory,  and  subduing  to  hia  will  a  people  whose  spirit  was 
thoroughly  broken  by  a  long  and  constant  succession  of  calamities.  In 
order  to  reconcile  them  to  their  subjection  to  him,  he  skilfuly  flattered 
them  with  an  empty  show  of  independence,  by  allowing  their  native 
king,  Wiglaf,  to  hold  that  title  of  his  tributary,  though  with  the  firmest 
determination  that  the  title  should  not  carry  with  it  an  iota  of  real  and  in- 
V' •  jendent  power. 

ile  was  now,  by  the  disturbed  and  turbulent  condition  of  Northumber 
land,  invited  to  turn  his  arms  against  that  kingdom.  But  the  Northum 
brians,  deeply  impressed  with  his  high  reputation  for  valour  and  success, 
and  probably  sincerely  desirous  of  being  under  the  strong  st'^  >>  ^pern- 
ment  of  one  who  had  both  the  power  an  1  the  will  to  put  an  ena  u  i  .  ^  mi- 
archy  and  confusion  to  which  they  were  a  prey,  no  sooner  (it'iuii -,  b  :: 
near  approach  than  they  rendered  all  attack  on  his  part  wh  Vy  -,>  >iec' j- 
sary,  by  sending  deputies  to  meet  him  with  an  offer  of  their  submission, 
and  with  power  to  take,  vicariously,  oaths  of  allegiance  to  him.  Sincerely 
well  pleased  at  being  thus  met  even  more  than  half  way  in  hi?  wishes, 
Egbert  not  only  gave  their  envoys  a  very  gracious  reception,  but  also  vol- 
untarily l 'lowed  them  the  power  to  elect  a  tributary  king  of  their  own 
choire.     I.'i<     last  Anglia  he  also  granted  this  flattering  but  hollow  and 


THB  THICABURY  OF  HISTORY. 


tit 


yalueleaa  privileffo,  and  thus  aecurcd  to  himself  tun  good  will  or  the  people 
whom  ho  had  suojectcd,  und  the  interested  fldi'iity  of  titular  kings,  whose 
royalty,  nuch  as  it  was,  deptuuli  upon  his  breath  for  its  eximence,  and 
who,  living  (HI  the  spot,  luul  huvwMr  only  a  comparatively  limited  charge, 
could  detect  and  for  their  owti  naktjt  would  iippriso  hini  of  the  slighteiil 
symptoms  of  rebitllion.  The  whule  of  Ihc  H«'f)tarchy  was  now  in  reality 
subjected  to  KglH*rt,  whom,  dating  >r>ui  the  yt-.tr  ^-^7,  we  cunsid«r  as  the 
Arst  king  of  England. 


I 


CHAPTKR  V. 

THE  AftOLO-SAXONS  AFTKr   THK  OISSOMJTION   Or  TIIK  HKHTARCHT. — HrlaNI 
or  EGBERT,  ETMELWOLP,  AND  ELTHKMIALD. 

TiiR  vigorous  character  of  Egbert  was  well  cnlculiited  to  mike  the  Sax- 
oi'x  i^'Oiulof  having  him  for  a  monarch,  and  the  fact  of  the  royal  fumihes 
of  ihf  Heptarchy  being,  from  various  causes,  extinct,  still  farther  aidi.'d  in 
iiiaKin ,  iiis  rule  welcome,  and  the  union  of  the  various  states  into  one 
agreeable.  As  the  Saxons  of  the  various  kingdoms  had  originally  come 
not  from  different  countries  so  much  as  from  different  provinces,  and  as, 
during  their  long  residence  in  so  circumscribed  a  territory  an  EngUind,  ne- 
cessary and  frequent  intercourse  had,  in  despite  of  their  being  under  dif'. 
ferent  kings,  made  them  to  a  very  great  extent  one  people,  their  habits 
und  pursuits  were  similar,  und  in  their  language,  that  most  important  bond 
of  union  to  mankind,  they  scarcely  differed  more  considerably  tl  an  the 
inhabitants  of  Cornwall  and  thos'  of  Cumberland  do  at  the  present  lay. 

Freed  from  the  unavoidable  differences  and  strife  which  had  o(  iirred 
while  so  many  Jarring  royalties  were  crowded  into  such  a  narrow  a  id  un- 
divided  space,  they  now  seemed,  by  the  mere  force  of  their  union  in  oono 
body,  to  be  destined  to  be  at  once  prosperous  among  themselves,  am;  for- 
midable to  any  one  who  should  dare  to  attack  them  from  without.  All 
things  had  concurred  to  give  Egbert  the  supreme  power  in  England  ;  and 
all  things  seemed  now  to  concur  to  make  that  power  permanent  and  re- 
spectable. The  correctness  of  these  appearances,  and  the  real  degree  of 
force  possessed  by  the  united  people,  were  soon  to  be  tested. 

Britain,  which  both  by  condition  and  situation  seemed  so  nearly  alli^'d 
to  Gaul,  and  so  fitted  by  nature  to  be  subject  to  it,  was  now,  in  a  great 
measure,  to  owe  to  that  situation  the  attacks  of  an  enemy  that  scarcely 
knew  fear,  and  did  not  know  either  moderation  or  mercy.  We  allude  to  the 
Danes.  To  these  bold  and  sanguinary  marauders,  who  were  as  skilful  on 
the  ocean  as  they  were  unsparing  on  the  land,  the  very  name  of  Christi- 
anity was  absolutely  hateful.  We  have  seen  how  easily  in  England  the 
wild  and  unlettered  Saxons  were  led  into  that  faith;  but,  in  Germany,  the 
Emperor  Charlemagne,  instead  of  trying  to  lea'i  the  pagans  out  of  error 
into  truth,  departed  so  far  from  both  the  dictates  of  sound  policy  and  the 
true  spirit  of  Christianity,  as  to  endeavour  to  make  converts  to  the  religion 
of  peace  and  -^ood-will  at  the  point  of  the  sword ;  and,  when  resisted,  as 
it  was  quite  natural  that  he  should  be  by  a  people  unacquainted  with  the 
faith  he  wished  to  teach  them,  and  strongly  prejudiced  against  it  by  the 
style  in  which  his  teachings  were  conducted,  his  persecution — generous 
and  humane  though  he  naturally  was — assumed  a  character  which  would 
not  be  accurately  characterized  by  any  epithet  less  severe  than  the  word 
brutal.  Dei'imaled  when  goaded  into  revolt,  deprived  of  their  property  by 
fire,  and  of  their  dearest  relatives  by  the  sword,  many  thousands  of  the  pa- 
gan $a.x()ii!«  of  Germany  sought  refuge  in  Jutland  and  Denmark,  and  nat- 
urally, though  incorrectly,  judging  of  the  Christian  faith  by  the  conduct  oi 
the  Chrixiian  chajnpion    Charlemagne,  they  made  the  former  hateful  by 


120 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


by  tlieir  mere  relations  of  the  cruelties  of  the  latter.  When  the  feeble  and 
divided  posterity  of  Charlemagne  made  the  French  provinces  a  fair  mark 
for  bold  invaders,  the  mingled  races  of  Jutes,  Danes,  and  Saxons,  known 
in  France  under  the  general  name  of  Northmen  or  Normans,  made  de' 
■cents  upon  the  maritime  countries  of  France,  and  then  pushed  their 
devastating  enterprises  far  inland.  England,  as  we  have  said,  from  its 
mere  proximity  to  France,  was  viewed  by  these  northern  marauders  as 
being  fn  some  sort  the  same  country ;  and  its  inhabitants,  as  being  equal- 
ly Christian  with  the  French,  were  equally  hated,  and  equally  considered 
fit  objects  of  spoliation  and  violence.  As  early  as  the  reign  of  Brithriu  in 
the  kingdom  of  Wessex,  in  787,  a  body  of  these  bold  and  unscrupulous 
pirates  landed  in  that  kingdom.  That  their  intention  was  hostile  there 
can  be  little  doubt,  for,  when  merely  questioned  about  it,  they  slew  the 
magistrate  and  hastily  made  off.  In  the  year  794  they  landed  in  Nor- 
thumberland and  completely  sacked  a  monastery,  but  a  storm  preventing 
them  from  making  their  escape,  they  were  surrounded  by  the  Northum- 
brian people,  and  completely  cut  to  pieces. 

During  the  first  five  years  of  Egbert's  supreme  reign  in  England,  neither 
domestic  disturbances  nor  the  invasion  of  foreign  foes  occurred  to  ob- 
struct his  measures  for  promoting  the  prosperity  of  his  people.  But  about 
the  end  of  that  time,  and  while  he  was  still  profoundly  engaged  in  promoting 
the  peaceable  pursuits  which  were  so  necessary  to  the  wealth  and  comfon 
of  the  kingdom,  a  horde  of  Danes  made  a  sudden  descent  upon  the  isle  of 
Sheppy,  plundered  the  inhabitants  to  a  great  amount,  and  made  their  de- 
barkation ill  safety,  and  almost  without  any  opposition.  Warned  by  this 
event  of  his  liability  to  future  visits  of  the  same  unwelcome  nature,  Eg- 
bert held  himselfand  a  competent  force  in  readiness  to  receive  them ;  and, 
when  in  the  following  year  (x.n.  832)  they  landed  from  thirty-five  ships  upon 
the  coast  of  Dorset,  tliey  were  suddenly  encountered  by  Egbert,  near  Char- 
mouth,  in  that  county.  An  obstinate  and  severe  contest  ensued,  in  which 
the  Danes  lost  a  great  number  of  their  force,  and  were,  at  length,  totally 
defeated;  but  as  they  were  skilfully  posted,  and  had  taken  care  to  pre- 
serve aline  of  communication  with  the  sea,  the  survivors  contrived  to  es- 
cape to  their  ships. 

Two  years  elapsed  from  the  battle  of  Charmouth  before  the  pirates 
again  made  their  appearance ;  and,  as  in  that  battle  they  had  suffered  very 
severely,  the  Engiisli  began  to  hope  that  they  would  not  again  return  to 
molest  them.  But  the  Danes,  knowing  the  ancient  enmity  that  existed 
between  the  Saxons  and  the  British  remnant  in  Cornwall,  entered  into  an 
alliance  with  the  latter,  and,  landing  in  their  country,  had  an  easy  open 
road  to  Devonshire  and  the  other  fertile  provinces  of  the  West.  But  here 
again  the  activity  and  unslumbering  watchfulness  of  Egbert  enabled  him 
to  limit  their  ravages  merely  to  their  first  furious  onset.  He  came  up 
with  them  at  Hengesdown,  and  again  they  were  defeated  with  a  great  di- 
minution of  their  numbers. 

This  was  the  last  service  of  brilliant  importance  that  Egbert  performed 
for  England,  and  just  as  there  was  every  appearence  that  his  valour  and 
sagacity  would  be  more  than  ever  necessary  to  the  safety  of  the  country, 
he  died,  in  the  year  838,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  son  Ethelwolf. 

The  very  first  act  of  EthelwolPs  reign  was  the  division  of  the  country 
which  the  wisdom  and  ability  of  his  father,  aided  by  singular  good  for- 
tune, had  so  happily  united.  Threatened  as  the  kingdom  so  frequently 
was  from  without,  its  best  and  chiefest  hope  obviously  rested  upon  its 
union,  and  the  consequent  facility  of  concentrating  its  whole  fighting 
force  upon  any  threatened  point.  But,  unable  to  see  this,  or  too  indolent 
to  bear  the  whole  government  of  the  country,  Ethelwolf  made  over  the 
whole  of  Kent,  Sussex,  and  Essex,  to  his  son  Athelstan  It  was  for 
tunatc  that,  under  such  a  prince,  wlio  at  the  very  outset  of  his  reign  could 


THB  TRICASURY  OF  HISTURY. 


itu 


eommit  an  error  so  capital,  England  had,  in  most  of  her  principal  placed, 
magistrates  ur  governors  of  bravery  and  ability. 

Thus  Wolfhere,  governor  of  flainpshirc,  put  to  the  rout  a  strong  party 
of  the  marauders  who  had  landed  at  Southampton,  from  nofewerllian  three 
and-thirty  sail ;  and,  in  the  same  year,  Athelhelm,  governor  of  Dorsetshire, 
encountered  and  defeated  another  powerful  body  of  tliem  who  hud  land- 
ed at  Portsmouth ;  though,  in  this  case,  unfortunately,  the  gallailt  govern- 
or died  of  his  wounds.  Aware  of  the  certain  disadvantages  to  which  they 
would  be  exposed  in  fighting  pitched  battles  in  an  enemy's  country,  the 
Danes,  in  their  subsequent  landing,  took  all  possible  care  to  avoid  the  ne- 
cessity of  doing  so.  Their  plan  was  to  swoop  suddenly  down  upon  a  re- 
tired part  of  the  coast,  plunder  the  country  as  far  inhmd  as  they  could 
prudently  advance,  and  re-embark  with  their  booty  before  any  consider- 
able force  could  be  got  together  to  oppose  them.  In  this  manner  they 
plundered  Bast  Anglia  and  Kent,  and  their  depredations  were  the  more 
distressing,  because  ihey  by  no  means  limited  themselves  to  booty  in  the 
usual  sense  of  that  term,  but  carried  off  men,  women,  and  even  children 
into  slavery. 

The  frequency  and  the  desultoriness  of  these  attacks,  at  length,  kept  the 
whole  coastward  in  a  perpetual  state  of  anxiety  and  alarm ;  the  inhab- 
itants of  each  place  fearing  to  hasten  to  assist  the  inhabitants  of  another 
place,  lest  some  other  party  of  the  pirates,  in  the  meantime,  should  rav- 
age and  burn  their  own  homes.  Tnere  was  another  peculiarity  in  this 
kind  of  warfare,  which  to  one  order  of  men,  at  least,  made  it  more  terri- 
ble than  even  civil  war  itself;  making  their  descents  not  merely  in  the 
love  of  gain,  but  also  in  a  burning  and  intense  hatred  of  Christianity,  the 
Danes  made  no  distinction  between  laymen  and  clerks,  unless,  indeed,  that 
they  often  showed  themselves,  if  possible,  more  inexorably  cruel  to  the 
latter. 

Having  their  cupidity  excited  by  large  and  frequent  booty,  and  being, 
moreover,  flushed  with  their  success  on  the  coast  of  France,  the  Danes  or 
Northmen  at  length  made  their  appearance  almost  annually  in  England. 
In  each  succeeding  year  they  appeared  in  greater  numbers,  and  conducted 
themselves  with  greater  audacity:  and  they  now  visited  the  English 
shores  in  such  swarms  that  it  was  apparent  they  contemplated  nothing 
less  than  the  actual  conquest  and  settlement  of  the  whole  country.  Divi- 
ding themselves  into  distinct  bodies,  they  directed  their  attacks  upon  dif- 
ferent points ;  but  the  Saxons  were  naturally  warlike,  the  governors 
of  most  of  the  important  places  seaward  were,  as  we  have  already  re- 
-  marked,  well  fitted  for  their  important  trust,  and  the  very  frequency  of  the 
attacks  of  the  Danes  had  induced  a  vigilance  and  organization  among  the 
people  themselves  which  rendered  it  far  less  easy  than  it  had  formerly 
been  to  surprise  them.  At  Wiganburgh  the  Danes  were  defeated  with 
very  great  loss  by  Ceorle,  governor  of  Devonshire,  while  another  body  of 
the  marauders  was  attacked  and  defeated  by  Athelstan,  in  person,  off 
Sandwich.  In  this  case,  in  addition  to  a  considerable  loss  in  men,  the 
Danes  had  nine  of  their  vessels  sunk,  and  only  saved  the  rest  by  a  pre- 
cipitate flight.  But  in  this  year  the  Danes  showed  a  sign  of  iuulacious 
confidence  in  their  strength  and  resources  which  promised  but  ill  for  the 
future  repose  of  England  ;  for  though  they  had  been  severely  chastised  in 
more  thaiione  quarter,  and  had  sustained  the  loss  of  some  of  their  l)ravest 
men,  the  main  body  of  them,  instead  of  retreating  wholly  from  the  island, 
as  they  had  usually  done  towards  the  close  of  the  autumn,  fortified  them- 
selves in  the  Isle  of  Sheppy,and  made  it  their  winter  quarters.  The  prom- 
ise of  early  recommencement  of  hostilities  tliat  was  thus  tacitly  held  out 
was  fully  and  promptlv  fulfilled. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  852,  the  Danes  who  had  wintered  in  the  Isle  of 
Thiinet,  were  reinforced  by  the  arrival  of  a  fresh  horde,  in  350  vessels 


■  r*- 


m 


TKE  TREAbURY  OF  HISTORY. 


and  ilie  whole  marched  from  the  Isle  of  Thanet  inland,  burning  and  de- 
stroying whatever  was  not  sufficiently  portable  for  plunder.  Brichtric, 
who— so  far  had  Ethclbert  allowed  the  disjunction  of  the  kingdom  to  pro- 
ceed— was  now  governor  and  titular  king  of  Mercia,  made  a  vain  attempt 
to  resist  them,  and  was  utterly  routed.  Canterbury  and  London  were 
sacked  and  burned  and  the  disorderly  bands  of  the  victorious  enemy 
spread  into  the  very  heart  of  Surrey.  Ethelwolf,  though  an  indolent  king, 
was  by  no  means  destitute  of  a  certain  princely  pride  and  daring.  En- 
raged beyond  measure  at  the  audacity  of  the  marauders,  and  deeply 
grieved  at  the  sufferings  they  inflicted  upon  his  subjects,  he  assembled  the 
West  Saxons,  whom,  accompanied  by  his  second  son  Elheibald  as  his  lieu- 
tenant, he  led  against  the  most  considerable  body  of  the  Danes.  He  en- 
countered them  at  Okely,  and,  although  they  fought  with  their  usual  reck- 
less and  pertinacious  courage,  the  Saxons  discomfited  and  put  them  to 
flight.  This  victory  gave  the  country  at  least  a  temporary  respite;  for 
the  Danes  had  suffered  so  much  by  it,  that  they  were  glad  to  postpone  fur- 
ther operations,  and  seek  shelter  and  rest  within  their  intrenchment  in  the 
Isle  of  Thanet.  Thither  they  were  followed  by  Huda  and  Ealher,  the  gov- 
ernors of  Surrey  and  Kent,  who  bravely  attacked  them.  At  the  com- 
mencement <if  the  action  the  advantage  was  very  considerably  on  the  side 
of  the  Saxons:  but  the  fortune  of  war  suddenly  changed,  the  Danes  re- 
covered their  lost  grounds  and  the  Saxons  were  totally  routed,  both 
their  gallant  leaders  remaining  dead  upon  the  field  of  battle :  a.d.  853. 

Desperate  as  the  situation  of  the  country  was,  and  threatening  as  was 
the  aspect  of  the  Danes,  who,  after  defeating  Huda  and  Eallier,  removed 
from  the  Isle  of  Thanet  to  that  of  Sheppey,  which  they  deemed  more  con- 
venient for  winter  quarters,  Ethelwolf,  who  was  extremely  superstitious 
and  bigoted,  and  who,  in  spite  of  the  occasional  flashes  ofehivalric  spirit 
whicli  he  exhibited,  was  far  more  fit  for  a  monk  than  for  either  a  monarch 
or  a  military  commander,  this  year  resolved  upon  making  a  pilgrimage 
to  Rome.  He  went  and  carried  with  him  his  fourth  son,  the  subsequently 
"Great"  Alfred,  but  who  was  then  a  child  of  only  six  years  old.  At 
Rome  Ethelwolf  remained  for  one  year,  passing  his  lime  in  prayer;  earn- 
ing the  flatteries  and  favour  of  the  monks  by  liberalities  to  the  church,  on 
which  he  lavished  sums  which  were  too  really  and  terribly  needed  by  his 
own  impoverished  and  suffering  country.  As  a  specimen  of  his  profusion 
in  this  pious  squandering,  he  gave  to  the  papal  see,  in  perpetuity,  the  year- 
ly sum  of  three  hundred  maucuses — each  maucus  weighing,  says  Hume, 
about  the  same  as  the  English  half  crown — to  be  applied  in  three  equal 
portions:  first,  the  providing  and  maintaining  lamps  for  St.  Peter's;  sec- 
ond, for  the  same  to  St.  Paul's,  and  thirdly,  for  the  use  of  the  pope  him- 
self. At  tlie  end  of  the  year's  residence  which  he  had  promised  himself 
he  returned  home ;  happily  for  his  subjects,  whom  his  prolonged  stay  at 
Rome  could  not  have  failed  to  impoverish  ;  his  foolish  facility  in  giving, 
being  not  a  whit  more  remarkable  than  the  unscrupulous  alacrity  of  the 
papal  court  in  taking.  On  reaching  England,  he  was  far  more  astonished 
than  gratified  at  the  slate  of  affairs  there.  Athelstan,  his  eldest  son,  to 
whom,  as  we  have  before  mentioned,  he  had  given  Kent,  Sussex  and  Es- 
sex, had  been  some  time  dead;  and  Elheibald,  the  second  son,  having,  in 
consequence,  assumed  the  regency  of  the  kingdom  during  his  father's  ab- 
sence, had  allowed  filial  affection  and  the  loyalty  due  to  a  sovereign  to  be 
conquered  by  ambition.  Many  of  the  warlike  nobility  held  Ethelwolf  in 
contempt,  and  did  not  scruple  to  aflirm  that  he  was  far  more  fit  for  cowl 
and  cloister  tlian  for  the  warrior's  weapon  and  the  monarch's  throne.  The 
young  ;ind  ambitious  prince  lent  too  facile  an  ear  to  these  disloyal  derjders 
and  suffered  himself  to  he  persuaded  to  join  and  head  a  party  to  delhmne 
his  father  and  set  himself  up  in  his  place.  But  Ethelwolf,  though  despised 
by  the  ruder  and  fiercer  nobles,  was  not  without  numerous  and  sincere 


THE  TEEA8URY  OF  HI8T0RV. 


123 


at 


fiiends  ;  his  parly,  long  as  he  had  been  absent,  was  as  strong  and  as  zeal- 
ous as  that  of  the  prince ;  both  parties  were  of  impetuous  temper  and 
well  inclined  to  decide  the  controversy  by  blows ;  and  the  country  seemed 
to  be  upon  the  very  brink  of  civil  war,  of  which  the  Danes  would  no 
doubt  have  availed  themselves  to  subject  the  island  altogether.  But  this 
extremity  was  prevented  by  Ethelwulf  himself,  who  voluntarily  proffered 
to  remove  all  occasion  of  strife  by  sharing  his  kingdom  with  Ethelbald. 
The  division  was  accordingly  made  ;  the  king  contenting  himself  with 
the  eastern  moiety  of  the  kingdom,  which,  besides  other  points  of  inferior- 
ity, was  far  the  most  exposed. 

It  were  scarcely  reasonable  to  expect  that  he  who  had  not  shrewdness 
and  firmness  enough  to  protect  his  own  rights  and  interests,  would  prove 
a  more  efficient  guardian  of  those  of  his  people.  His  residence  at  Rome 
had  given  the  papal  court  and  the  clergy  a  clear  view  of  the  whole  extent 
of  the  weakness  of  his  nature  ;  and  the  facility  with  which  he  had  parted 
with  his  cash  in  exchange  for  hollow  and  cozening  compliments,  marked 
him  out  as  a  prince  exactly  fitted  to  aid  the  English  clergy  in  their  en- 
deavour to  aggrandize  themselves.  And  tlie  event  proved  the  correctness 
of  their  judgment;  for  at  the  very  same  time  that  he  presented  the  cler- 
gy with  the  tithes  of  all  the  land's  produce,  which  they  had  never  yet  re- 
ceived, though  the  country  had  been  for  nearly  two  centuries  divided  into 
parishes,  he  expressly  exempted  them  and  the  church  revenues  in  gen- 
eral from  every  sort  of  tax,  even  though  made  for  national  defence;  and 
this  at  a  moment  when  the  national  exigences  were  at  their  greatest 
height,  and  when  the  national  peril  was  such  that  it  might  have  been  sup- 
posed that  even  a  wise  selfishness  would  have  induced  the  clergy  to  con 
tribute  towards  its  support ;  the  more  especially,  as  towards  them  and 
their  property  the  Danes  had  ever  exhibited  a  peculiar  malignity. 

Ethelwolf  died  in  857,  about  two  years  after  he  had  granted  to  the  En- 
glish clergy  the  important  boon  of  the  tithes;  and  he,  by  will,  confirmed 
to  Ethelbald  the  western  moiety  of  the  kingdom,  of  which  he  had  already 
put  him  in  possession,  and  left  the  eastern  moiety  to  his  second  eldest  sur- 
viving son  Ethelbert. 

The  reign  of  Ethelbald  was  short ;  nor  was  his  character  such  as  to 
make  it  desirable  for  the  sake  of  his  people  that  it  had  been  longer.  He 
was  of  extremely  debauched  habits,  and  gave  especial  scandal  and  disgust 
to  his  people  by  marrying  his  mother-in-law,  Judith,  the  second  wife  of 
his  deceased  father.  To  the  comments  of  the  people  upon  this  incestuous 
and  disgraceful  connection  he  paid  no  attention ;  but  the  censure  of  the 
church  was  not  to  be  so  lightly  regarded,  and  the  advice  and  authority  of 
Swithin,  bishop  of  Winchester,  induced  him  to  consent  to  be  divorced. 
He  died  in  the  year  860,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  brother  Ethelbert,  and 
the  kingdom  thus,  once  more,  was  united  under  one  sovereign 


shed 
,  to 
Es- 
,  in 
ab- 

to  be 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  REIGNS  OF  ETHELBERT  AND  ETHELREU. 

The  reign  of  Ethelbert  was  greatly  disturbed  by  the  frequent  descents 
of  the  Danes.  On  one  occasion  they  made  a  furious  attack  upon  Win- 
chester, and  did  an  immense  deal  of  mischief  in  the  neighbourhood,  but 
were  finally  beaten  off  with  great  loss ;  and,  on  anotfier  occasion,  the 
horde  of  them  that  was  settled  in  the  Isle  of  Thanet,  having  thrown 
Ethelbert  off  his  guard  by  their  apparent  determination  to  keep  sacred  a 
treaty  into  which  they  had  entered  with  him,  suddenly  broke  from  their 
quarters,  marched  in  great  numbers  into  Kent,  and  there  committed  the 
most  wanton  outriges  in  addition  to  -eizing  immense  booty. 


194 


THE  TRBASUEY  OF  HISTORY. 


Elhelbert  reigned  solely  over  England  but  little  more  than  five  years  ; 
he  died  in  866,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  brother  Ethelred.  He,  too,  was 
greatly  harrassed  by  the  Danes.  Very  early  in  his  reign,  connived  at  and 
aided  by  the  East  Angles,  who  even  furnished  them  with  the  horses 
necessary  for  their  predatory  expedition,  they  made  their  way  into  the 
kingdom  of  Northumberland,  and  seized  upon  the  wealthy  and  Important 
city  of  York.  Mlhi  and  Osbrichi,  two  high-spirited  Northumbrian  princes, 
endeavoured  to  expel  tliem,  but  were  defeated  and  perished  in  the  assault. 
Flushed  with  their  success,  the  Danes  now  marched,  under  the  command 
of  their  terrible  leaders,  Hubba  and  Hinguar,  into  Mercia,  and  after 
much  carnage  and  rapine  established  themselves  in  Nottingham,  from 
which  central  situation  they  menaced  the  ruin  of  the  whole  kingdom. 
The  Mercians,  finding  that  their  local  authorities  and  local  forces  were  no 
match  for  desperadoes  so  numerous  and  so  determined,  despatched  mes- 
sengers to  Ethelred,  imploring  his  personal  interference  on  their  behalf, 
and  the  king,  accompanied  by  his  brother  Alfred,  who  had  already  begun 
to  display  those  talents  which  subsequently  won  him  an  imperishable 
fame,  marched  to  Nottingham  with  a  powerful  army,  a-d.  870. 

The  gallantry  and  activity  of  the  king  and  his  brother  speedily  drove 
the  Danes  from  Mercia,  and  they  retired  into  Northumberland  with  the 
apparent  design  of  remaining  there  quietly.  But  peace  was  foreign  to 
their  very  nature,  and,  forgetful  of  their  recent  obligations  to  the  treachery 
of  the  East  Angles,  they  suddenly  rushed  forth  upon  them,  butchered  Ed- 
mund, their  tributary  prince,  in  cold  blood,  and  committed  the  most  exten- 
sive havoc  and  depredations,  especially  upon  the  monasteries. 

The  Danes  having,  in  871,  made  Beading  a  station,  from  which  they 
greatly  harrassed  the  surrounding  country,  Ethelred  determined  to  dis- 
lodge them.  On  desiring  the  aid  of  the  Mercians  he  was  disloyally  re- 
fused, they,  unmindful  of  the  benefit  they  had  received  from  him,  being 
desirous  of  getting  rid  of  their  dependence  upon  him,  and  becoming  a 
separate  people  as  in  the  Heptarchy.  Even  this  shameful  conduct  of  the 
Mercians  could  not  move  Ethelred  from  his  purpose.  Aided  by  Alfred, 
from  whom,  during  his  whole  reign,  he  received  the  most  zealous  and 
efficient  assistance,  he  raised  a  large  force  of  his  hereditary  subjects,  the 
West  Saxons,  and  marched  against  Reading.  Being  defeated  in  an  action 
without  the  town,  the  Danes  retreated  within  the  gates,  and  Ethelred  com- 
menced a  seige,  but  was  driven  from  before  the  place  by  a  sudden  and 
well-conducted  sally  of  the  garrison.  An  action  shortly  afterwards  took 
place  at  Aston,  nf)t  far  from  Reading,  at  which  an  incident  occurred  which 
gives  us  a  strange  notion  of  the  manners  of  the  age.  A  division  of  the 
English  army  under  Alfred  commenced  the  battle,  and  was  so  skilfully 
surrounded  by  the  enemy  while  yet  in  a  disadvantageous  position  and  not 
fairly  formed  in  order  of  battle,  that  it  was  in  the  most  imminent  danger 
of  being  completely  cut  to  pieces.  Alfred  sent  an  urgent  message  to  his 
brother  for  assistance,  but  Ethelred  was  hearing  mass,  and  positively  re- 
fused to  stir  a  step  until  its  conclusion.  Had  the  day  gone  against  the 
Saxons,  FJthelred's  conduct  on  this  occasion  would  probably  have  been 
censured  even  by  the  priests,  but  as  the  Danes  were  put  lo  the  rout,  and 
with  signal  slaughter,  the  whole  credit  of  the  victory  was  given  to  the 
piety  of  Ethelred. 

Beateti  out  of  Berkshire,  the  Danes  now  took  up  a  strong  position  at 
Basing,  in  Hants.  Here  they  received  a  powerful  reinforcement  from 
abroad,  and  sent  out  marauding  parties  in  all  directions  with  great  suc- 
cess. Such,  indeed,  was  their  havoc,  that  Englishmen  of  all  ranks 
began  to  contemplate,  with  unfeigned  terror,  the  near  [Probability  of  their 
whole  country  being  overrun  by  these  merciless  and  greedy  invaders 
Thn  anxiety  of  Ethelred  occasioned  by  these  gloomy  prospects,  which 


THB  TREA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


125 


were  still  farther  increased  by  the  impatience  of  the  Mercians  and  others 
under  his  rule,  so  much  augmented  the  irritation  of  a  wound  he  had  received 
'1  the  battle  at  Basing,  that  it  terminated  his  life  in  the  year  871 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  BEION  OF  ALFRED  THE  GREAT. 

ALFRED  succeeded  his  brother  Ethelred,  and  scarce  were  the  funeral 
rites  performed  before  he  found  it  necessary  to  march  against  the  enemy, 
who  had  now  seized  upon  Milton.  At  the  outset,  Alfred  had  considerably 
the  advantage,  but  his  force  was  very  weak  compared  to  that  of  the  enemy, 
and,  advancing  too  far,  he  not  only  missed  the  opportunity  of  completing 
their  defeat,  but  even  enabled  them  to  claim  the  victory.  But  their  vic- 
tory— if  such  it  was— cost  them  so  many  of  their  bravest  men  that  they 
became  alarmed  for  the  consequences  of  continuing  the  war,  and  entered 
into  a  treaty  by  which  they  bound  themselves  altogether  to  depart  from 
the  kingdom.  To  enable  them  to  do  this  they  were  conducted  to  London, 
but  on  arriving  there  the  old  leaven  became  too  strong  for  their  virtuous 
resolutions,  and,  breaking  off  from  their  appointed  line  of  march,  they 
began  to  plunder  the  country  round  London  for  many  miles.  Burthred, 
the  tributary  prince  of  Mercia,  of  which  London  formed  a  part,  thinking 
it  improbable,  after  his  shameful  desertion  of  Alfred's  brother  on  a  former 
occasion,  that  Alfred  would  now  feel  inclined  to  assist  him,  made  a  treaty 
with  the  Danes,  by  which,  in  consideration  of  a  considerable  sum  of 
money,  they  agreed  to  cease  from  ravaging  his  dominions,  and  remove 
themselves  into  Lincolnshire ;  but  they  had  on  former  occasions  laid 
that  county  waste,  and  finding  that  it  had  not  yet  so  far  recovered  as  to 
promise  them  any  booty  worth  having,  they  suddenly  marched  back  again 
upon  Mercia;  then  establishing thempelves  at  Repton, in  Derbyshire, they 
commenced  their  usual  career  of  slaughter  and  rapine  in  that  neighbour- 
hood. This  new  instance  of  Danish  perfidy  filled  Burthred  with  despair, 
and  seeing  no  probability  of  his  being  able  either  to  chase  the  Danes  away, 
or  to  render  them  peaceably  disposed  either  by  force  or  bribe,  he  aban- 
doned his  territory  altogether,  proceeded  to  Rome,  and  there  took  up  his 
abode  in  a  monastery,  where  he  continued  until  his  death.  Burthred, 
who  was  brother-in-law  to  Alfred,  was  the  last  titular  and  tributary  king 
of  Mercia. 

The  utter  abandonment  of  the  English  cause  by  Burthred  left  it  no  other 
leading  defender  but  Alfred :  a.d.  871.  Brave  and  able  as  that  rjrince  was, 
his  situation  was  now  truly  terrible.  New  swarms  of  Danes  came  over, 
under  the  leadership  of  Guthrum,  Osital,  and  Amund.  One  band  of  the 
host  thus  formed  took  up  their  quarters  in  Northumberland,  and  another 
Cambridge,  whence  the  latter  marched  for  Wareham,  in  Dorsetshire,  and 
thus  settled  themselves  in  the  very  midst  of  Alfred's  territory.  This  cir- 
cumstance, from  Alfred's  superior  knowledge  of  the  country  and  his  facil- 
ity of  obtaining  supplies,  gave  hiin  advantages  of  which  he  so  ably  and 
promptly  availed  himself,  that  the  Danes  were  glad  to  engage  themselves 
to  depart.  They  had  now,  however,  become  so  notorious  for  breaking 
their  treaties,  that  Alfred,  in  concluding  this  one  with  them,  resorted  to 
an  expedient  very  characteristic  of  that  rude  and  superstitious  age.  He 
made  iheni  confirm  their  pledges  by  oaths  upon  holy  reliques.  He  thought 
it  unlikely  that  oven  Danes  would  venture  to  depart  from  an  agreement 
made  with  a  ceremony  which  was  then  thought  so  tremendous,  and  even 
should  they  he  ijnpious  enough  to  do  so,  he  felt  quite  certain  that  theii 
awful  perjury  would  not  fail  to  draw  down  full  destruction  upon  them. 
But  the  Danes,  who  hated  Christianity,  and  held  its  forms  in  utter  con 


196 


THE  TRKAeURY  OF  HISTOEY. 


tempt,  no  sooner  found  themselves  freed  from  the  disadvantiigeoim  poi- 
tion  in  which  Alfred  had  placed  them,  than  they  fell  without  warning;  upon 
his  astounded  army,  put  it  completely  to  flight,  and  then  hastened  to  take 
possession  of  Exeter.     Undismayed  by  even  this  new  proof  of  the  faith- 
less and  indomitable  nature  of  the  enemy,  Alfred  exerted  himself  fio  dili- 
gently, that  he  got  together  new  forces,  and  fought  no  fewer  than  eight 
considerable  battles  within  twelve  months.    This  vigour  was  more  eflfec- 
tual  against  such  a  foe  than  any  treaty,  however  solemn,  and  they  once 
more  found  themselves  reduced  to  an  extremity  which  compelled  tliom  to 
sue  for  peace.    As  Alfred's  sole  wish  was  to  free  his  suiyects  from  the 
intolerable  evils  incident  to  having  their  country  perpetually  made  the 
theatre  of  war,  he  cheerfully  agreed  to  grant  them  peace  and  permission 
to  settle  on  the  coast,  on  the  sole  condition  that  they  should  live  peace- 
ably with  his  subjects,  and  not  allow  any  new  invaders  to  ravage  the 
country.    While  tiiey  were  distressed,  and  in  danger,  the  Danes  were 
well  pleased  with  these  terms,  but  just  as  the  treaty  was  concluded  a  re- 
inforcement  arrived  to  them  from  abroad.   All  thought  of  peace  and  treaty 
was  at  once  laid  aside  by  them;  they  hastened,  in  all  directions,  to  join 
the  new  comers,  seized  upon  the  important  town  of  Chippenham,  and  re- 
commenced their  old  system  of  plundering,  murdering,  and  destroying,  in 
every  direction,  for  miles  around  their  quarters.    The  Saxons,  not  even 
excepting  the  heroic  Alfred  himself,  now  gave  up  all  hope  of  success  in 
the  struggle  in  which  they  had  so  long  and  so  bravely  been  (,'ngaged. 
Many  fled  to  Wales  and  llie  continent,  while  the  generality  submitted  to 
the  invaders,  contented  to  save  life  and  land  at  tne  expense  of  national 
honour  and  individual  freedom.    It  was  in  vain  that  Alfred  reminded  the 
chief  men  among  the  Saxons  of  the  sanguinary  successes  th(!y  had 
achieved  in  the  time  past,  and  endeavoured  to  persuade  them  that  new 
successes  would  attend  new  efforts.     Men's  spirits  were  now  so  utterly 
subdued  that  the  Danes  were  looked  upon  as  irresistible ;  and  the  heroic 
and  unfortunate  Alfred,  unable  to  raise  sufllcient  force  to  warrant  him 
in  again  endeavouring  to  save  his  country  from  the  yoke  of  the  foreign 
foeman,  was  fain  to  seek  safety  in  Concealment,  and  to  console  himself  in 
his  temporary  inactivity  with  the  hope  that  the  oppressions  of  the  Danes 
would  be  so  unmeasured  and  intolerable,  that  even  the  most  peace-loving 
and  indoleut  of  the  Saxons  would,  at  no  distant  day,  be  goaded  into  revolt. 
Unattended  even  by  a  servant,  Alfred,  disguised  in  the  coarse  habit  of  a 
peasant,  wandered  from  one  obscure  hiding-place  to  another.    One  of 
these  was  the  lowly  hut  of  a  neatherd,  who  had  in  happier  days  been  in 
his  service.    The  man  faithfully  obeyed  the  charge  given  to  him  by  the 
king  not  to  reveal  his  rank  even  to  the  good  woman  of  the  house.     She, 
unsuspicious  of  the  quality  of  her  guest,  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal  her 
opinion  that  so  able  a  man,  in  full  health,  and  with  an  extremely  vigorous 
appetite,  might  find  some  better  employment,  bad  though  the  tirncb  were, 
than  moping  about  and  muttering  to  himself.     On  one  occasion  she  still 
more  strongly  gave  her  opinion  of  the  idleness  of  her  guest.     Me  was 
seated  before  the  ample  wood  fire,  putting  his  bow  and  arrow  in  order  as 
she  put  some  wheaten  cakes  down  to  bake,  and  being  called  away  by 
some  other  domestic  business,  she  desired  Alfred  to  mind  the  cakes,  giving 
hini  especial  charge  to  turn  them  frequently  lest  they  should  be  burned. 
The  king  promised  due  obedience,  but  scarcely  had  his  imperious  hostesi 
left  him  when  he  fell  into  a  profound  reverie  on  his  own  forlorn  and  aban- 
doned condition,  and  the  manifold  miseries  of  his  country.     It  is  probable 
that,  during  that  h>ng  sad  day-dream,  more  than  one  thought  suggcisted 
itself  to  Alfred,  by  which  England,  at  a  future  day,  was  to  be  greatly 
benefited.    But,  assuredly,  his  thoughts  were,  for  that  time  at  least,  of 
little  benefit  to  his  hostess,  who,  on  her  return  to  the  iiottage,  found  the 
king  deep  buried  in  his  gloomy  thoughts,  and  her  cakes  done,  indeed,  but 


1 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


137 


by 


aone — to  a  cinder.  The  good  woman's  anger  now  knew  no  bounds  ;  oaf, 
lubber,  and  lazy  loon,  were  the  mildest  names  which  she  bestowed  upon 
him,  as,  with  mingled  unger  and  vexation,  she  contrasted  his  indolence  in 
the  matter  or  baking,  with  his  alacrity  in  eating  what  he  found  ready 
baked  Tor  his  use. 

So  successful  had  Alfred  been  in  destroying  all  traces  of  his  wander 
ings,  that  Hubba  and  other  leading  Danes,  who  had  at  first  made  search 
after  him  with  all  the  activity  and  eagerness  of  extreme  hate,  not  un- 
iningled  with  fear,  at  length  became  persuaded  that  he  had  either  left 
the  country  altogether,  or  perished  miserably  ere  he  could  find  means  and 
o|)poi-tunity  to  do  so.  Finding  that  his  enemies  had  discontinued  their 
st-arch  after  him,  Alfred  now  began  to  conceive  hopes  of  being  able  once 
more  to  call  some  friends  to  his  side.  For  this  purpose  he  betook  him- 
self to  Somersetshire,  to  a  spot  with  which  he  had  accidentally  become 
acquainted,  which  singularly  united  obscurity  and  capability  of  being  de- 
fended. A  morass  formed  by  the  overflowing  of  the  rivers  Parret  and 
Thame  had  nearly  in  its  centre  about  a  couple  of  acres  of  firm  land. 
The  morass  itself  was  not  safely  practicable  by  any  one  not  well  acquain- 
ted with  the  concealed  paths  that  led  tlirough  it  to  the  little  terra  firma, 
and  it  was  further  secured  from  hostile  visitors  by  numerous  other  morasses 
no  less  difl?cult  and  dangerous,  while  by  a  dense  growth  of  forest  trees 
it  was  on  every  side  environed  and  sheltered.  Here  he  built  himself  a 
rude  hut,  and,  having  found  means  to  communicate  with  some  cf  the  most 
failiiful  of  his  personal  friends,  it  was  not  long  before  he  was  placed  at 
the  head  of  a  small  but  valiant  band.  Sallying  from  this  retreat  under  the 
cover  of  tiie  night,  and  always,  when  practicable,  returning  again  before 
the  morning,  he  harassed  and  spoiled  the  Danes  to  a  very  great  extent; 
and  his  attacks  were  so  sudden  and  so  desultory,  that  his  enemies  were 
unable  either  effectually  to  guard  against  them,  or  to  conjecture  from  what 
quarter  tiiey  proceeded. 

Even  by  this  warfare,  petty  and  desultory  as  it  was,  Alfred  was  doing 
good  service  to  his  country.  For  with  the  spoil  which  he  thus  obtained 
he  was  enabled  to  subsist  and  from  time  to  time  to  increase  his  followers; 
and  while  his  attacks,  which  could  not  be  wholly  unknown  to  the  Saxon 
population,  gave  them  vague  hopes  that  armed  friends  were  not  wholly 
lost  to  them,  they  moderated  the  cruelty  and  imperiousness  of  the  Danes 
by  constantly  reminding  them  of  the  possibility  of  a  successful  and  general 
revolt  of  the  Saxons. 

For  upwards  of  a  year  Alfred  remained  in  this  secure  retreat,  in  which 
lime  he  had  gathered  together  a  considerable  number  of  followers;  and 
now  at  length  his  perseverancte  had  its  reward  in  an  opportunity  of  once 
more  meeting  his  foes  in  the  formal  array  of  battle. 

Hubba,  the  most  warlike  of  all  the  Danish  chiefs,  led  a  large  army  of 
his  countrymen  to  besiege  the  craslle  of  Kinwith,  in  Devonshire.  The 
earl  of  that  country,  a  brave  and  resolute  man,  deeming  death  in  the  battle 
field  far  preferable  to  starving  within  his  fortified  waUs,  or  life  preserved 
by  submission  to  the  hated  Danes,  collected  the  whole  of  his  garrison, 
and,  having  inspired  them  with  his  own  brave  determination,  made  a 
sudden  sally  upon  the  Danish  camp  in  the  darkness  of  night,  killed  Hubba, 
and  routed  the  Danish  force  with  iniinonsc  slaughter.  He  at  the  same 
time  captured  the  encthanted  Reafen,  the  woven  raven  which  adorned  the 
chief  standard  of  the  Danes,  and  the  loss  of  which  their  superstitious 
feelings  made  more  terrible  to  them  than  that  of  their  chief  and  their 
comrades  who  had  perished.  This  Reafen  had  been  woven  into  Hubba's 
standard  by  his  three  sisters,  who  had  accompanied  their  work  with  certain 
magical  formulie  which  the  Danes  firmly  believed  to  have  given  the  re- 
presented biid  the  power  of  preuicting  the  good  or  evil  success  of  any 
enterprise  by  the  motion  of  its  wings.     And,  considering  the  great  power 


138 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


# 


of  superstition  over  rude  and  untutored  minds,  it  is  very  probable  that 
the  loss  or  this  highly  valued  standard,  coinciding  with  not  only  the 
defeat,  but  also  the  death,  of  its  hitherto  victorious  owner,  struck  such  a 
general  fear  and  doubt  into  the  minds  of  the  Danes  as  very  greatly  tended 
to  dispose  them,  shortly  after,  to  make  peace  with  Alfred. 

As  soon  as  Alfred  heard  of  the  spirit  and  success  with  which  the  eari 
of  Devonshire  had  defended  himself  and  routed  the  most  dreaded  division 
of  the  Danish  army,  he  resolved  to  leave  his  obscure  retreat  and  once  more 
endeavour  to  arouse  the  Saxon  population  to  arms.  But  as  he  had  only 
too  great  and  painful  experience  of  the  extent  to  which  his  unfortunate 
people  had  been  depressed  in  spirit  by  their  long  continued  ill  fortune,  he 
determined  to  act  deliberately  and  cautiously,  so  as  to  avoid  an  appeal 
made  too  early  either  to  find  the  Saxons  sufficiently  recovered  to  make  a 
new  effort  for  their  liberty,  or  to  allow  of  their  bemg  prepared  to  make 
that  effort  successfully. 

Still  leaving  his  followers  to  conceal  themselves  in  the  retreat  of  which 
we  have  spoken,  he  disguised  himself  as  a  harper,  a  very  popular  charactei 
in  that  day,  and  one  which  his  great  skill  as  a  musician  enabled  him  suc- 
cessfully to  maintain.  In  this  character  he  was  able  to  travel  alike  among 
Danes  and  Saxons  without  suspicious  recognition;  and  his  music  at  once 
obtained  him  admission  to  every  rank  and  the  opportunity  of  conversing 
with  every  description  of  people.  Emboldened  by  finding  himself  unsus- 
pected by  even  his  own  subjects,  he  now  formed  the  bold  project  of  pen- 
etrating the  very  camp  of  the  enemy  to  note  their  forces  and  disposition. 
To  soldiers  in  camp  amusement  is  ever  welcome,  and  the  skilful  music 
of  Alfred  not  merely  gratified  the  common  soldiers  and  inferior  officers 
but  even  procured  him,  from  their  recommendations,  admittance  to  the 
tent  of  Gwthrum,  their  prince  and  leader.  Here  he  remained  long  enough 
to  discover  every  weak  point  of  the  enemy,  whether  as  to  the  position  ol 
their  camp,  which  was  situated  at  Eddington,  or  as  to  the  carelessness  ol 
discipline  into  which  their  utter  contempt  of  the  "Saxon  swine"  caused 
them  to  fall.  Having  made  all  necessary  observations  he  took  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  depart,  and  sent  messages  to  all  the  principal  Saxons  upon 
whom  he  could  depend,  requiring  them  to  meet  him  on  a  specified  day,  at 
Brixton,  in  the  forest  of  Selwood.  The  Saxons,  who  had  long  mourned 
their  king  as  dead,  and  were  groaning  beneath  the  brutal  tyrannies  of  the 
Danes,  joyfully  obeyed  his  summons,  and  at  the  appointed  time  he  found 
himself  surrounded  by  a  force  so  numerous  and  so  enthusiastic  as  to  give 
him  just  hopes  of  being  able  to  attack  the  Danes  with  success.  Knowing 
the  importance  of  not  allowing  this  enthusiasm  to  cool,  he  wasted  no  time 
in  useless  delay  or  vain  form,  but  led  them  at  once  to  Guthrum's  camp,  of 
which  his  recent  visit  made  him  acquainted  with  tne  most  practicable 
points.  Sunk  in  apathetic  indolence,  and  thinking  of  nothing  less  than 
(if  seeing  a  numerous  band  of  English  assembled  to  attack  them,  the 
Danes  were  so  panic-struck  and  surprised  that  ;hey  fought  with  none  of 
their  accustomed  vigour  or  obstinacy,  and  the  battle  was  speedily  conver- 
ted into  a  mere  rout.  Great  numbers  of  the  Danes  perished  in  this  affair; 
and  though  the  rest,  under  the  orders  of  Guthrum,  fortified  themselves  in 
a  camp  and  made  preparations  for  continuing  the  struggle,  they  were  so 
closely  hemmed  in  by  Alfred,  that  absolute  hunger  proved  too  strong  for 
their  resolution,  and  once  more  they  offered  to  treat  for  peace  with  the 
man  whose  mercy  they  had  so  often  abused,  and  whose  valour  and  ability 
they  had  long  since  imagined,  and  exultingly  believed,  to  be  buried  in  an 
obscure  and  premature  grave. 

The  enduring  and  persevering  inclination  to  clemency  which  he  con- 
stantly displayed  is  by  no  means  one  of  the  least  remarkable  and  admir- 
able traiis  in  the  character  of  Alfred.  Though  he  now  had  the  very  lives 
of  his  fell  and  malignant  foes  in  his  power,  and  though  they  were  so  con- 


a  (iff  TREASURY  OF  HIHTORY. 


tM 


in 
so 
for 
the 
ity 
an 


ves 
on* 


8CI0U8  of  their  helplessness  that  thev  offered  to  subniit  on  any  termi, 
however  humiliating,  he  gave  them  tneir  lives  without  attempting  to  im- 
pose  even  moderately  severe  terms.  Peace  for  his  subjects  was  still  the 
great  load-star  of  all  his  wishes  and  of  all  his  poliiv;  and  often  as  he  had 
been  deceived  by  the  Danes,  his  real  magnanimity  led  him  to  believe  thai 
even  their  faithlessness  could  not  always  bo  proof  against  mercy  and  in- 
dulgence ;  he  therefore  not  only  gave  them  their  lives,  but  also  full  per 
mission  to  settle  in  his  country,  upon  the  easy  condition  of  living  in  peace 
with  his  other  subjects,  and  holding  themselves  bound  to  aid  in  the  defence 
of  the  country  in  whose  safety  thoy  would  have  a  stake,  should  any  new 
invasion  render  their  assistance  necessary.  Delighted  to  obtain  terms  so 
much  more  favourable  than  they  had  any  right  to  hope  for,  Gulhrum  and 
his  followers  readily  agreed  to  this ;  but  Alfred's  mercy  had  no  taint  of 
weakness.  He,  with  his  usual  sagacity,  perceived  that  one  great  cause  of 
the  persevering  hostility  of  the  Danes  to  his  subjects  was  tiieir  difference 
of  religion.  Reflecting  that  such  a  cause  would  be  perpetually  liable  to 
cause  the  Danes  to  break  their  peaceable  intentions,  he  demanded  that 
Guthrum  and  his  people  should  give  evidence  of  their  sincerity  by  embra- 
cing the  Christian  religion.  This,  also,  was  consented  to  by  the  Danes, 
who  were  all  baptized,  Alfred  himself  becoming  the  godfather  of  Guth- 
rum, to  whom  he  gave  the  honourable  Christian  name  of  Athelstan.  The 
success  of  this  measure  fully  justified  the  sagacity  which  had  suggested 
it  to  Alfred.  The  Danes  settled  in  Stamford,  Lincoln,  Nottingham,  Lei- 
cester, and  Derby,  were  called  the  Five  Burghers,  and  they  lived  as  peace- 
ably as  any  other  of  Alfred's  subjects  and  gave  him  as  little  trouble.  For 
some  years  after  this  signal  triumph  of  Alfred's  prowess  and  policy,  Eng- 
land was  unmolested  by  foreign  invaders,  excepting  on  one  occasion 
when  a  numerous  fleet  of  Danes  sailed  up  the  Thames,  beyond  London. 
They  committed  considerable  havoc  on  their  route,  but  on  arriving  at  Ful- 
ham  they  found  the  country  so  well  prepared  by  Alfred  to  resist  them, 
that  they  made  a  panic  retreat  to  their  ships,  and  departed  with  such  spoil 
as  in  their  haste  they  were  able  to  secure. 

Freed  from  the  warlike  bustle  in  which  so  large  a  portion  of  his  life  had 
been  spent,  Alfred  now  devoted  himself  to  the  task  of  regulating  tiie  civil 
affairs  of  the  kingdom.  He  committed  the  former  kingdom  of  Mercia  to 
the  government  of  his  brother-in-law,  Ethelbert,  with  the  rank  and  title 
of  earl  or  duke ;  and  in  order  to  render  the  incorporation  of  the  Danes 
with  the  Saxons  the  more  complete,  he  put  them  upon  the  same  legal 
footing  in  every  respect.  In  each  division  of  the  kingdom  he  established 
a  militia  force,  and  made  arrangements  for  its  concentration  upon  any 
given  point  in  the  event  of  a  new  invasion.  He  also  repaired  the  va- 
rious towns  that  had  suffered  in  the  long  disorders  of  the  kingdom,  and 
erected  fortresses  in  commanding  situations,  to  serve  both  as  depots  for 
armed  men,  and  as  rallying  points  for  the  militia  and  levy,  en  masse,  of 
the  country  around,  in  case  of  need.  But  though  the  admirable  military 
dispositions  thus  made  by  Alfred  made  it  certain  that  any  invaders  would 
find  themselves  hotly  opposed  in  whatever  quarter  they  might  make  their 
attack,  Alfred  was  more  anxious  to  have  the  internal  peace  of  the  country 
wholly  unbroken,  than  to  be  obliged,  however  triumphantly  and  surely, 
to  chastise  the  disturbers  of  it;  he  therefore  now  turned  his  attention  to 
the  organization  of  such  a  naval  force  as  should  be  sufficient  to  keep  the 
piratical  enemy  from  landing  upon  his  shores.  He  greatly  increased  the 
number  and  strength  of  his  shipping,  and  practised  a  large  portion  of  his 
people  in  naval  tactics,  to  which,  considering  their  insular  situation,  the 
kings  and  people  of  England  had  hitherto  been  strangely  indifferent.  Tne 
good  effects  of  this  wise  precauticm  were  soon  manifest ;  squadrons  of 
his  armed  vessels  lay  at  so  many  and  at  such  well-chosen  positions,  that 
the  Danes,  though  they  often  came  in  great  numbers,  were  either  wholly 
I.— 9 


ISO 


THB  TREASURY  01"  HIBTORT. 


ItreTented  from  landing,  or  intercepted  when  retiring  from  before  the  land- 
brce«,  and  deprived  of  their  ill-gotten  booty,  and  their  ships  either  cap- 
tured or  sunk.  In  this  manner  Alfred  at  length  got  together  a  hundred 
and  twenty  vessels,  a  very  powerful  fleet  for  that  time,  and  as  his  own 
subjects  were  nt  the  outset  but  indifferent  sailors,  he  supplied  that  defect 
by  sparingly  distributing  among  them  skilful  foreign  seamen,  from  whom 
they  soon  learned  all  tliut  was  known  of  naval  tactics  in  that  rude  age. 

For  some  years  Alfred  reaped  the  rewatd  of  his  admirable  policy  and 
untiring  industry  in  the  unbroken  tranquillity  of  the  country,  which  gave 
his  subjects  the  opportunity  of  advancing  in  all  the  useful  arts,  and  of 
gradually  repairing  those  evils  which  the  Inng-continued  internal  wars 
had  done  to  both  their  trade  and  their  agriculture.  But  a  new  trial  was 
still  in  store  for  both  Alfred  and  his  subjects. 

A.D.  893.  Hastings,  a  Danish  chieftain,  who  some  years  before  had  made 
a  short  predatory  incursion  into  England,  but  who  recently  had  confined 
his  ravages  to  France,  finding  that  he  had  reduced  that  country,  so  far  as 
he  could  get  access  to  it,  to  a  condition  which  rendered  it  unproductive  of 
farther  booty,  suddenly  appeared  this  year  off  the  coast  of  Kent,  with  an 
immense  horde  of  his  pirates,  in  upwards  of  three  hundred  vessels.  Dis- 
embarking the  main  body  in  the  Rothcr,  and  leaving  it  to  guard  the  fort 
of  Apuldore,  which  he  surprised  and  seized,  he,  with  a  detachment  of  nearly 
a  hundred  vessels,  sailed  up  the  Thames  as  far  as  Milton,  where  he  estab- 
lished his  head-quarters,  whence  he  sent  out  his  mauradiiig  parties  in  every 
direction.  As  soon  as  tidings  of  this  new  incursion  reached  Alfred,  that 
gallant  monarch  concentrated  an  immense  force  from  the  armed  militia 
in  various  parts  of  the  country,  and  marched  against  the  enemy.  Setting 
down  before  Milton  and  Apuldore,  Alfred,  by  his  superiority  of  force,  com- 
pletely hemmed  in  the  main  bodies  of  the  pirates,  and  their  detached  par- 
ties were  encountered  as  they  returned  with  their  booty,  and  cut  off  to  a 
man.  Finding  that,  so  far  from  having  any  prospect  of  enriching  them- 
selves, they  were,  in  fact,  compelled  to  live  in  England  upon  the  plunder 
that  they  had  seized  in  France,  the  pirate  garrison  of  Apuldore  made  a 
sudden  sally  with  the  design  of  crossing  the  Thames  into  Essex.  But  the 
vigilant  eye  of  Alfred  was  too  constantly  upon  them  to  allow  either  secrecy 
or  suddenness  to  give  them  success  in  this  attempt.  He  arrested  their 
march  at  Farnham,  utterly  routed  them,  and  spoiled  them  of  ^W  their  prop- 
erty, including  numbers  of'^valuable  horses.  The  slaughter  w  uh  very  great, 
and  those  Danes  who  were  so  fortunate  as  to  survive  the  battle,  n?ade  their 
way  in  panic  haste  to  their  piratical  vessels,  and  sailed  over  to  Essex, 
where  they  entrenched  themselves  at  Mersey ;  Hastings,  with  the  division 
under  his  command,  at  the  same  time  going  also  into  the  county  of  Essex 
and  entrenching  himself  at  Canvey. 

Guthrum,  who  from  the  time  of  his  baptism  had  been  constantly  faith- 
ful to  the  engagement  into  which  he  had  entered  with  Alfred,  was  now 
dead,  as  also  was  Guthred,  another  Dane  of  rank,  who  was  very  faithful 
to  Alfred,  by  whom  he  had  been  made  governor  of  Northumberland.  No 
longer  restrained  by  the  example  and  authority  of  those  two  eminent 
chiefs,  the  East  Anglian  and  Northumbrian  Danes  now  suddenly  exhibited 
their  old  propensity  to  strife  and  rapine,  got  together  a  fleet  of  nearly  two 
hundred  and  fifty  vessels,  and  made  their  appearance  in  hostile  array  be- 
fore Exeter.  Leaving  a  sufllcient  force  under  competent  command  to 
make  head  against  the  Danes  in  Essex,  Alfred  immediately  hastened  to 
Exeter,  and  fell  so  suddenly  upon  them,  that  with  little  loss  on  his  side, 
they  were  driven,  in  complete  disorder  and  with  immense  loss,  to  their 
fleet.  They  made  attempts  to  land  in  other  parts  of  the  country ;  but  the 
preparations  which  Alfred  had  everywhere  made  of  militia  and  armed 
freemen,  whom  the  recent  alarms  had  kept  more  than  usually  on  the  alert, 


THB  TRKASUBY  Or  HISTORY.  ^ 

eauked  the  pirates  to  be  so  warmly  received,  that  they  at  length  •ui-  ) 
from  the  island  altogether,  in  despair  of  making  any  further  booty. 

Tho  Danes  in  Essex,  united  under  the  command  of  the  formidable  Has- 
tings, did  immense  mischief  in  that  county.  But  the  furce  left  behind  by 
Al^ed,  increased  by  a  large  number  of  Londoners,  marchrd  to  Uraniflete, 
forced  the  pirates*  entrenchments,  put  the  greater  number  of  the  garrison 
to  the  sword,  and  captured  the  wife  and  children  of  the  pintte  chief.  This 
capture  was  the  most  importantly  useful  result  of  this  well-conducted  en- 
terprise. Alfred  had  now  in  his  hands  hostages  through  whom  he  cotild 
command  any  terms ;  but  so  generous  was  his  nature,  that  he  restored  the 
women  and  children  to  Ha8tiii(;a,  upon  thn  sole  and  easy  condition  that  he 
should  leave  the  kingdom  immediately,  under  h  solemn  engagement  to  re- 
turn to  it  no  more  as  a  foeman. 

But  though  the  worst  band  of  the  Danes  was  thus  forced  to  depart  the 
kingdom,  the  plague  of  the  Danes  was  by  no  means  wholly  at  an  end. 
There  were  very  numerous  scattered  hordes  of  them,  who  neither  owned 
the  leadership  of  Hastings,  nor  were  willing  to  leave  the  country  empty- 
handed.  These  united  into  one  large  force,  and  fortified  themselves  at 
Shoburv,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Thames,  whence  they  marched  into  Ulou- 
ceslershire,  and  being  reinforced  by  a  numerous  body  of  Welchmen,  for- 
tified themselves  very  strongly  at  Boddington.  Having  now  only  this 
body  to  deal  with,  Alfred  gathered  together  the  whole  force  he  could  com- 
mand, and  drawing  lines  of  circumvallition  around  the  pirates,  deliberately 
sat  down  with  the  determination  of  starving  them  into  submission.  They 
held  out  for  some  time,  slaying  their  horses  to  subsist  upon  ;  but  at  length 
even  this  miserable  resource  failing  them,  they  sallied  out  in  utter  des- 
peration. The  most  considerable  portion  of  them  fell  in  the  fierce  contest 
that  ensued,  but  a  still  formidable  body  escaped,  and,  ravaging  the  country 
as  they  passed  along,  were  pursued  by  Alfred  to  Watford,  in  Hertford- 
shire. Here  another  severe  action  ensued,  and  the  Danes  were  again 
defeated  with  great  loss.  The  remnant  found  shelter  on  board  the  fleet 
of  Sigefort,  a  Northumbrian  Dane,  who  possessed  ships  of  a  construction 
very  superior  to  those  of  the  generality  of  his  countrymen.  The  king  pur- 
sued this  fleet  to  the  coast  of  Hampshire,  slew  a  great  number  of  the  pi- 
rates, captured  twenty  of  their  ships,  and — even  his  enduring  mercy  being 
now  wearied — hanged,  at  Winchester,  the  whole  of  his  prisoners. 

The  efScient  and  organized  resistance  which  had  of  late  been  experi  • 
enccd  by  the  pirates,  and  the  plain  indications  given  by  the  Winchester 
executions  that  the  king  was  determined  to  show  no  more  lenity  to  pirates, 
but  to  consign  them  to  an  ignominious  death,  as  common  disturbers  and 
enemies  of  the  whole  human  race,  fairly  struck  terror  even  into  the  hith- 
erto incorrigible  Danes.  Those  of  Northumberland  and  East  Anglia, 
against  whom  Alfred  now  marched,  deprecated  his  resentment  by  the 
humblest  submission,  and  the  most  solemn  assurances  of  their  future 
peaceable  behaviour,  and  their  example  was  imitated  by  the  Welch. 

The  same  admirable  arrangements  which  had  enabled  him  to  free  his 
country  from  the  Danes,  were  now  of  infinite  service  to  Alfred  in  restor- 
ing and  enforcing  order  among  his  own  subjects.  It  was  almost  inevita- 
ble that  great  disorders  should  prevail  among  a  people  who  so  frequently, 
and  during  so  many  years,  had  been  subject  to  all  the  horrors  and  tumults 
in  ident  to  a  country  which  is  so  unhappy  as  to  be  the  theatre  of  war.  In 
addition  to  making  very  extensive  and  wise  provisions  for  the  true  and 
efl!icient  administration  of  Justice  in  the  superior  courts,  and  framing  a 
code  for  their  guidance  so  excellent  that  its  substance  and  spirit  subsist 
to  this  day  in  the  common  law  of  England,  he  most  effectually  provided 
for  the  repression  of  petty  offences,  as  well  as  more  serious  ones,  whether 
against  persons  or  property,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  did  so,  like  the 
manner  in  which  he,  as  it  were,  made  his  whole  kingdom  a  series  of  gar- 


THE  TRRASURY  OF  IIIflrOR^. 

rinons  to  roslraiti  the  Dano^,  ahowi  that  hf,  with  admirahlo  gor.iiiH,  p»r. 
oeived  the  immtMisi!  itnpurtHiire  of  ati  atlciilion  lo  details,  uiid  the  c^^e 
with  which  many  jfradualed  efforts  undarrainjpriipnts  will  proiluce  a  result 
which  would  be  in  vaiii  aimed  at  by  any  one  effort  however  vast. 

Of  what  may  be  called  the  national  police  established  by  Alfred,  we  lake 
the  following  brief  and  condensed,  but  extremely  lucid  and  grapjiic,  ac- 
count from  Flume:  '•The  Knichsh,"  says  Hume,  "  reduccil  to  the  most 
extreme  indigence  by  the  (loiiliiiucd  depredations  of  the  Danes,  had  shaken 
off  all  bands  of  Bovernmeiit,  and  those  who  had  been  nlundered  to-day, 
betook  themselves  on  the  morrow  to  the  like  disorderly  life,  and,  from 
despair,  joined  the  robbers  in  pillaging  and  ruining  their  fellow-citizens. 
These  vere  the  evils  for  which  it  was  necessary  that  the  vigilance  and 
activitv  of  Alfred  should  provide  a  remedy. 

••Ttiat  ho  might  render  ;he  execution  of  Justice  strict  and  rceular,  ho  di 
vided  all  England  into  counties ;  these  counties  he  subdivided  into  hun- 
dreds, and  the  hundreds  again  into  tithings.     Every  householder  was 
answornble  for  the  behaviour  of  his  family  and  his  slaves,  and  even  of  his 

Siiests  if  they  lived  above  three  days  in  his  house.  Ten  neighbouring 
ouseholders  were  formed  into  one  corporation,  who,  under  the  name  or 
a  tithing,  decennary,  or  fribourg,  were  answerable  for  each  other's  con- 
duct, and  over  whom  one  man,  called  a  tithing-man,  headbourg,  or  bond- 
holder, was  appointed  to  preside.  Every  man  was  punished  ns  an  outlaw 
who  did  not  register  himself  in  some  tithing,  and  no  man  could  change  hi? 
habitation  without  u  warrant  or  certificate  from  the  bondholder  of  the  tith- 
ing to  which  he  formerly  belonged. 

"  When  any  person,  in  any  tithing  or  decennary,  was  guilty  of  a  crime, 
the  bondholder  was  summoned  to  answer  for  hin:.  and  if  he  were  not  wil- 
ling to  be  surety  for  his  appearance  and  his  clearing  himself,  the  criminal 
was  committed  to  prison,  and  there  detained  till  his  trial.  If  he  fled, 
either  before  or  after  finding  surety,  the  bondholder  and  decennary  be 
came  liable  to  inquiry,  and  were  exposed  to  the  penalties  of  the  law. 
Thirty-one  days  were  allowed  them  for  producing  the  criminal,  and  if 
the  time  elapsed  without  their  being  able  to  find  him,  the  bondholder,  witli 
two  other  members  of  the  decennary,  was  obliged  to  appear,  and,  to- 
gether with  three  chief  members  of  the  three  neighbouring  decennaries, 
making  twelve  in  all,  to  swear  that  his  decennary  was  free  from  all  priv- 
ity, both  of  the  crime  committed,  and  of  the  escape  of  the  criminal.  If 
the  bondholder  could  not  find  such  a  number  to  answer  for  their  inno- 
cence, the  decennary  was  compelled  by  fine  to  make  satisfaction  to  the 
king,  according  lo  the  degree  of  the  offence.  By  this  institution  every 
man  was  obliged  by  his  own  interest  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  over  the 
conduct  of  his  neighbour,  and  was  in  a  manner  surety  for  the  bchpviour 
of  those  who  were  placed  under  the  division  to  which  he  belonged ;  'vhence 
these  decennaries  received  the  name  of  frank-pledges. 

"Such  a  regular  distribution  of  the  people,  with  such  a  strict  confine- 
ment in  their  habitation,  may  not  be  necessary  in  times  when  men  are 
more  inured  to  obedience  and  justice,  and  it  might  perhaps  be  regarded  as 
destructive  of  liberty  and  commerce  in  n  polished  state ;  but  it  was  well 
calculated  to  reduce  that  fierce  and  licentious  people  under  the  salutary 
restraint  of  law  and  government.  But  Alfred  took  care  to  temper  these 
rigours  by  other  institutions  more  favoumble  to  the  freedom  of  the  citi- 
zens, and  nothing  could  be  more  popular  or  liberal  than  his  plan  for  the 
administration  of  justice.  The  bondholder  summoned  together  his  whole 
decennary  to  assist  him  in  deciding  any  lesser  diflference  which  occurred 
among  the  members  of  this  small  community.  In  affairs  of  greater  mo 
ment,  in  appeals  from  the  decennary,  or  in  controversies  arising  between 
members  of  different  decennaries,  the  cause  was  brought  before  the  hun 
dred,  which  consisted  of  ten  decennaries,  or  a  hundred  families  of  free- 


THR  TRBARUllY  Ot  II.8TORY. 


133 


Men,  Hiul  which  wan  regularly  assninltlud  onuc  in  four  weeks  for  the  de- 
ciding of  oiusea.  Their  iiiothod  uf  dreiaioit  (leflorv«!i  to  be  iiolftd,  an 
beiiiK  ihu  ori|j:iri  o(  juru t— an  niniitutioii  iidinirahlo  in  itNrir,  and  the  iM'tt 
calculated  fur  tho  prt-ncrvatUMi  of  liborty  and  tliu  adiniintttrHtion  of  Jua. 
tici!  that  I'ver  was  dKvisicd  by  man.  Twtdvn  frt'eholdcrM  wurr  choitvii, 
who,  huvnig  Nwurn,  to({clhcr  with  Itic  huiidrtidcr,  iir  prcaiding  mai^istriito 
of  ibiit  division,  to  adminislfr  iinparliul  jiiittiiM!,  proiteeded  to  tho  exaiiiiiiu- 
tiun  of  that  cause  which  was  suhinittcd  to  their  jurisdiction.  And  beside 
these  inoiiihly  ineclingN  of  tlus  hundred,  there  was  an  unnual  mcetinir  up- 
pointed  for  a  iiiorr  i^iMieral  inspi'(;liun  of  iho  police  of  the  district,  for  the 
inquiry  into  crinuM,  tiie  correction  of  uhnxcH  in  inagisiralcH,  and  tho 
obliging  of  every  pi'i.-.on  to  sliow  the  decennary  in  which  he  was  regis- 
tered. The  people,  in  imitation  of  their  Oerinaii  ancestors,  asscnililed 
there  in  arms — wheiieo  a  hundred  was  soinetinies  called  a  wapentake, 
and  its  courts  served  both  for  the  support  of  military  discipline,  and  fur 
the  administration  of  civil  justice. 

"  The  next  superior  court  to  that  of  the  hundred,  was  the  county  court, 
which  met  twice  a  year,  after  Michaelmas  and  Kaster,  and  consisted  of 
the  freeholders  of  the  county,  who  possessed  an  equal  vote  in  the  deci- 
sion of  causes.  The  bishop  presided  in  this  court,  together  with  the  al- 
derman, and  the  proper  object  of  the  court  was  the  receiving  of  appeals 
from  tho  hundreds  and  decennaries,  and  the  deciding  of  such  controver- 
sies as  arose  between  men  of  different  hundreds.  Formerly  the  alder- 
man possessed  both  the  military  and  the  civil  authority ;  but  Alfred,  sen- 
sible that  this  conjunction  of  powers  rendered  the  nobility  dangerously 
independent,  appointed  also  a  shcrifT  to  each  county,  who  enjoyed  a  co- 
ordinate authority  with  the  former  in  the  judicial  function.  His  ofHce 
also  empowered  him  to  guard  the  rights  of  the  crown  in  tho  county,  and 
to  levy  tho  Ancs  imposed,  which  in  that  age  formed  no  contemptible  p^rt 
of  tho  public  revenue. 

"  There  lay  an  appeal,  in  default  of  justice,  from  all  tVciia  courts  to  the 
king  himself  in  council ;  and  as  the  people,  sensible  of  the  equity  and 
great  talents  of  Alfred,  placed  their  chief  confidence  in  him,  he  was  soon 
overwhelmed  with  appeals  from  ctH  parts  of  England.  He  was  indefati- 
gable in  the  dispatch  of  these  causes,  but  finding  that  his  time  must  be 
entirely  engrossed  by  this  branch  of  duty,  ho  resolved  to  obviate  the  in- 
convenience by  correcting  the  ignorance  or  the  corrnptioi:  of  the  inferior 
magistrates,  from  which  it  arose.  He  took  care  to  have  all  his  nobility 
instructed  in  letters  and  the  law:  he  chose  the  earls  and  sheriffs  from 
among  the  men  most  celebrated  for  probity  and  knowledge ;  he  punished 
severely  all  malversation  in  oflice,  and  he  removed  all  the  earls  whom  he 
found  unequal  to  their  trust,  allowing  some  of  the  more  elderly  to  serve 
by  deputy,  till  their  death  should  make  room  for  more  worthy  successors." 

Without  any  qualification  or  allowance  for  the  age  and  circumstances 
in  which  he  lived,  the  military,  and,  even  more,  the  civil  talents  of  Al- 
fred, and  their  noble  and  consistent  ievotion  to  the  magnificent  task  of 
making  a  great  and  civilized  nation  out  of  a  people  disunited,  rude,  igno- 
rant, fierce,  and  disorderly,  would  justly  entitle  him  to  the  praise  of  being 
among  tho  greatest  and  best  monarchs  that  have  ever  existed.  But  when 
we  reflect  that  he  had  to  contend  against  a  late,  an  imperfect,  and  irreg- 
ular educatiot: ;  that  he,  who,  in  a  comparatively  short  life,  so  largely 
figured  both  as  warrior  and  sage,  was  twelve  years  old  ere  he  began  to 
learn  even  the  very  elements  of  literature,  and  that,  during  the  latter 
years  of  his  glorious  life,  he  laboured  under  frequent  and  painful  fits  of 
illness  almost  amounting  to  bodily  disability,  it  would  not  be  an  easy  task 
to  exaggerate  his  merits.  Good  as  well  as  great,  a  patient  and  tliought- 
ful  student,  as  well  as  a  mighty  ciiieftain  in  the  field  and  a  sage  statesman 
at  the   council-board,  he  probably  approached  as  nearly   to  perfection 


■'\i;i^rc  ■ 


134 


THE  TRBASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


both  as  man  and  monarch,  as  is  possible  for  one  of  our  fallible  and  Iraii 
race.  To  the  English  of  his  own  age  he  gave  benefits,  some  of  which 
have  descended  even  to  our  own  generation ;  his  renown  shines  forth  in 
the  page  of  history  like  some  bright  particular  star,  a  beacon  of  greatness 
to  things  and  of  goodness  to  private  men ;  and  sad  will  that  day  be  for 
England,  and  degraded  will  be  the  English  character,  when  the  general 
heart  shall  fail  to  throb  with  a  lively,  a  grateful,  and  a  gladly  proud  emo- 
tion at  the  mention  of  him  whom  their  sturdy  fathers  heartily  and  justly 
hailed  by  the  proud  name  of  ALraED  the  Great. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

UISTORT  or  THE  ANOLO-SAXONS,  FROM  THE    DEATH  OF  ALFRED  THE  GREAT  TU 
THE  REION  UF  EDWARD  THE  MARTYR. 

Alfred  the  Great,  who  died  in  the  year  901,  had  three  sons  and  three 
daughters  by  his  wife  Ethelswitha,  the  daughter  of  an  earl  of  Mercia. 
His  eldest  son,  Edmund,  died  before  him,  and  he  was  succeeded  by  his 
second  son,  Edward,  who,  being  the  first  English  king  of  that  name,  was 
surnamed  The  Elder. 

Though  Edward  was  scarcely,  if  at  all,  inferior  to  his  truly  great  father 
in  point  of  military  talents,  his  reign  was,  upon  the  whole,  a  turbulent 
one,  and  one  that  by  no  means  favoured  the  growth  in  the  kingdom  oi 
that  civilized  prosperity,  of  which  Alfred  had  laid  the  foundations  both 
deep  and  broad.  But  the  fault  was  not  with  Edward ;  he  had  to  contend 
agamst  many  very  great  difficulties,  and  he  contended  against  them  with 
both  courage  and  prudence.  He  had  scarcely  paid  the  last  sad  offices  to 
his  royal  father  when  his  title  to  the  throne  was  disputed  by  his  cousm 
Ethelwold,  son  of  Ethelbert,  the  elder  brother  of  Alfred.  Had  the  hered> 
itary  and  lineal  descent  of  the  crown  been  as  yet  strictly  settled  with  a 
regard  to  primogeniture,  the  claim  of  Ethelwold  would  have,  undoubted- 
ly, been  a  just  one.  But  such  was  far  from  being  the  case  ;  many  cir- 
cumstances, the  character,  or  even  the  infancy  of  the  actual  heir  in  the 
order  of  primogeniture,  very  often  inducing  the  magnates  and  people,  as 
in  the  case  of  Alfred  himself,  to  pass  over  him  who  in  this  point  of  view 
was  the  rightful  heir,  in  favour  of  one  better  qualified,  and  giving  higher 
promise  of  safety  and  prosperity  to  the  nation. 

Ethelwold  had  a  considerable  number  of  partizans,  by  whose  aid  he 
collected  a  large  and  imposing  force,  und  fortified  himself  at  Winiborne, 
in  Dorsetshire,  with  the  avowed  determination  of  referring  his  claim  to 
the  decision  of  war.  But  the  military  condition  in  which  Alfred  had  left 
the  kingdom  now  rendered  his  son  good  service.  At  the  first  intimation 
that  he  received  of  his  cousin's  opposition,  he  on  the  instant  collected  a 
niimeruus  and  well-appointed  army  and  marched  towards  him,  deter- 
mined not  to  have  the  internal  peace  of  the  whole  kingdom  disturbed  by 
a  series  of  petty  struggles,  but  to  hazard  life  and  crown  upon  the  decision 
of  a  single  great  battle.  As  the  king  approached,  however,  the  informa- 
tion of  his  overwhelming  force  that  was  conveyed  to  Ethelwold  so  much 
alarmed  him,  that  he  suddenly  broke  up  his  army  and  made  a  hasty  re- 
treat to  Normandy,  Here  he  remained  niactive  for  some  time ;  but  just 
as  all  observers  of  his  conduct  imagined  that  he  had  finally  abandoned 
his  pretensions,  he  passed  over  into  Northumberland,  where  he  was  well 
received  by  the  Danes  of  that  district,  who  were  glad  of  any  pretence, 
however  slight,  for  disavowing  their  allegiance  to  the  actual  king  of  Eng- 
land. The  five  burghers,  who  had  so  long  been  in  a  state  of  rarely 
broken  tranqudlity,  also  joined  Ethelwold,  and  the  country  had  once  more 
the  prospect  of  endless  and  ruinous  internal  warfare.    Ethelwold  led  hit 


THK  TKBASORY  OF  HISTOaV. 


136 


ireebooters  into  Wiltshire,  Gloucestershire,  and  Oxfordshire,  and  made 
their  escape  good,  with  an  immense  booty,  ere  the  royal  forces  could 
come  up  with  them.  But  the  kini;  followed  his  foes  into  East  Anglia, 
and  fearfully  retaliated  upon  that  district  the  injuries  that  had  been  in- 
flicted upon  his  peaceable  subjects.  When,  laden  with  spoil,  he  gave  the 
order  to  retire,  a  part  of  his  army^  chiefly  Kentish  men,  disciieyed  him. 
They  were,  consequently,  left  behind  in  the  enemy's  country,  and,  while 
busily  engaged  in  adding  to  their  already  rich  booty,  were  suddenly  and 
furiously  set  upon  by  the  Danes.  The  battle  was  obstinate  on  both  sides. 
In  the  end  the  Danes  were  victorious ;  but  though  they  remained  masters 
of  the  field  of  battle,  they  lost  their  bravest  leaders,  and  among  them  the 
original  promoter  of  the  war,  Ethel  wold  himself.  The  East  Anglians 
were  now  glad  to  accept  the  terms  of  peace  offered  to  them  by  the  king ; 
and  he,  having  nothing  to  fear  from  them,  turned  his  whole  attention  to 
subduing  the  Danes  of  Northumberland.  He  accordingly  fitted  out  a 
fleet,  under  the  impression  that  by  carrying  the  war  to  their  own  coast  he 
would  infallibly  compel  them  to  refrain  from  plundering  his  people,  by 
the  necessity  they  would  experience  of  staying  at  home  to  defend  their 
own  properly.  But  the  consequence  of  this  manoeuvre  was  directly 
contrary  to  what  the  king  had,  and  not  illogically  either,  supposed  it  would 
be.  They  judged  that  the  king's  fleet  carried  the  main  armed  strength  of 
England ;  and,  trusting  the  safety  of  their  own  property  to  concealment 
and  the  chapter  of  accidents,  they  no  sooner  saw  the  royal  fleet  appear 
off  their  coast  than  they  made  a  land  incursion  upon  the  English.  But 
they,  too,  had  reasoned  with  more  seeming  than  real  correctness. 

Edward  was  fully  prepared  to  meet  them  by  land  as  well  as  by  sea;  and 
he  attacked  them  at  Tetenhall,in  Staffordshire,  put  a  great  number  of  them 
to  the  sword,  recovered  the  whole  of  the  spoils  they  had  taken  from  his 
subjects,  and  drove  all  those  of  them  who  escaped  death  or  captivity,  in  a 
Moat  desolate  and  poverty-stricken  state,  into  their  Oivn  country. 

During  the  whole  remainder  of  Edward's  reign  he  was  engaged  with 
one  party  or  another  of  the  English  Danes.  But  he  chastised  each  party 
severely  in  its  turn;  and,  by  constant  care  and  unsparing  liberality,  he 
fortified  Chester,  Warwick,  Colchester,  and  many  other  cities  so  strongly 
as  to  leave  them  little  to  fear  from  any  sudden  incursion  of  their  perse- 
vering and  rancorous  enemies.  In  the  end  he  vanquished  the  Northum- 
brians, the  East  Anglians,  the  British  tribes  of  Wales  nearest  to  his  fron- 
tiers, and  compelled  the  Scots,  who  had  recently  been  very  troublesome, 
to  submit  to  him.  He  was  much  aided  in  his  various  projects  by  his  sister 
Ethelfleda,  widow  of  the  Mercian  earl  Etheibert,  who  was  a  woman  of 
masculine  genius  as  well  as  masculine  habits  and  feelings. 

Upon  the  whole,  though  the  reign  of  Edward  the  Elder  was  a  victo 
rious,  it  can  scarcely  be  called  a  fortunate  one ;  for  in  it  many  of  those 
Danes  who  had  long  lived  in  habits  of  peace  returned  to  their  old  taste 
for  plundering,  and  so  many  battles  fought  in  his  own  country  could  not, 
even  when  he  was  the  most  signally  victorious,  be  otherwise  than  injuri" 
ous  to  both  the  prosperity  and  the  morals  of  his  people. 

Edward  died  in  925.  We  have  already  remarked  upon  the  unsettled 
state  of  the  law  of  succession  to  the  throne  in  that  age.  Another  instance 
of  it  occurred  now.  Edward  left  legitimate  children,  but  they  were  of 
years  far  too  tender  to  admit  of  their  assuming  the  reins  of  government 
under  any  circumstances,  and  especially  so  in  the  then  imminent  danger 
of  England  being  again  convulsed  by  the  Danes.  The  chief  people  of  the 
nation  therefore  passed  those  young  children  by  and  gave  the  throne  to 
A.thelstan,  an  illegitimate  son  of  the  deceased  monarch.  But  though  Ath 
elstan  had  the  general  suffrages  of  the  great  men,  there  were  some  excep- 
tions. Among  those  were  Alfred,  a  Saxon  nobleman  of  great  influence 
and  popularity,  who  endeavoured  to  organize  an  armed  opposition  to  thn 


136 


THB  TEEA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


n»w  king.    But  the  king's  suspicion  fell  upon  this  nobleman  before  his 
conspiracy  was  ripe  for  execution,  and  he  was  seized  and  charged  with 
the  offence,  or  rather  the  intent  of  offending.     He  by  some  means  ascer- 
tained, or  he  boldly  presumed,  that  the  king,  however  vehemently  he 
might  suspect  him,  had  in  reality  no  tangible  evidence,  and  he  offered  to 
clear  himself  of  the  imputed  crime  by  an  oath  taken  before  the  pope- 
Such  was  the  awful  respect  in  which  the  pope  was  then  held,  and  such 
was  his  sanctity  supposed  to  be,  that  it  was  finally  and  universally  be- 
lieved that  the  fate  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira  would  inevitably  befal  any 
one  who  should  dare  to  make  oath  falsely  in  his  presence.    This  belief, 
absurd  as  it  was,  had  singular  corroboration  given  to  it  by  the  fate  of  this 
Alfred.    He  was  permitted  to  purge  his  guilt  in  the  way  proposed  by  him- 
self, and  he  took  the  required  oath  in  the  presence  of  Pope  John,  but  had 
scarcely  pronounced  the  words  dictated  to  him  ere  he  fell  into  convul- 
sions, in  which  he  continued  till  his  death,  which  occurred  in  three  days 
This  story  has  been  spoken  of  as  being  a  pure  monkish  invention.     We 
think  differently.     The  monks  did  frequently  exaggerate  and  even  invent, 
but  that  is  no  reason  for  assuming  their  guiltiness  of  like  conduct  where 
there  is  no  proof  against  them,  and  where,  without  attaching  the  siightesjt 
consequence  to  the  alleged  sanctity  of  the  pope's  person,  we  can  explain 
the  actual  occurrence  of  the  event  by  a  simple  physical  cause.    And  what 
more  easy  than  to  do  so  in  this  case?    Superstition  was  in  those  days  by 
no  means  confined  to  the  poor  and  lowly.     Ignorance — in  the  scholastic 
sense  of  that  word — was  the  birthright  of  the  powerful  baron  as  well  as 
of  the  trampled  and  despised  churl,  long  after  the  time  of  Athelstan ;  and 
many  a  noble  who  defied  all  human  laws,  and  looked  scornfully  upon  all 
merely  physical  danger,  would  blanch  and  cower  at  tales  that  the  simplest 
village  lass  of  a  more  enlightened  day  would  smile  at.    There  is  nothing 
upon  record  to  lead  us  to  believe  that  this  Alfred  was  more  sceptical  in 
such  matters  than  tUe  generality  of  nobles.     Urged  by  a  desire  of  safety 
for  life  and  possessions,  and  perhaps  entertaining  a  hope  of  escape  from 
the  consequences  alleged  to  await  perjury  such  as  he  proposed  to  commit, 
he  might  be  buoyed  up  sufficiently  to  commit  the  perjury,  and  yet,  at  the 
very  moment  of  committing  it,  terror,  compounded  of  the  consciousness 
of  a  tremendous  guilt,   and  of  the    tremendous  consequences   which 
from  infancy  he  had  heard  predicated  of  such  guilt,  would  surely  be  not 
unlikely  to  affect  his  brain.    Men  have  maddened  on  the  instant  at  be- 
holding some  horrible  sight,  others  have  grown  grey  in  a  single  night  of 
intense  and  harrowing  mental  agony ;  why,  then,  should  we  suppose  it 
impossible  that  the  awful  feelings  incident  to  such  a  situation  as  that  of 
Alfred  should  produce  sudden  epilepsy  and  subsequent  death  1 

The  result  was  as  fortunate  for  Athelstan  as  it  was  disastrous  to  Alfred. 
The  king  was  freed  from  the  opposition  of  a  noble  who  might  have  been 
very  troublesome  to  him,  and  the  manner  of  that  noble's  death  was  to  all 
ranks  of  men  a  most  convincing  proof  not  only  that  Alfred  had  been 
doubly  guilty,  first  of  conspiracy  and  then  of  perjury,  but  also  that  the 
king  was  the  rightful  possessor  of  the  crown,  and  that  to  dispute  his  right 
was  to  incur  all  Alfred's  danger  and  much  of  Alfred's  guilt.  The  king 
took  care  to  strengthen  and  confirm  this  feeling  by  confiscating  the  whole 
of  Alfred's  property,  as  though  his  death,  under  the  circumstances,  was 
tantamount  to  a  judicial  sentence ;  and,  as  he  prudently  bestowed  this 
large  property  upon  the  already  wealthy  monastery  of  Malmsbury,  he 
made  the  fall  of  a  single  powerful  enemy  the  immediate  means  of  secur- 
ing the  friendship  of  an  infinitely  more  powerful  corporation. 

Having  thus  become  free  from  what  at  first  seemed  a  very  imminent 
peril,  Athelstan  turned  his  attention  to  quieting  the  Northumbrian  Danes, 
who  just  at  this  time  were  very  discontented  under  the  English  rule.  On 
his  arrival  he  saw  reason  to  believe  that  he  could  better  secure  their  obe- 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


137 


Sience  by  giving  them  a  tributary  pri'  e  of  their  own  race  than  by  the 
utmost  severity,  and  he  accordingly  g  ve  the  title  of  king  of  Nortnum> 
berland  to  Siihric,  a  powerful  Danish  chiefian,  to  whom  he  also  gave  the 
hand  of  his  own  sisier  Editha.  But,  though  this  was  sagacious,  and 
seemed  to  be  especially  safe  policy,  it  gave  rise  to  considerable  difRculty. 
Siihric,  who  was  a  widower  when  honoured  with  the  hand  of  Editha,  died 
about  a  year  after  his  second  marriage,  and  Anlaf  and  Godefrid,  his  sons 
by  the  former  marriage,  assumed  the  sovereignty  of  Northumberland,  ks 
a  matter  of  permanent  and  settled  hereditary  tenure,  and  not  of  the  king'i 
fa''our  and  conlerred  during  his  pleasure.  Highly  offended  at  this  pre- 
sumption of  the  young  men,  Athelstan  speedily  ejected  them  from  their 
assumed  sovereignty.  Anlaf  took  shelter  in  Ireland  and  Godefrid  in  Scot- 
land, where  he  was  very  kindly  and  honourably  treated  by  Constantine, 
then  king  of  that  country. 

Athelstan,  on  learning  that  the  presumptuous  Dane  who  was  so  likely 
to  prove  a  troublesome  enemy  to  him  was  protected  by  Constantine,  im- 
portuned him  to  put  his  guest  into  the  English  power.  Desirous  of  avoid- 
ing, if  possible,  an  open  quarrel  with  so  powerful  a  prince  as  Athelstan, 
the  Scottish  monarch  gave  a  feigned  consent  to  a  proposal  which  it  was 
almost  as  infamous  to  make  as  it  would  have  been  to  have  complied  with ; 
but  he  gave  Godefrid  private  intimation  which  enabled  him  to  get  to  sea, 
where,  after  making  himself  dreaded  as  a  pirate,  he  at  length  finished 
his  life. 

Athelstan,  who,  probably,  was  well  informed  by  spies  at  'he  Scottish 
court  of  the  part  which  Constantine  had  taken  in  aiding  the  escape  of 
Godefrid,  marched  a  numerous  army  into  Scotland,  and  so  much  distressed 
that  country  that  Constantine  found  himself  obliged  to  make  his  submis- 
sion in  order  to  save  his  country  and  himself  from  total  ruin.  Whether 
his  submission  went  to  the  extent  of  Constantine's  actually  acknowledg- 
ing himself  to  hold  his  crown  in  real  vassalage  to  the  king,  which  some 
historians  stoutly  affirm  and  others  just  as  stoutly  deny,  or  whether  it 
went  no  farther  than  apology  and  satisfaction  for  actual  offence  given, 
certain  it  is,  that  Constantine  took  the  earliest  and  most  open  opportunity 
of  showing  that  he  looked  upon  the  king  of  England  in  any  other  rather 
than  a  friendly  light.  For  Anlaf,  brother  of  Constantine's  deceased  pro- 
tege, having  gotten  together  a  body  of  Welsh  malcontents  and  Danish 
pirates,  Constantine  joined  forces  with  him, and  they  led  an  immense  body 
of  marauders  into  England.  Undismayed  by  the  numbers  of  the  invaders, 
Athelstan  marched  his  army  against  them,  and,  chiefly  owing  to  the  valour 
and  conduct  of  Turketul,  the  then  chancellor  of  England,  the  invaders 
were  completely  routed.  In  this  battle,  which  was  fought  near  Brunan- 
burg,  in  Northumberland,  a  great  number  of  the  Welsh  and  Danish  leaders 
perished,  and  Anlaf  and  the  Scottish  king,  after  losing  a  great  part  of  their 
forces,  were  barely  able  to  effect  their  own  escape. 

It  is  said  that  on  the  eve  of  this  great  battle  Anlaf  was  the  hero  of  an 
adventure  in  the  English  camp  like  that  of  Alfred  the  Great  in  the  camp 
of  Guthriim  the  Dane.  Habited  like  a  minstrel,  he  approached  the  Eng- 
lish camp,  and  his  music  was  so  much  admired  by  the  soldiers  that  they 
obtained  him  admission  to  the  king's  tent,  where  he  played  during  the 
royal  repast,  so  much  to  the  delight  of  the  king  and  his  nobles,  that  on 
being  dismissed  he  received  a  very  handsome  present.  Too  politic  to 
betray  his  disguise  by  refusing  the  present,  the  noble  Dane  was  also  far 
too  haughty  to  r^'ain  it;  and  as  soon  as  he  believed  himself  out  of  the 
reach  of  observc'<>n,  he  buried  it  in  the  earth.  One  of  Athelslan's  sol- 
diers, who  hud  formerly  fought  under  the  banner  of  Anlaf,  had  at  the  very 
first  sight  imagined  that  he  saw  his  old  chief  under  the  disguise  of  a  miii- 
sirel.  In  the  desire  to  ascertain  if  his  suspicion  were  correct,  he  follo\ved 
Anlaf  from  the  royal  teut,  and  his  suspicion  was  changed  into  conviction 


138 


THE  TEKA8URY  OF  HI8T0EY. 


when  he  saw  a  professedly  poor  and  wandering  minstrel  burying  the 
king  8  rich  gift.  He  accordingly  warned  the  king  that  his  daring  enemy 
had  been  in  his  tent.  At  first  the  king  was  very  angry  that  the  soldier 
had  not  made  this  discovery  while  there  was  yet  time  to  have  seized 
upon  the  pretended  minstrel;  but  the  soldier  nobly  replied,  that  having 
served  under  Aniaf,  he  could  not  think  of  betraying  him  to  ruin,  any  more 
than  he  now  could  peril  the  safety  of  Athclstan  himself  by  neglecting  to 
warn  him  of  Anlaf's  espionage.  To  such  a  mode  of  reasoning  thpre  could 
be  no  reply,  save  that  of  admiring  praise.  Having  dismissed  the  soldier, 
Athelstan  'pondered  on  the  probable  consequences  of  this  stealthy  visit 
paid  to  his  tent  by  Anlaf ;  and  it  having  struck  him  that  it  was  very  likely 
to  be  followed  by  a  night-attack,  he  immediately  had  his  tent  removed. 
The  bishops  of  that  day  were  to  the  full  as  brave  and  as  fond  of  war  as 
the  laity,  and  on  that  very  night  a  bishop  arrived  with  an  armed  train  to 
the  aid  of  his  sovereign.  The  prelate  took  up  the  station  which  the  king 
had  vacated ;  and  at  night  the  king's  suspicion  was  verified  with  great 
exactitude.  A  sudden  attack  was  made  upon  the  camp,  and  the  enemy, 
disdaining  all  meaner  prev,  rushed  straight  to  the  tent  which  they  sup- 
posed to  be  occupied  by  the  king,  and  the  belligerent  bishop  and  his  im- 
mediate attendants  were  butchered  before  they  had  time  to  prepare  for 
their  defence. 

The  decisive  battle  of  Brunanburgh  gave  Athelstan  psace  from  the 
Danes,  and  he  devoted  the  remainder  of  his  reign  to  wise  and  active  en- 
deavours to  improve  the  character  and  condition  of  his  subjects.  Several 
of  his  laws  were  well  calculated  to  that  end,  and  there  is  one  which  particu- 
larly entitles  him,  even  without  any  reference  to  the  barbarism  of  the  age 
in  which  he  made  it.  to  the  character  of  a  profound  and  sagacious  think 
er.  Anxious  to  encourage  a  mercantile  spirit  among  his  subjects,  he  or- 
dained by  this  law  that  any  merchant  who  on  his  own  adventure  should 
make  three  sea  voyages  should,  as  a  reward,  be  promoted  to  the  rank  of  a 
thane  or  gentle. 

After  an  extremely  active  and  prosperous  reign,  upon  which,howeverthis 
endeavour  to  persuade  the  Scottish  king  into  the  commission  of  an  act  of  the 
foullest  treachery  has  left  one  dark  and  indelible  stain,  though  the  only 
one,  this  king  died  in  the  year  941,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  half  brother 
Edmund,  the  legitimate  son  of  Edward  the  Elder. 

Stimulated  by  the  accession  of  a  new  king,  and  the  unsettled  state  of 
things  naturally  connected  with  a  new  reign,  the  Danes  of  Northumber- 
land broke  out  into  rebellion  against  Edmund  as  soon  as  he  had  ascended 
the  throne.  But  Edmund  marched  so  promptly  against  them,  and  at  the 
head  of  so  imposing  a  force,  that  they  met  him  with  assurances  of  the 
most  humble  and  pL.manent  submission,  and  even  voluntarily  offered  to 
prove  their  sincerity  as  Guthrum  and  his  followers  had  formerly  done  to 
Alfred,  by  becoming  Christians.  Edmund  accepted  their  submission,  but 
he  v'isely  judged  that  the  submission  extorted  by  an  armed  force  was  not 
likely  to  last  much  longer  than  the  fear  which  that  force  awakened;  and 
he  therefore  removed  the  five  Burgher  Danes  from  the  Mercian  towns  in 
which  they  had  been  allowed  to  settle.  A  wise  precaution,  as  they  had 
invariably  taken  advantage  of  their  situation  to  aid  rebellious  or  invading 
Danes  to  penetrate  into  the  very  heart  of  the  kingdom. 

Cumberland,  in  the  hands  of  the  Welsh  Britons  had  been  on  many  oc 
casions  a  sore  annoyance  to  the  northern  portion  of  the  English  dominion, 
and  Edmund  took  an  opportunity  to  wrest  it  from  the  Britons  and  to  bestow 
it  as  a  military  fief  on  Scotland,  that  power  accepting  it  on  condition  ot 
protecting  the  northern  part  of  England  from  Danish  incursion. 

Edmund's  active  and  useful  reign  had  only  endured  six  years  when  he 
was  murdered  under  circumstances  which  give  us  a  strange  notice  of  the 
domestic  habits  of  royalty  at  tint  day.    He  was  seated  at  a  banquet,  at 


THE  TaBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


139 


Uloucester,  wnen  an  infanjous  robber,  named  Leolf,  \%hoin  he  had  some  time 
before  condemned  to  banishment,  entered  the  hall  of  banquet,  and  seated 
himself  at  the  royal  table  with  as  cool  an  assurance  as  thoug^h  he  had  been 
a  favoured  as  well  as  an  innocent  and  loyal  subject.  The  king  angrilv 
ordered  the  fellow  from  the  room,  and,  on  receiving  some  insolent  refusal, 
seized  him  by  the  throat  and  endeavoured  to  thrust  him  out.  Whether  the 
ruffian  had  from  the  first  intended  to  assassinate  the  king,  or  whether  the 
king's  strength  and  p':i88ion  alarmed  the  robber  for  his  own  life,  is  uncer- 
tain; but  from  whichever  cause,  Leolf  suddenly  drew  hie  dagger  and 
killed  the  king  on  the  spot :  a.d.  946. 

Edmund  was  succeeded  by  his  brother  Edred  ;  another  instance  of  ir- 
regularity in  the  succession,  as  Edmund  left  children,  but  so  young  that 
they  were  deemed  unfit  for  the  throne,  and  it  would  seem  that  the  mutual 
jealousy  of  the  Saxon  nobles  as  yet  prevented  them  from  thinking  of  a  tem- 
porary regency,  as  a  means  at  once  of  preserving  the  direct  order  of  succes- 
sion and  remedying  the  nonageofthedirect  heir  to  the  crown.  The  new  king 
had  no  sooner  ascended  his  throne  than  the  Danes  of  Northumberland 
proved  how  justly  Athelstan  had  judged  of  their  sinrerity,  by  breaking  the 
peace  to  which  they  had  so  solemnly  pledged  themselves.  But  Edred  ad- 
vancing upon  them  with  a  numerous  army,  they  met  him  with  the  same 
submissive  aspect  which  had  disarmed  the  wrath  of  his  predecessor.  The 
king,  however,  was  so  much  provoked  at  their  early  disobedience  to  him 
that  he  would  not  allow  their  humility  to  prevent  him  from  inflicting  a 
severe  punishment  upon  them.  He  accordingly  put  many  of  them  to  the 
sword,  and  plundered  and  burned  their  country  to  a  considerable  extent ; 
and  then,  his  wrath  appeased,  he  consented  to  receive  their  oath  of  alle- 
giance and  withdrew  his  troops.  Scarcely  had  he  done  so  when  these 
ever-faithless  people  again  broke  out  into  rebellion,  perhaps  prompted  on 
this  particular  occasion  less  by  any  merely  mischievous  feeling,  than 
by  the  real  and  terrible  distress  to  which  the  king's  severity  had  reduced 
them.  This  new  revolt  was,  however,  speedily  quell  jd,  and  he  appointed 
an  English  governor  of  Northumberland,  and  placed  garrisons  in  all  the 
chief  towns  to  enable  him  to  support  his  authority.  Edred  about  this  time 
also  made  Malcolm  of  Scotland  repeat  his  homage  for  his  fief  of  Northum 
berland.  Though  Edred,  as  his  conduct  thus  early  in  his  reign  demon- 
strated, was  both  a  brave  and  an  active  prince,  he  was  extremely  super' 
stitious.  He  delighted  to  be  surrounded  by  priests;  and  to  his  e« 
pecial  favourite  Dunstan,  abbot  of  Canterbury,  he  not  only  committed 
some  of  the  most  influential  and  important  offices  of  the  state,  but  also 
to  a  very  ridiculous  extent,  surrendered  the  guidance  of  his  own  common 
sense.  Of  a  haughty  temper,  and  extremely  ambitious,  this  monk,  in  or 
der  to  have  tools  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  wide-spreading  purposes 
of  self-aggrandizement,  introduced  into  England  a  great  number  of  a  new 
order  of  monks,  the  Benedictines,  who,  laying  a  stress  upon  celibacy  be- 
yond that  laid  by  any  former  order,  and  professing  generally  a  more  rigid 
way  of  life  and  a  greater  purity  of  heart,  were,  in  truth,  the  mere  tools  ol 
the  vast  and  still  increasing  ambition  of  Rome,  to  which  the  practice  oi 
celibacy  among  the  priesthood  was  especially  favourable,  as  they  who  thus 
debarred  themselves  from  conjugal  and  paternal  ties  could  not  fail  to  be 
more  willing  and  passive  servants. 

To  introduce  this  new  and  entirely  subservient  order  of  monks  into  Eng- 
land was  greatly  desired  by  the  pope,  and  the  ambitious  policy  of  Dun- 
stan, and  his  almost  despotic  power  over  the  superstitious  mind  of  Edred, 
afforded^  full  opportunity  for  doing  so.  The  influence  of  Dunstan,  indeed, 
was  very  great  over  the  people  as  well  as  over  the  king  ;  though  l)e  com- 
menced life  under  circumstances  which  would  have  ruined  a  man  of  less  de- 
termined ambition,  and  ofless  pliant  and  accomplished  hypocrisy  than  him- 
nelf.  Of  noble  birth,  and  enjoying  the  great  advantage  of  having  been  edu- 


140 


THE  TRBA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


cated  by  his  uncle,  the  accomplished  Adhelm,  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
he  entered  the  church  early  in  life,  but  with  so  little  of  real  vocation  to  the 
sacred  profession,  that  his  way  of  life  procured  him  a  moat  unenviable 
character;  and  King  Edmund,  in  whose  reign  this  famous  saint  of  the 
Roman  calendar  commenced  his  career,  looked  coldly  upon  a  priest  whose 
debauchery  was  represented  to  be  such  as  would  disgrace  even  a  layman 
Enraged  at  finding  his  ambition  thus  suddenly  checked,  he  was  not  the 
less  determined  that  the  check  should  be  but  temporary.     Affecting  to  be 
suddenly  stricken  with  penitence  and  shame,  he  secluded  himself,  at  Arst 
'from  the  coyrt,  and  then  altogether  from  society.     He  had  a  cell  made  foi 
his  residence,  of  such  scant  dimensions,  that  he  could  neither  stand  fully 
upright  in  it,  nor  stretch  himself  out  at  full  length  when  sleeping;  and  in 
this  miserable  dwelling,  if  dwelling  it  can  be  called,  he  perpetually  turned 
from  prayer  to  manual  labour,  and  from  manual  labour  to  prayer,  during 
all  his  hours,  except  the  very  few  which  he  allowed  himself  tor  sleep.  The 
austerity  of  his  life  imposed  upon  the  imaginations  of  the  suporstitioui 
people,  who  considered  austerity  the  surest  of  all  proofs  of  sanctity  ;  and 
when,  whether  in  mere  and  unmingled  hypocrisy,  or  in  part  hypocrisy 
and  part  lelf-delusion,  he  pretended  to  be  frequently  visited  and  tempted 
by  Satan  in  person,  his  tale  found  greedy  listeners  and  ready  believers. 
From  one  degree  of  absurditjr  to  another  is  but  an  easy  step  for  vulgar 
credulity.    It  being  once  admitted  that  Satan,  provoked  or  grieved  by  the 
immaculate  life  and  fervent  piety  of  the  recluse,  visited  him  to  tempt  him 
into  sin,  what  difficulty  could  there  be  in  supposing  that  the  recluse  re* 
sisted  a  long  time  only  with  prayer,  but  at  length  resorted  to  physical 
force,  and  held  the  fiend  by  the  nose  with  a  red  hot  pair  of  tongs,  until  he 
shrieked  aloud  with  agony,  and  promised  to  abstain  for  the  future  from  his 
unholy  importunity  ?    Such  was  the  tale  which  Dunstan,  the  recluse,  had 
the  audacity  to  offer  to  the  public  belief  and  such  was  the  tale  to  which 
the  public  listened  with  attentive  ears,  and  gave  "faith  and  full  credence.** 
When  a  long  seclusion,  and  carefully  circulated  rumours  of  his  piety  and 
self-mortification,  had  done  away  with  the  ill  impressions  which  had  been 
excited  by  wilder,  but  in  reality,  far  less  censurable  conduct  of  his  earlier 
days,  Dunstan  once  more  made  his  appearance  at  court ;  and,  as  Edred 
was  deeply  tinged  with  superstitious  feeling,  the  priest  was  kindly  re> 
ceived  at  first,  and  very  soon  favoured  and  promoted  above  all  the  other 
courtiers.      Raised  to  the  direction  of  the  treasury,  and  being,  moreover, 
the  king's  private  adviser  in  all  important  concerns,  Dunstan  had  immense 
power  and  influence,  which  he  used  to  advance  the  great  object  of  Rome 
in  substituting  the  devoted  monks  for  the  comparatively  independent  se* 
cular  clergy,  who,  having  family  ties  and  affections,  were  not  sufficiently 
prostrate  or  blindly  obedient  to  suit  the  papal  purpose.    During  nine  years 
— the  length  of  Edred's  reign — the  monks  made  immense  progress  in  Eng« 
land.    They  enlisted  the  feelings  of  the  people  on  their  side  by  their  se- 
vere and  passionate  declamation  against  the  worldly  lives,  and  especially 
against  the  marriage  of  the  secular  clergy,  whose  wives  they  persisted  in 
calling  by  the  opprobrious  name  of  concubines.    And  though  the  secuki 
clergy,  who  possessed  both  talent  and  wealth,  exerted  themselves  man 
fully,  not  only  to  defend  their  own  lives,  but  also  to  expose  the  hypocrisy, 
pretended  purity,  and  actual  and  even  shameful  worldiness  and  sensuHlity 
of  their  opponents,  the  power  and  credit  of  Dunstan  weighed  fearfully 
against  them.    The  death  of  Edred,  which  occurred  in  956,  revived  their 
hopes,  and  threatened  to  stop  the  progress  of  the  monks,  and  to  lower 
the  credit  of  their  patron  Dunstan. 

The  children  of  Edred  were  still  in  their  infancy  when  he  died,  and  hie 
nephew,  Edmund's  son  Edv-.-y,  who  had  himself  been  passed  over  in  favour 
of  Edred  on  the  same  account,  now  succeeded  to  the  throne.  He  was  at 
the  time  of  his  succession  only  about  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  blessed 


IHB  1EBA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


141 


tvith  a  fine  i^erson  and  a  powerful  and  well-trained  mind.  But  all  his  nat- 
ural and  acquired  good  qualities  were  rendered  of  but  little  use  to  him  by 
the  enmity  of  the  monks,  with  wht  m  he  had  a  serious  quarrel  at  the  very 
commencement  of  his  career. 

Opposed  to  the  marriage  of  clerks  altogether,  the  monks  were  scarcely 
less  hostile  to  the  marriage  of  laics  within  the  degrees  of  affinity  forbid- 
den by  the  canon  law.  Kdwy.  passionately  in  love  with  the  Princess 
ElgivH,  to  whom  he  was  related  within  those  degrees,  was  too  inexperi- 
enced to  perceive  nil  the  evils  that  might  result  to  both  himself  and  the 
fair  Elgiva  from  his  provoking  the  fierce,  bigoted,  and  now  very  powerful 
monks  ;  and  in  despite  of  all  the  advice  and  warnings  of  the  ecclesiastics 
he  espoused  her.  The  coarse  and  violent  censure  which  the  monks  took 
occasion  to  pass  upon  the  marriage  aggravated  the  dislike  which,  on  ac- 
count of  their  gloom  and  severity,  Edwy  had  always  felt  to  the  monks, 
whom  he  took  every  occasion  to  disappoint  in  their  endeavours  to  possess 
themselves  of  the  convents  belonging  to  the  secular  clergy. 

If  the  king  had  disliked  the  monks,  the  monks  now  hated  the  king  with 
A  most  bitter  hatred.  By  his  marriage  he  had  offended  their  rigid  bigotry, 
by  his  favours  to  the  seculars  he  disappointed  their  grasping  avarice,  and, 
favoured  and  advised  as  they  were  by  a  personage  at  once  so  able,  crafty, 
audacious,  and  powerful  as  Dunstan,  it  needed  not  the  spirit  of  prophecy 
to  foresee  that  Edwy  would  infalliby  be  their  victim. 

As  if  to  show  that  they  were  determined  to  carry  their  hatred  to  the 
utmost  extent,  they  chose  the  very  day  of  the  coronation  for  their  first 
manifestation  of  it;  the  day  upon  which  they  had  sworn  fealty  to  the  sov- 
ereign, at  which  to  outrage  him  as  a  man,  and  commit  little  less  than  trea- 
sonable violence  upon  him  as  their  king!  so  little  does  the  rancour  of 
mingled  bigotry  and  avarice  regard  even  the  forms  of  consistency  and 
decency. 

The  Saxons,  like  their  ancestors,  the  ancient  Germans,  drank  deep,  and 
were  wont  to  be  but  riotous  and  uncouth  companions  in  their  cups.  Both 
from  his  youth  and  his  natural  temper,  Edwy  was  averse  to  this  riotous 
wassail;  and  as  his  nobles,  at  his  coronation  feast,  began  to  pass  the 
bounds  of  temperance,  he  took  an  opportunity  to  leave  the  banqueting 
apartment  and  go  to  that  of  his  young  and  lovely  queen.  He  was  instant- 
ly followed  thither  by  the  haughty  and  insolent  Dunstan,  and  by  Odo, 
archbishop  of  Canterbury.  These  presumptuous  churchmen  upbraided 
him  in  the  most  severe  terms  for  alleged  uxoriousness,  applied  the  coars- 
est epithets  to  the  alarmed  queen,  and  finished  by  thrusting  him  back  into 
the  scene  of  riot  and  drunkeiniess  from  which  he  had  so  lately  escaped. 

Edwy  had  not  sufficient  power  and  influence  in  his  court  to  take  imme- 
diate and  direct  revenge  for  this  most  flagrant  and  disgraceful  insult;  but 
he  felt  it  too  deeply  to  pass  it  over  without  visiting  it,  at  the  least  with  in- 
direct punishment.  Aware  that  Dunstan  was  by  no  means  the  immacu- 
late and  unworldly  person  he  was  suppposed  to  be  by  the  ignorant  multi- 
ude,an<j  strongly  suspecting  that  he  had  taken  advantage  of  the  weak- 
ness and  superstition  of  Edred  greatly  to  enrich  himself,  he  desired  him  to 
give  an  account  of  his  receipts  and  expenditure  during  that  prince's  reign. 
Dunstan,  with  characteristic  insolence,  refused  to  give  any  account  of  the 
monies  which  he  aflirmed  to  have  been  expended  by  order  of  Edred,  and 
which  he  on  that  account  pretended  that  Edwy  had  no  right  to  inquirr 
about. 

Enraged  at  ihe  insolence  of  Dunstan,  and  yet  not  altogether  displeased 
at  being  furnished  with  so  good  a  pretext  for  ridding  the  court  of  the  pow- 
erful and  haughty  ecclesiastic,  Edwy  urged  this  refusal  against  him  as  a 
certain  proof  of  conscious  malversation,  and  ordered  him  to  leave  the 
kingdom.  Powerful  as  Dunstan  was,  he  was  not  yet  in  a  condition  to  dis- 
pute such  an  order ;  he  could  brutally  insult  the  king,  but  he  did  not  a^ 


mmmmm 


142  THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 

yet  dare  openly  to  rebel  against  the  kingly  authority.  He  went  abroad, 
therefore,  but  he  left  behind,  in  the  person  of  Odo,  the  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury,  one  who  was  both  qualified  and  willing  to  supply  his  place  in 
insolence  to  the  king  personally,  and  in  traitorous  intrigue  against  his  royal 
authority.  Odo  and  the  monks  seized  upon  the  banishment  of  Dunstan, 
richly  as  his  conduct  had  merited  a  severer  punishment,  as  a  theme  unon 
which  to  sound  anew  the  praises  of  that  accomplished  hypocrite,  and  to 
blacken  the  character  of  the  king  and  queen  in  the  eyes  of  the  people. 
In  so  bigoted  and  ignorant  an  age  such  tactics  as  these  were  sure  to  suc- 
ceed ;  and  having  made  the  king  hateful,  as  well,  as  the  queen,  whom 
they  represented  as  the  wicked  and  artful  seducer  of  her  husband  into  all 
evil  conduct,  both  as  a  man  and  sovereign,  Odo  and  his  base  tools  at 
lengtii  ventured  from  whispered  calumny  and  falsehood,  to  violence  the 
most  undi8gui8i;d,  and  to  cruelty  the  most  inhuman  and  detestable. 

Considering  their  aversion  to  Edwy's  marriage  with  his  cousin  to  be 
the  chief  cause  of  his  opposition  to  their  interests,  Odo  and  the  monlgsb 
party  hated  the  queen  even  more  bitterly  than  they  did  the  king  him- 
self. Proceeding  to  the  palace  with  a  strong  guard,  Odo  seized  upon  the 
lovely  queen,  branded  her  face  with  hot  irons  to  efface  those  charms 
wnich  had  wrought  so  much  evil  to  the  ambitious  churchmen,  and  car 
ried  her  into  Ireland,  where  it  was  intended  she  should  be  kept  under 
strict  surveillance  for  the  remainder  of  her  life.  Edwy  was  naturally 
both  brave  and  passionate,  but  he  was  powerless  in  the  hands  of  the  wily 
monks  as  a  lion  in  the  toils  of  the  hunters  ;  he  tenderly  loved  his  un- 
happy queen,  but  he  could  neither  save  her  from  this  horrible  outrage,  nor 
even  punish  her  brutal  and  unmanly  persecutors.  Nay  more,  when  Odo, 
after  having  tortured  and  exiled  the  queen,  demanded  that  she  should  he 
formally  divorced,  so  much  more  powerful  was  the  crozier  than  the  scep- 
tre, thut  the  unhappy  Edwy  was  obliged  to  yield. 

Cruelly  as  Elgiva  had  been  treated,  the  brutality  of  her  enemies  fail- 
ed of  its  main  object ;  though  she  suffered  much  from  her  wounds,  they, 
singularly  enough,  left  scarcely  a  scar  to  diminish  her  rare  beauty. 
Aware  of  the  tyranny  which  had  been  practised  to  cause  Edwy  to  divorce 
her,  and  considering  herself  still  his  lawful  wife  in  the  sight  of  Heaven, 
she  eluded  the  vigilance  of  those  who  were  appointed  to  watch  her  move- 
ments, and  made  her  escape  back  to  England.  But  before  she  could 
reach  her  husband  her  escape  was  made  known  to  Odo,  and  she  was  in- 
tercepted on  the  road  by  a  party  of  emissaries,  by  whom  she  was  ham- 
stringed ;  and  all  surgical  aid  being  denied  her,  she  in  a  few  days  died, 
in  the  most  fearful  agonies,  in  the  city  of  Gloucester.  So  completely  monk- 
ridden  were  the  ignorant  people,  that  even  this  detestable  and  unnatural 
cruelty,  which  ought  to  have  caused  one  universal  outcry  against  the  miscre- 
ants who  instigated  it,  was  looked  upon  by  the  people  merely  as  a  punish- 
ment due  to  the  sinful  opposition  of  king  and  queen  to  the  canon  law  and 
the  holy  monks. 

Having  gone  as  far  as  we  have  related  in  treason,  it  cannot  be  wonder- 
ed at  that  the  monks  now  proceeded  to  arm  for  the  dethronement  of  their 
unhappy  king.  They  set  up  as  his  competitor  his  younger  brother  Edgar, 
who  was  at  this  time  a  youth  of  only  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of  age; 
and  they  soon  took  possession,  in  his  name,  of  East  AngUa,  Mercia,  and 
Northumberland.  Edwy  was  now  confined  to  the  southern  counties  of 
his  kingdom;  and  to  add  to  his  danger  and  distress,  his  haughty  and  im- 
placable enemy,  Dunstan,  openly  returned  to  England  to  lend  his  power- 
ful influence  to  Edgar  in  this  unnatural  civil  strife.  He  was  made  bishop, 
first  of  Worcester  and  then  of  London,  and,  Odo  dying,  Dunstan  was  then 
promoted  to  the  archbishopric  of  Canterbury  ;  Brithelm,  who  had  been  first 
appointed  to  succeed  Odo,  beingj  forcibly  expelled  for  that  purpose. 
The  consummate  cunning  of  Dunstan  fearfully  aggravated  the  cvits  n. 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Gdwy's  condition,  for  the  wily  churchman  caused  him  to  be  excommuni- 
cated, a  sentence  which  in  that  rude  and  ignorant  age  would  have  sufficed  to 
crush  a  far  more  powerrul  monarch  than  he  had  been,  even  before  rebel- 
lion  had  divided  his  kingdom. 

If  we  may  judge  from  the  unrelenting  purpose  show.i  by  Dunstan,  the 
utter  dethronement  of  Edwy,  and  his  exile,  or  violent  death,  would  have 
been  the  sole  termination  of  this  disgraceful  affair;  but  from  the  sin  ol 
his  murder  his  enemies  were  spared  by  his  untimely  and  rather  sudden 
death,  hastened  no  doubt  by  the  miser^p*^  ^f  which  he  had  constantly  been 
a  victim. 

Edgar,  for  whom  for  their  own  purposes  Dunstan  and  the  monks  had 
usurped  a  part  of  the  kingdom,  now  became  the  undisputed  sovereign  of 
the  whole.  Though  very  young  at  this  time,  being  only  in  the  seventeenth 
year  of  his  age,  this  prince  showed  a  profound,  wily  nnd  politic  genius. 
Desirous  of  consolidating  and  improving  his  kingdom,  and  of  procuring 
it  a  high  degree  of  credit  among  foreign  nations,  ho  seems  to  liave  clear- 
ly perceived  that  he  could  only  preserve  the  internal  peace  which  was  in- 
dispensible  to  his  purposes,  by  keeping  the  favour  of  Dunstan  and  the 
monks,  of  whose  power  he  had  seen  so  many  proofs  in  the  case  of  his 
unfortunate  brother.  Well  knowing  their  eager  desire  to  wrest  all  the 
religious  property  of  the  kingdom  from  the  hands  of  the  secular  clergy, 
he  bestowed  church  preferment  on  the  partizans  of  the  monks  exclusive- 
ly. To  Oswold  and  Ethelwold,  two  of  the  creatures  of  Dunstan,  he  gave 
the  valuable  sees  of  Worcester  and  Winchester,  and  he  consulted  them, 
and  especially  Dunstan,  not  merely  upon  those  affairs  which  more  espe- 
cially concerned  the  church,  but  even  in  many  cases  upon  those  of  apure- 
ly  civil  nature.  By  this  general  subserviency  to  the  ecclesiastics  Edgar 
secured  so  strong  an  interest  with  them,  that  even  when  he  occasionally 
differed  from  them,  and  preferred  the  dictates  of  his  own  strong  sense  to 
their  bigoted  or  interested  advice,  he  was  allowed  to  proceed  without 
any  angry  feeling,  or  at  least,  without  any  opposition.  There  was  a  most 
startling  difference  in  the  treatment  bestowed  by  the  monks  upon  this 
prince,  and  that  which  they  inflicted  upon  his  unhappy  brother.  As  they 
founded  their  claim  to  the  veneration  of  mankind  upon  their  superior 
piety,  and  more  especially  upon  their  inviolable  observance  of  their  vow 
of  chastity,  so  they  had  made  the  alledged  lewdness  of  Edwy  the  excuse 
for  their  abominable  treatment  of  that  prince  and  Queen  Elgiva.  Yet  if 
lewdness  had  indeed  been  so  hateful  to  them  as  to  impel  them  to  barbarity 
towards  a  lovely  and  defenceless  woman,  and  to  rebellion  and  treason 
towards  their  sovereign,  Edg.'ir  was  tenfold  more  deserving  their  violent 
opposition  than  even  their  ov/n  statement  showed  Edwy  to  be.  The  lewd- 
ness of  Edgar,  after  his  pliant  and  politic  subserviency  to  the  monks,  was 
the  most  distinguishing  trait  in  his  character.  On  one  occasion  he  ac- 
tually broke  into  a  convent,  seized  a  nun,  by  name  Editha,  and  forci- 
bly violated  her.  For  this  two-fold  outrage  against  chastity  and  religion 
the  hypocrite  Dunstan,  who  had  mutilated  Elgiva,  and  persecuted  Edgar 
even  to  an  untimely  grave,  merely  for  a  marriage  which  was  at  the  worst 
irregular,  and  which  a  bull  from  the  pope  would  have  made  regular,  sen- 
tenced Edgar  to  the  absurdly  puerile  punishment  of  abstaining  for  seven 
years  from  wearing  the  crown ! 

As  if  to  make  the  favour  shown  to  him  by  the  monks  quite  concln- 
sive  as  to  the  hypocrisy  of  the  pretences  upon  which  they  had  persecuted 
his  unfortunate  brother,  this  prince  not  merely  indulged  in  disgraceful 
amours ;  he  actually  obtained  his  second  wife  by  murder!  The  story  is 
sufficiently  striking  in  itself  to  deserve  to  be  related  at  some  length,  and  it 
actually  demands  to  be  so  related  as  a  final  and  conclusive  proof  of  the 
hypocrisy  of  the  monks  in  their  gross  and  barbarous  treatment  of 
King  Edwy. 


144 


THE  TRKAbUUr  OF  HI8T0EY. 


Elfrida,  daujjhior  and  hoiross  of  tlio  Karl  of  Devonshire,  was  so  ex 
tremcly  beaulifiil  that  it  was  no  wonder  tho  renown  of  her  charms  reached 
the  court,  and  the  inflammable  Kdgar  resolved  that  if  report  had  not  ex- 
ag[gerated  tlie  beauty  of  the  lady  he  would  make  her  his  wife;  the  wealth, 
powet-,  and  character  of  her  father  forbidding  even  the  unscrupulous  and 
lewd  Edgar  from  hoping  to  obtain  her  on  anv  less  honourable  terms. 
Being  anxious  not  to  commit  himself  by  any  aclvanccs  to  tlu;  parents  of 
the  lady  until  quite  sure  that  she  was  really  as  surpassingly  beautiful  as 
she  was  reported  to  be,  he  sent  his  favourite  and  confidant,  the  Karl  Athel- 
wold,  to  visit  the  earl  of  Devon  as  if  by  mere  accident,  that  ho  might  judge 
whether  the  charms  of  Elfrida  really  were  such  as  would  adorn  the  throne. 
Earl  Athelwold  fulfilled  his  mission  very  faithfully,  as  regarded  tiie  visit, 
but,  unhappily  for  himself,  he  found  the  charms  of  Elfrida  so  much  to  his 
own  taste,  tliat  he  forgot  the  curiosity  of  his  master,  and  sued  the  lady  on 
his  own  account.    Well  knowing  that  with  the  king  for  an  avowed  rival 
his  suit  would  have  little  chance  of  success,  his  first  care  was  to  lull  the 
eager  anxiety  of  Edgar  by  assuring  him  that  in  this,  as  in  most  cases, 
rumour  with  her  thousand  tongues  had  been  guilty  of  the  grossest  exag- 
geration,  and  that  the  wealth  and  rank  of  Elfrida  had  caused  her  to  be  re- 
nowned for  charms  so  moderate,  that  in  a  woman  of  lower  degree  they 
would  never  be  noticed.     But  though  the  charms  of  Elfrida,  Earl  Athel- 
wold added,  by  no  means  fitted  her  for  the  throne,  her  fortune  would  make 
her  a  very  acceptable  countess  for  himself,  should  the  consent  and  re- 
commendation of  his  gracious  master  accompany  his  suit  to  her  parents. 
Fully  believing  that  his  favourite  really  was  actuated  only  by  merce- 
nary views,  EJdgar  cheerfully  gave  him  tlie  permission  and  recommenda- 
tion he  solicited,  and  in  the  quality  of  a  favoured  courtier  he  easily  procured 
the  consent  of  the  lady — to  whom  he  had  already  made  himself  far  from 
indifferent — and  of  her  parents.     He  had  scarcely  become  possessed  of 
his  beautiful  bride  when  he  began  to  reflect  upon  what  would  be  the  pro- 
bable consequences  of  a  detection  by  the  king  of  the  fraud  that  had  been 
practised  to  gain  his  consent  to  the  marriage.     Tn  order  to  postpone  thie 
detection  as  long  as  possible,  he  framed  a  variety  of  pretences  for  keep- 
ing his  lovely  bride  at  a  distance  from  the  court ;  and  as  his  report  of  the 
homeliness  of  Elfrida  had  completely  cooled  the  fancy  of  the  king,  Earl 
Athelwold  began  to  hope  that  his  deceit  would  never  be  discovered.     But 
the  old  adage  that  "a  favourite  has  no  friends"  was  proved  in  his  case  ; 
enemies  desirous  of  ruining  him  made  his  fraud  known  to  the  king,  and 
spoke  more  rapturously  than  ever  of  the  charms  of  Elfrida.     Enragei  at 
the  deception  practised  upon  him,  but  carefully  dissembling  his  real 
motives  and  purpose,  the  king  told  Athelwold  that  he  would  pay  him  a 
visit  and  be  introduced  to  his  wife.     To  such  an  intimation  the  unfortu- 
nate earl  could  make  no  objection  which  would  not  wholly  and  at  once 
betray  his  perilous  secret ;  but  he  obtained  permission  to  precede  the  king, 
under  pretence  of  making  due  preparation  to  receive  him,  but  in  reality  to 
prevail  upon  Elfrida  to  disguise  her  beauty  and  rusticate  her  behaviour  as 
far  as  possible.    This  she  promised,  and  probably  at  first  intended  to  do. 
But,  on  reflection,  she  naturally  considered  herself  injured  by  the  decep- 
tion which  had  cost  her  the  throne,  and,  so  far  from  complying  with  her 
unfortunate  husband's  desire,  she  called  to  the  aid  of  her  charms  all  the 
assistance  of  the  most  becoming  dress,  and  all  the  seductions  of  the  most 
graceful  and  accoirplished  behaviour.  Fascinated  with  her  beauty,  Edgar 
was  beyond  all  expression  enraged  at  the  deceit  by  which  his  favourite 
had  contrived  to  cheat  him  of  a  wife  so  lovely  ;  and  having  enticed  the 
unfortunate  earl  into  a  forest  on  a  hunting  excursion,  he  put  him  to  death 
with  his  own  hand,  and  soon  after  married  Elfrida,  whose  perfidy  to  her 
murdered  husband  made  her,  indeed,  a  very  fit  spouse  for  the  murderer. 
Though  much  of  this  monarch's  time  was  devoted  to  disaolute  pleasures, 


THE  TKHASUar  OF  HISTORY. 


145 


ke  by  no  means  neglected  public  business,  mure  especially  of  that  kind 
which  procured  him  the  indulgence  of  the  inuciks  for  all  his  wurst  vices. 

Much  as  the  monks  and  the  king  had  done  towards  wresting  the  chureh 
property  from  the  hands  of  the  secular  clergy,  morn  still  remained  to  b« 
done ;  and  Edgar,  doubtless  acting  upon  the  advice  of  Uunstan,  summoned 
a  council,  consisting  of  the  prelates  and  heads  of  religious  ordern.  To 
this  council  he  made  a  passicmate  speech  in  reprobation  of  the  dissoluts 
and  scandalous  lives  which  ho  afTlrmed  to  bo  notoriously  led  by  the  sec- 
ular clergy  :  their  neglect  of  clerical  duty ;  their  openly  living  with  con- 
cubines, for  so  he  caFled  their  wives ;  their  participation  in  hunting  and 
other  sports  of  the  laity  ;  and — singular  fault  to  call  forth  the  declamation 
of  a  king  and  employ  the  wisdom  of  a  council — the  smallness  of  their 
ton  lire  !  Affecting  to  blame  Dunstan  for  having  by  too  much  lenity  in 
sonii;  sort  encouraged  the  disorderv  of  the  secular  clergy,  the  accomplished 
dissembler  supposed  the  pious  Edred  to  look  down  from  Heaven,  and 
thus  to  speak : 

"  It  was  by  your  advice,  Dunstan,  that  I  founded  monasteries,  built 
churches,  and  expended  my  treasures  in  the  Support  of  religion  and  reli- 
gious  houses.  You  were  my  counselor  and  my  assistant  in  all  my 
schemes ;  you  wore  the  director  of  mv  conscience  ;  to  you  I  was  in  all 
things  obedient.  When  did  you  call  (or  supplies  which  I  refused  you  * 
Was  my  assistance  ever  withheld  from  the  poorl  Did  I  deny  establish 
ments  and  support  to  the  convents  and  the  clergy.  Did  I  not  hearken  to 
your  instructions  when  you  told  me  that  these  charities  were,  beyond  all 
others,  the  most  grateful  to  my  Maker,  and  did  I  not  in  consequence  Ax  a 
perpetual  fund  for  the  support  of  religion  1  And  are  all  our  pious  endeav- 
ours now  to  be  frustrated  by  the  dissolute  lives  of  the  c'.ergy  1  Not  that 
1  throw  any  blame  upon  you ;  you  have  reasoned,  bcsouglit,  inculcated, 
and  inveighed,  but  it  now  behoves  you  to  use  sharper  and  more  vigoroui 
remedies ;  and,  conjoining  your  spiritual  authority  with  the  civil  power,  U 
purge  effectually  the  temple  of  Qod  from  thieves  and  intruders.''^ 

The  words  which  we  give  in  Italics  were  decisive  as  to  the  whole  ques- 
tion; the  inn.cence  of  the  secular  clergy,  as  a  body,  could  avail  them 
nothing  againsi  this  union  of  civil  power  and  spiritual  authority,  backed 
and  cheered  as  that  union  was  by  the  people,  whom  the  hypocritical  pre- 
tences of  the  monks  had  made  sincerely  favourable  to  those  aflected 
purists  ;  and  the  monkish  discipline  shortly  prevailed  in  nearly  every  reli- 
gious house  in  the  land. 

Much  as  all  honourable  minds  must  blame  the  means  by  which  Edgar 
preserved  the  favour  of  tlie  formidable  monks,  all  candid  minds  must 
award  him  the  praise  of  having  made  good  use  of  tiie  power  he  thus  pro- 
served  in  his  own  hands.  He  not  only  kept  up  a  strong  and  well-disci- 
plined land  force,  in  constant  readiness  to  defend  any  part  of  his  kingdom 
that  might  be  attacked,  but  he  also  built  and  kept  up  an  excellent  navy, 
the  vigilance  and  strength  of  which  greatly  diminished  the  chance  of  any 
such  attack  being  .nade.  Awed  by  his  navy,  the  Danes  abroad  dared  not 
attempt  to  invade  his  country ;  and  constantly  watched  and  kept  in  check 
by  his  army,  the  domestic  Danes  perceived  that  turbulence  on  their  part 
could  produce  no  effect  but  their  own  speedy  and  sure  ruin.  His  neiglv- 
bours  of  Scotland,  Wales,  Ireland,  and  the  adjacent  isles,  held  him  in 
equal  respect ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  no  king  of  England  ever  showed 
himself  either  more  desirous  or  more  able  to  preserve  to  his  kingdom  the 
invaluable  benefits  of  peace  at  home  and  respect  abroad.  In  proof  of  the 
extent  to  which  he  carried  his  ascendency  over  the  neighbouring  and 
tributary  princes,  it  is  affirmed,  that  being  at  Chester,  and  desiring  to  visit 
the  abbey  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  that  city,  bs 
actually  caased  his  barge  to  be  rowed  thither  by  eight  of  those  princes,  in- 
cluding Kenneth  the  Third,  king  of  Scotland. 

I— 10 


140 


TH«  TEKAiURY  Of  HI8T0RT. 


The  Uiftful  arts  receiven  a  jjrrat  impulne  «lMrin(?  thin  reign  from  the 
mat  encouragement  given  by  Kdffar  to  ingenious  and  industriona 
foreignera  to  aeitle  among  hia  Hnbjecta.  Another  benefit  which  he  con- 
ferred upon  hia  kingdom  was  that  of  ihe  extirpation  of  wolvea,  which  at 
the  commencement  of  hia  reign  were  very  numcroua  and  mischievona. 
By  giving  rewarda  to  those  who  put  these  animals  to  death,  they  were  at 
length  hunted  into  the  mountainous  and  woody  country  of  Wales,  and  in 
order  that  even  there  so  misethiovous  a  race  might  find  no  peace  he  com- 
muted the  tribute  money  due  from  Wales  to  Kngland  to  a  tribute  of  three 
hundred  wolves'  heads  to  be  sent  to  him  annually,  which  policy  speedily 
caused  their  entire  destruction.  After  a  busy  reign  of  sixteen  years  this 
prince,  still  in  the  flower  of  his  age,  being  only  thirty-three,  died,  and 
was  succeeded  by  his  son  Edward  in  the  year  976. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


niOM   THE    ACCESSION    Of   EDWARD   THE    MARTYR   TO   THE    DEATH    OT  OANUTI 

Edward  II.,  subseouently  surnamed  the  Martyr,  though  his  death  had 
nothing  to  do  with  religion,  was  the  son  of  Edgar  by  that  prince's  first 
wife,  and  was  only  fifteen  years  of  age  when  he  succeeded  to  the  throne. 
His  youth  encouraged  his  step-mother,  Elfrida,  to  endeavour  to  set  aside 
his  succession  in  favour  of  her  own  son  and  his  half-brother,  Ethelred,  who 
at  this  time  was  only  seven  years  old.  This  extremely  bad  woman  pre- 
tended that  the  marriage  of  her  husband  to  his  first  wife  was  on  several 
accounts  invalid,  and  as  her  beauty  and  art  had  been  very  successfully 
exerted  in  securing  favour  during  the  life  of  Edgar,  she  would  probably 
have  succeeded  in  her  iniquitous  design  had  the  circumstances  been  less 
favourable  to  Edward.  But  though  that  prince  was  very  young,  he  was 
at  least  much  nearer  to  the  age  for  reigning  than  his  half-brother ;  the  will 
of  his  father  expressly  gave  him  the  succession  ;  many  of  the  principal 
men  of  the  kingdom  imagined  that  the  regency  of  Elfrida  would  be  an 
extremely  tyrannical  one ;  and  Dunstan,  who  was  in  the  plenitude  of  his 
power,  and  who  reckoned  upon  the  favour  and  docility  of  young  Edward, 
powerfully  supported  him,  and  crowned  him  at  Kingston,  before  Elfrida 
could  bring  her  ambitious  plans  to  maturity. 

The  prompt  and  energetic  support  thus  given  by  Dunstan  to  the  rightful 
heir  would  entitle  him  to  our  unqualified  applause,  were  there  not  good 
and  obvious  reason  to  believe  that  it  originated  less  in  a  sense  of  justice 
than  in  anxiety  for  the  interests  of  his  own  order.  In  spite  of  the  hea\  y 
blows  and  great  disoourcgent  mt  of  Edgar,  the  secular  clergy  had  still 
many  and  powerful  frie-tds.  Among  these  was  the  duke  of  Mercia,  who 
no  sooner  ascertained  the  death  of  King  Edgar  than  he  expelled  all  the 
monks  from  the  religious  houses  in  Mercia,  and  though  they  were  received 
and  protected  by  the  dukes  of  the  East  Saxons  and  the  Efast  Anglians,  it 
was  clear  to  both  Dunstan  and  the  monks  that  there  was  a  sufficient  dis- 
like to  the  new  order  of  ecclesiastics  tc  render  it  very  important  that  they 
should  have  a  king  entirely  favourable  to  them.  And  as  Dunstan  had 
watched  and  trained  Edward's  mind  from  his  early  childhood,  they  well 
knew  that  he  would  prove  their  fittest  instrument.  But  though  they  had 
thus  secured  the  throne  to  a  king  as  favourable  and  docile  as  they  could 
desire,  they  left  no  means  untried  to  gain  the  voices  of  the  multitude.  At 
the  occasional  synods  that  were  held  for  the  settlement  of  ecclesiastical 
diaputss,  they  pretended  that  miracles  were  worked  in  their  favour ;  and. 


Tui  TEBAauav  or  uisToav. 


147 


in  tho  ignorant  state  of  the  people,  that  party  who  could  work  or  invoke 
the  most  miraelos  wan  sure  to  be  the  ittoat  |H>pular.  On  one  of  iheM 
occaHJontt  a  voice  that  aeeined  to  issue  from  the  great  crucifix  which 
adoriuid  the  place  of  meeting,  proclaimed  that  ho  who  up|x)S(;d  the  catab* 
lishinent  of  the  nionka  opposed  tho  will  of  Heaven ;  on  another  occasion 
the  floor  of  the  hall  fell  in,  killing  and  iiiaimiiiff  a  great  number  of  pttrsons, 
but  th:it  portion  which  aupportedthe  chair  of  Dunstan  remained  Arm  ;  and 
on  another  occasion,  when  the  voles  of  tho  synod  were  so  unexpectedly 
against  him  that  he  was  unprovided  with  a  miracle  for  the  occasion,  Diin- 
itan  roHe,  and,  with  an  inimitably  grave  impudence,  assured  the  meeting 
that  he  h:fd  juHt  been  favoured  with  a  direct  revelation  from  Heaven  in 
favour  uf  the  mcmks.  So  utterly  stultified  was  the  KOiorul  mind,  and  the 
populace  received  this  impudent  fiilsehood  with  so  much  fervent  favour, 
that  the  party  hostile  to  the  monks  actually  dared  not  support  any  farther 
the  views  of'^the  question  upon  which  they  had  a  clear  and  acknowledged 
majority ! 

Edward's  reign  deserves  little  further  mention.  No  great  event,  good 
or  evil,  marked  it ;  he  was,  in  fact,  merely  in  a  slate  of  pupilage  during 
the  four  years  that  it  lasted.  Having  an  excellent  disposition,  it  ia  pro- 
bable that  had  he  lived  to  mature  years  he  would  have  shaken  off  the  be- 
numbing and  deluding  influence  of  the  monkish  party.  But  in  the  fourth 
year  of  his  reign,  and  while  he  was  yet  barely  nineteen  years  of  age,  he 
fell  a  victim  to  his  atrocious  step- mother's  cruelty  and  ambition.  Not- 
withstanding the  hostility  she  had  evinced  towards  him  at  the  death  of 
his  father,  young  Edward's  mild  temper  had  caused  him  to  show  her  that 
respect  and  attention  which  she  was  very  far  indeed  from  deserving.  She 
resided  at  Corfe  castle,  in  Dorsetshire  ;  and  as  the  young  prince  was  one 
day  hunting  in  that  neighbourhood,  he  rode  away  from  his  company,  and, 
wholly  unattended,  paid  her  a  visit.  She  received  him  with  a  treacher- 
ous appearance  of  kindness,  but  just  as  he  had  mounted  his  horse  to  de- 
part, a  ruflTiaa  in  her  employment  stabbed  him  in  the  back.  The  wound 
did  not  prove  instantly  mortal,  but  as  he  fainted  from  loss  of  blood  ere  he 
could  disengage  his  feet  from  the  stirrups,  his  frightened  horse  galloped 
onward  with  him,  and  he  was  bruised  to  death.  His  servants  having 
traced  him,  recovered  his  body,  which  they  privately  interred  at  Wareham. 

By  this  surpassing  crime  of  his  vile  mother,  who  vainly,  even  in  that 
superstitious  age,  endeavoured  to  recover  the  public  favour,  and  expiate 
her  crime  in  public  opinion,  by  ostentatious  penances  and  by  lavishing 
money  upon  monasteries,  Ethclred,  son  of  Edgar  and  Elfrida,  succeeded 
to  the  throne. 

The  Danes,  who  had  be  a  kept  in  awe  by  the  vigour  of  Edgar,  and 
who,  moreover,  had  foiiml  ;tinple  employment  in  conquering  and  planting 
settlements  on  the  northern  .-oust  of  France,  a  resource  which  their  num- 
bers had  exhausted,  were  ewcouraged  by  the  minority  of  Ethelred  to  turn 
their  attention  once  nwre  towards  England,  where  they  felt  secure  of  re- 
ceiving eiicourugeiueiit  and  aid  from  the  men  of  their  own  race,  who, 
though  long  settled  among  the  English,  were  by  no  means  fully  incorpo- 
rated with  them.  In  the  year  981  the  Danes  accordingly  made  an  experi- 
mental descent  upon  Southampton,  in  seven  vessels ;  and  as  they  took 
the  people  completely  by  surprise,  they  secured  considerable  plunder, 
with  which  they  escaped  uninjured  and  almost  unopposed.  This  conduct 
thev  repeated  in  967,  with  similar  success,  on  the  western    .jast. 

t'his  su(;cess  of  these  two  experiments  convinced  the  marauders  that 
the  vigour  of  an  Edgar  was  no  longer  to  be  dreaded  in  England,  and  they 
therefore  prepared  to  make  a  descent  upon  a  larger  scale  and  with  more 
extensive  views.  They  landed  in  great  numbers  on  the  coast  of  Essex, 
and  defeated  and  slew,  at  Maldon,  Brithric,  the  duke  of  that  county,  who 
bravely  attempted  to  lesist  them  with  his  local  force ;  and  after  their  vic« 


MHM 


146 


THB  TEEA8URY  OF  HI3T0EY. 


tory  they  devastated  and  plundered  all  the  neighbouring  country.  So 
soon  and  so  easily  does  a  people  degenerate  when  neglected  by  its  rulers, 
that  Ethelred  and  his  nobles  could  see  no  better  means  of  ridding  them- 
selves of  these  fierce  pirates  than  that  of  bribing  them  to  depart.  They 
demanded  and  received,  as  the  price  of  their  departure,  an  enormous  sum. 
They  departed  accordingly,  but,  as  might  have  been  anticipated,  so  large 
a  sum  so  easily  earned  tempted  them  very  speedily  to  repeat  their  visit. 
By  this  time  a  fleet  had  been  prepared  at  London  fully  capable  of  resisting 
and  beating  off  the  invaders,  but  it  was  prevented  from  doing  the  service 
that  was  expected  from  it  by  the  treachery  of  Alfric  duke  of  Mercia.  H« 
had  formerly  been  banished  and  deprived  of  his  possessions  and  dignity, 
and  though  he  had  now  for  some  time  been  fully  restored,  tlie  affront 
rankled  in  his  mind,  and  he  conceived  the  unnatural  design  of  ensuring 
his  own  safety  and  importance  by  aiding  the  foreign  enemy  to  keep  his 
country  in  a  state  of  disorder  and  alarm.  He  was  entrusted  with  one 
squadron  of  a  fleet  with  which  it  was  intended  to  surround  and  destroy 
the  enemy  in  the  harbour  in  which  they  had  ventured  to  anchor,  and  he 
basely  gave  the  enemy  information  in  time  to  enable  them  to  avoid  the 
danger  by  putting  out  to  sea  again,  and  then  completed  his  infamous 
treachery  by  joining  them  with  his  whole  squadron.  The  behaviour  of 
the  king  on  this  occasion  was  equally  marked  by  barbarity  and  weakness. 
On  hearing  of  Alfric's  traitorous  conduct,  he  had  that  nobleman's  son 
AlTgar  seized,  and  caused  his  eyes  to  be  put  out ;  yet,  after  inflicting  this 
horrid  cruelty  upon  the  innocent  son,  he  so  far  succumbed  to  the  power 
and  influence  of  the  guilty  father,  as  actually  to  reinstate  him  in  his  office 
and  possessions. 

A.  D.  993. — The  experience  the  Danes  had  acquired  of  the  weakness  ol 
Ethelred  and  the  defenceless  condition  of  his  kingdom,  encouraged  them 
to  make  new  and  still  more  formidable  descents.  Sweyn,  king  of  Den- 
mark, and  Olave,  king  of  Norway,  sailed  up  the  Humber  with  an  immense 
fleet,  laying  waste  and  plundering  in  every  direction.  Those  of  the  Danes, 
and  they  were  but  few,  who  refused  to  join  the  invaders,  were  plundered 
equally  with  the  English.  An  army  advanced  to  give  battle,  and  so  fierce 
was  the  contest  that  the  Danes  were  already  beginning  to  give  way,  when 
the  tide  of  fortune  was  suddenly  turned  against  the  English  by  the 
treachery  of  Frena,  Frithegist,  and  Godwin,  three  leaders,  who,  though  of 
Danish  descent,  were  entrusted  with  large  and  important  commands. 
These  men  withdrew  their  troops,  and  the  English  were  in  consequence 
defeated. 

The  invaders  now  entered  the  Thames  with  a  fleet  of  upwards  of  ninety 
ships  and  laid  siege  to  London.  Alarmed  for  their  large  wealth,  the  citi- 
zens defended  themselves  with  a  stoutness  strongly  contrasted  with  the 
pusillanimity  which  had  been  displayed  by  both  the  king  and  the  nobles, 
and  their  resistance  was  so  obstinate  that  the  pirates  at  length  gave  up 
the  attempt  in  despair.  But  though  they  abandoned  the  metropolis  of  the 
kingdom,  they  did  not  therefore  give  up  their  determination  to  plunder. 
Spreading  their  bands  over  Essex,  Sussex,  and  Hants,  they  not  only  pro- 
cured large  booty  there,  but  also  a  suflicient  number  of  horses  to  enable 
them  to  extend  their  depredations  far  inland.  It  might  have  been  sup- 
posed that,  after  the  noble  example  set  by  the  traders  of  London,  the  king 
and  his  nobles  would  be  prevented  by  very  shame  from  ever  again  resort- 
ing to  the  paltry  and  impolitic  scheme  of  purchasing  the  absence  of  the 
invaders :  but  to  that  expedient  they  did  resort.  Messengers  were  sent 
to  offer  to  subsist  the  invaders  if  they  would  preserve  peace  while  they 
remaintd  in  the  kingdom,  and  to  pay  tribute  on  condition  of  their  taking 
an  early  departure.  The  Danes,  wily  as  they  were  hardy,  probably 
imagined  that  they  had  now  so  far  exhausted  the  kingdom  that  the  tribute 
offered  to  them  would  be  more  valuable  than  the  further  spoil  they  would 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


149 


be  likely  to  obtain,  and  they  readily  accepted  the  proposed  terms.  They 
took  up  their  abode  at  Southampton,  and  there  conducted  themselves  very 
peaceably.  Olave  catried  his  complaisance  so  far  as  to  pay  a  visit  to 
Ethelrcd,  at  Andover,  and  received  the  right  or  confirmation.  Many  rich 
girts  were  consequently  bestowed  upon  liim  by  the  king  and  the  prelates, 
and  the  sum  of  sixteen  thousand  pounds  having  been  paid  to  him  and 
Sweyn,  they  took  their  departure.  Oiave,  who  never  returned  to  England, 
was  so  great  a  Tavourite  with  the  churchmen  that  he  was  honoured  with  a 
place  among  the  saints  in  the  Roman  calendar. 

A.  D.  997. — The  repeated  proofs  Ethelred  had  given  of  his  willingness 
to  purchase  the  absence  of  pirates  rather  than  battle  against  them,  pro- 
duced, as  was  natural,  a  new  invasion.  A  large  fleet  of  the  Danes  this 
year  entered  the  Severn.  Wales  was  spoiled  for  miles,  and  thence  the 
pirates  proceeded  to  commit  simitar  atrocities  upon  the  unfortunate  people 
of  Cornwall  and  Devonshire.  Thence  the  marauders  went  first  to  Dor- 
setshire, then  to  (lants,  then  Kent,  where  the  inhabitants  opposed  them  at 
Rochester,  but  were  routed  with  terrible  slaughter,  and  the  whole  of  their 
country  was  plundered  and  desolated.  Many  attempts  were  made  by  the 
braver  and  wiser  among  the  English  to  concert  such  a  united  defence  as 
would  prevail  against  the  enemy ;  but  the  weakness  of  the  king  and  the 
nobles  paralyzed  the  best  efforts  of  the  nobler  spirits,  and  once  more  the 
old  expedient  was  resorted  to,  and  twenty-four  thousand  pounds  were 
now  paid  as  the  price  of  the  absence  of  the  Danes,  whose  demands  very 
naturally  became  higher  with  their  increased  experience  of  the  certainty 
of  their  being  complied  with.  It  was  probably  with  some  vague  hope  that 
even  an  indirect  connection  with  these  formidable  northmen  would  cause 
them  to  respect  his  dominions,  that  Ethelred,  having  lust  his  first  wife, 
this  year  espoused  Emma,  sister  of  Richard,  the  second  duke  of  Normandy. 

Long  as  the  domestic  Dan«is  had  now  been  established  in  England,  they 
were  still  both  a  distinct  and  a  detested  race.  The  old  English  historians 
accuse  them  of  effeminacy  and  luxuriousness,  but  as  they  instance  as  evi- 
dence of  the  truth  of  these  charges,  that  the  Danes  combed  their  hair  daily 
and  bathed  once  a  week,  we  may  fairly  enough  acquit  the  Danes  of  aU 
guilt  on  this  head,  and  conclude  that,  rude  and  bad  as  the  race  was  in 
many  respects,  they  assuredly  were  superior  to  the  English  of  that  day 
in  the  very  important  matter  of  personal  decency.  But  a  dislike  to  men  s 
personal  habits,  be  it  well  or  ill  founded,  is  a  very  powerful  motive  in  the 
increasing  and  perpetuation  of  hatred  founded  upon  other  feelings,  and 
that  hatred  the  Englisli  deeply  felt  for  the  Danes  on  account  of  the  origin 
of  their  settlement  among  them,  their  great  propensity  to  gallantry,  and 
their  great  skill  in  making  themselves  agreeable  to  the  English  women ; 
above  all,  on  account  of  their  constant  and  shamefully  faithless  habit  of 
Joining  their  invading  fellow-countrymen  in  their  violence  and  rapine. 
Ethelred,  like  all  weak  and  cowardly  persons,  was  strongly  inclined  towards 
both  cruelty  and  treachery,  and  the  general  detestation  in  which  the  Danes 
were  held  by  the  English  encouraged  him  to  plan  the  universal  massaayre 
of  the  former.  Orders  were  secretly  dispatched  to  all  the  governors  and 
chief  mnn  of  the  country  to  make  all  preparations  for  this  detestable 
cruelty,  for  which  the  same  day,  November  the  13th,  being  St.  Brithric's 
day,  a  festival  among  the  Danes,  was  appointed  for  the  wh|le  kingdom. 

The  wicked  and  dastardly  orders  of  the  king  were  but  too  agreeable  to 
the  temper  of  the  populace.  On  the  same  day,  and  at  the  same  hour,  the 
unsuspecting  Danes  were  attacked.  Youth  and  age,  without  distinction 
of  sex,  were  alike  attacked  with  indiscriminate  fury,  and  they  were  the 
most  fortunate  among  the  unhappy  Danes  whose  butchers  were  so  eager 
to  destroy  them  that  they  omitted  first  to  subject  them  to  tortures  terrible 
even  to  read  of.  So  unsparing  was  the  rage  against  them,  and  so  blind 
to  consequences  were  both  high  and  low  among  the  infuriated  and  tern- 


ISO 


THK  TRRA8URY  OF  HISTOHY. 


porarily  triumphant  English,  that  the  princess  Giinilda,  sister  of  the  re- 
doubtable king  of  Denmark,  was  put  to  death,  after  seeing  her  liusband 
and  children  slaughtered,  though  her  personal  character  was  excellent  and 
though  she  had  long  been  a  Christian.    As  she  expired,  this  unfortunate 
lady,  whose  murder  was  chiefly  caused  by  the  advice  of  Edric,  earl  of 
Wilts  (which  advice  was  shamefully  acted  upon  by  the  king,  who  ordered 
her  death),  foretold  that  her  death  would  speedily  be  avenged  by  the  total 
ruin  of  England.     In  truth,  it  needel  not  the  spirit  of  prophecy  to  foretel 
that  such  wholesale  slaughter  could  scarcely  fail  to  call  down  defeat  and 
ruin  upon  a  people  who  had  so  often  been  glad  to  purchase  the  absence  of 
the  Danes  when  no  such  cowardly  atrocity  had  excited  them  to  invasion, 
or  justified  them  in  unsparing  violence.     The  prophecy,  however,  was 
speedily  and  fearfully  realized.     Though  the  persuasions  and  example  of 
oiave,  and  his  positive  determination  to  fulfil  his  part  of  the  agreement 
made  with  Ethelred  had  hitherto  saved  England  from  any  repetition  of 
the  annoyances  of  Sweyn,  king  of   Denmark,  that  fierce  and  warlike 
monarch  had  constantly  felt  a  strong  desire  to  renew  his  attack  upon  a 
people  who  were  so  much  more  ready  to  defend  their  country  with  gold 
than  with  steel.     The  cowardly  cruelty  of  Ethelred  now  furnished  the 
Dane  with  a  most  righteous  pretext  for  invasion,  and  he  hastened  to  avail 
himself  of  it.     He  appeared  off  the  western  crast  with  a  strong  fleet,  and 
Exeter  was  delivered  up  to  him  without  resistance ;  some  historians  say 
by  the  incapacity  or  neglect  of  Karl  Hugh,  while  others  say  by  his  treachery. 
This  last  opinion  has  some  support  in  the  fact  t^at  Earl  Hugh  was  him- 
ielf  a  Norman,  and,  being  only  connected  with  England  by  the  office  to 
which  he  had  but  recently  been  appointed  through  the  interest  of  the 
queen,  he  might,  without  great  breach  of  charity,  be  suspected  of  leaning 
rather  to  the  piratical  race  with  which  he  was  connected  by  birth.  t\vd>\  t., 
the  English.     From  Exeter,  as  their  head  quarters,  the  Danes  traversed 
the  country  in  all  directions,  committing  all  the  worst  atrocities  of  a  wai 
of  retaliation,  and  loudly  proclaiming  their  determination  to  have  ample 
revenge  for  the  slaughter  of  their  fellow^-countrymen.     Aware,  immedi> 
ately  after  they  had  perpetrated  their  inhuman  crime  upon  the  domestic 
Danes,  how  little  mercy  they  could  expect  at  the  hands  of  the  country- 
men of  their  murdered  victims,  the  English  had  made  more  than  usual 
preparations  for  resistance.     A  large  and  well  furnished  army  was  ready 
to  march  against  the  invaders,  but  the  command  of  it  was  committed  to 
that  duke  of  Mercia  vi'hose  former  treason  has  been  mentioned,  and  he, 
pretending  illness,  contrived  to  delay  the  march  of  the  troops  until  they 
were  thoroughly  dispirited  and  the  Danes  had  done  enormous  mischief. 
He  died  shortly  after  and  was  succeeded  by  Edric,  who,  though  son-in- 
law  to  the  king,  proved  just  as  treacherous  as  his  predecessor.     Tiie  con- 
sequence was,  that  the  country  was  ravaged  to  such  an  extent  that  the 
horrors  of  famine  were  soon  added  to  the  horrors  of  war,  and  the  degraded 
English  once  more  sued  for  peace,  and  obtained  it  at  the  price  of  thirty 
thousand  pounds. 

A.D.  1007. — Clearly  perceiving  that  they  might  now  reckon  upon  Danish 
invasion  as  a  periodical  plague,  the  English  government  and  people  en- 
deavoured to  prepare  for  their  future  defence.  Troops  were  raised  and  dis- 
ciplined, and  a  navy  of  nearly  eight  hundred  ships  was  prepared.  But  a 
quarrel  which  arose  between  Edric,  duke  of  Mercia,  and  Wolfnoth,  gov- 
ernor of  Sussex,  caused  the  latter  to  desert  to  the  Danes  with  twenty 
vessels.  He  was  pursued  by  Edric's  brother  Brightric,  with  a  fleet  ol 
eighty  vessels;  but  this  fleet,  being  driven  ashore  by  a  tempest,  was  at 
tacked  and  burned  by  Wolfnoth.  A  hundred  vessels  were  thus  lost  to  the 
English,  dissensions  spread  among  other  leaJing  men,  and  the  fleet  whi(Oi, 
if  concentrated  and  ably  directed,  might  Iiave  given  safety  to  the  nation, 
was  dispersed  into  various  ports  and  rendered  virtually  useless 


THB  TRBAeURY  OF  HI8TOU.Y. 


161 


The  Danes  did  not  fail  to  take  advantage  of  the  dissensions  and  im- 
benility  uf  the  English,  and  for  some  time  Irom  this  period  the  history  of 
EngliUid  presents  us  with  nothing  but  one  melancholy  monotony  of  uo- 
spariiig  cruelty  on  the  part  of  the  mvaders,  and  unmitigated  and  hopeless 
suffenng  on  the  part  of  the  invaded.  Repeated  attempts  were  made  to 
restore  something  like  unanimity  to  the  English  councils,  and  to  form  a 
settled  and  unanimous  plan  of  resistance ;  but  all  was  still  dissension, 
and  when  the  utmost  wretchedness  at  length  made  the  disputants  agree, 
th:y  agreed  only  in  resorting  to  the  old,  base,  and  most  impolitic  plan  of 
pur'  basing  the  absence  of  their  persecutors.  How  impolitic  this  plan  was 
common  sense  ought  to  have  told  the  English,  even  had  they  not  p<)ssessed 
the  additional  evidence  of  the  fact,  that  at  each  new  invasion  the  Danes  in- 
creased their  demand.  From  ten  thousand  pounds,  which  had  purchased 
their  first  absence,  they  had  successively  raised  their  demands  to  thirty 
thousand,  and  now,  when  their  rapine  had  more  than  ever  impoverished 
the  country,  they  demanded,  and,  to  the  shame  of  the  English  people,  or 
lather  of  the  king  and  the  nobles,  were  paid  the  monstrous  sum  of  eight- 
and-forty  thousand  pounds ! 

This  imtnense  sum  was  even  worse  expended  than  the  former  sums 
had  been ;  for  this  time  the  Danes  took  the  money,  but  did  not  depart. 
On  the  contrary,  they  continued  their  desultory  plundering,  and  at  the 
same  time  made  formal  demands  upon  certain  districts  for  large  and  speci- 
fied sums.  Thus,  in  the  county  of  Kent  they  levied  the  sum  of  eight 
thousand  pounds ;  and  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  venturing  to  resist 
this  most  iniquitous  demand,  was  coolly  murdered.  The  general  state  of 
the  kingdom  and  the  butcher>'  of  a  personage  so  eminent  alarmed  the 
king  for  his  personal  safety ;  the  more  especially,  as  many  of  his  chief 
nobility,  having  lost  all  confidence  in  his  power  to  redeem  his  kingdom 
from  ruin,  were  daily  transferring  their  allegiance  to  Sweyn.  Having  first 
sent  ov"!  >'is  queen  and  her  two  children  to  her  brother,  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
mandy, •  ed  himself  took  an  opportunity  to  escape  thither,  and  thus 
the  kir  ni'-n   /as  virtually  delivered  over  to  Sweyn  and  his  Danes. 

A.D.  ■  .^  1. — Sweyn,  under  all  the  circumstances,  would  have  found  little 
difficulty  in  causing  himself  to  be  crowned  king  of  England;  nay, it  may 
even  be  doubted  if  either  nobles  or  people  would  have  been  greatly  dis- 
pleased at  receiving  a  warlike  sovereign  instead  of  the  fugitive  Ethelredt 
to  whom  tlioy  had  long  been  accustomed  to  apply  the  scornful  epithet  of 
the  Unreal  But  while  Sweyn  was  preparing  to  take  advantage  of  the 
magnificent  opportunity  that  offered  itself  to  him,  he  was  suddenly  seized 
with  a  mortal  illness,  and  expired  at  Gainsborough,  in  Lincolnshire,  about 
six  weeks  after  the  flight  of  Ethelred  from  the  kingdom. 

This  circumstance  gave  the  weak  Ethelred  yet  one  more  chance  of  re- 
deeming his  kingly  character.  The  great  men  of  his  king^dom,  when 
they  informed  him  of  the  event  which,  so  auspiciously  for  him,  had  occur- 
red, invited  him  to  return.  They  at  the  same  time  plainly,  though  in  a 
friendly  and  respectful  tone,  intimated  their  hope  that  he  would  profit  by 
his  experience,  to  avoid  for  the  future  those  errors  which  had  produced  so 
much  evil  to  both  himself  and  his  people. 

Ethelred  gladly  availed  himself  of  the  invitation  to  resume  his  throne, 
but  the  advice  that  had  accompanied  that  invitation  he  wholly  disregarded. 
Among  the  most  glaring  proofs  which  he  gave  of  his  continued  incapacity 
to  rule  wisely,  he  reinstated  his  treacherous  son-in-law,  Edric,  in  all  his 
former  influence.  This  power  Edric  most  shamefully  abused :  in  proof  of 
this  we  need  give  hut  a  single  instance  of  his  misconduct.  Two  Mercian 
nobles,  by  name  Morcar  and  Sigebert,  had  unfortunately  given  some  of- 
fence to  Edric,  who  forthwith  endeavoured  to  persuade  the  king  that  they 
were  hostile  to  his  rule ;  and  the  equally  cruel  and  weak  monarch  not  only 
onnived  at  their  murder  by  Edric,  but  gave  to  that  crime  %  quasi  legal 


152 


th:^  treasury  of  history 


■anction  by  confiscating  the  property  of  the  victims  as  though  they  had 
been  convicted  of  treason,  and  he  confined  SigeberJc  widow  in  a  convent. 
Here  she  was  accidentally  seen  by  the  king's  son,  Edmund,  who  not  only 
contrived  her  escape  from  the  convent,  but  immediately  married  her. 

A.D.  1014.— Elhelred  was  not  allowed  to  enjoy  his  recovered  throne  in 
peace.    Canute,  the  son  of  Sweyn,  was  to  the  full  as  warlike  as  his  fa- 
mous father,  and  set  up  his  claims  to  the  throne  with  as  much  grave  earn- 
estness as  though  his  father  had  filled  it  in  right  cf  a  long  ancestral  pos* 
session.     He  committed  dreadful  havoc  in  Kent,  Dorset,  Wilts,  and  Som 
erset ;  and,  not  contented  with  slaughter  in  and  plunder  after  the  battle, 
he  shockingly  mutilated  his  prisoners,  and  then  gave  them  their  liberty,  in 
order  that  their  wretched  plight  might  strike  terror  into  their  fellow-coun- 
trymen.   So  mu      progress  did  Canute  make,  that  Etheired  would,  in  all 
Erobability,  have  .'cen  a  second  time  driven  from  his  throne  and  kingdom, 
ut  for  the  courage  and  energy  of  his  son  Edmund.    The  treacherous 
Edric  deserted  to  the  Danes  with  forty  ships,  after  having  dispersed  a 
great  part  of  the  English  army,  and  even  made  an  attempt  at  seizing  upon 
the  person  of  the  brave  prince.     Undismayed  by  so  many  difliculties, 
which  were  much  increased  by  the  general  contempt  and  distrust  felt  for 
the  king,  Edmund,  by  great  exertions,  got  together  a  large  force,  and  pre- 
pared to  give  battle  to  the  enemy.     But  the  English  had  been  accustomed 
to  see  their  kings  in  the  vanguard  of  the  battle ;  and,  though  Edmund 
was  universally  popular,  the  soldiers  1''  idly  demanded  that  his  father 
should  head  them  in  person.     Etheired,  however,  who  suspected  his  own 
subjects  fully  as  much  as  he  feared  the  enemy,  not  merely  refused  to  do 
this,  on  the  plea  of  illness,  but  so  completely  left  his  heroic  son  without 
supplies,  that  the  prince  was  obliged  to  allow  the  northern  part  of  the 
kingdom  to  fall  into  subjection  to  the  Danes.    Still  determined  not  to  sub- 
mit, Edmund  marched  his  discouraged  and  weakened  army  to  London,  to 
make  a  final  stand  against  the  invaders  ;  but  on  his  arrival  he  found  the 
metropolis  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  alarm  and  confusion,  on  account  of 
the  death  of  ths  king. 

A.D.  1015. — Etheired  the  Unready  had  reigned  thirty-five  years,  and  his 
incapacity  had  reduced  the  country  to  a  state  which  would  nave  been  suf- 
ficiently pitiable  and  diflScult,  even  had  not  the  fierce  and  warlike  Danes 
been  swarming  in  its  northern  provinces.  The  people  were  dispirited  and 
disaflfected,  and  the  nobles  were  far  less  intent  upon  repelling  the  common 
enemy  than  upon  pursuing  their  own  mischievous  and  petty  quarrels;  and 
Edmund  had  only  too  much  reason  to  fear  that  the  example  of  his  treach- 
erous brother-in-law  would  be  followed  by  other  nobles.  Rightly  judging 
that  occupation  was  the  most  eflfectual  remedy  for  the  discouragement  ot 
the  people,  and  the  best  safeguard  against  the  treachery  of  the  nobles, 
Edmuiicf  lost  no  time  in  attacking  the  enemy.  At  Gillingham  he  defeated 
a  detachment  of  them,  and  then  marched  against  Canute  ni  person.  The 
hostile  armies  met  near  Scoerton,  in  Gloucestershire,  and  in  the  early 
part  of  the  battle  the  English  prince  had  so  much  success  that  it  seemed 

firobable  he  would  have  a  decisive  and  crowning  victory.  But  that  ca- 
amity  of  his  country,  Edric,  having  slain  Osmar,  who  very  much  resem- 
bled the  king  in  countenance,  had  ms  head  fixed  upon  the  point  of  a  spear 
and  displayed  to  the  English.  A  panic  immediately  spread  through  the 
hitherto  victorious  army.  Tt  was  in  vain  that  Edmund,  heedless  of  the 
arrows  that  flew  around  him,  rode  bareheaded  among  his  troops  to  assure 
them  of  his  safety.  "Save  himself  who  can,"  was  the  universal  cry; 
an'l  though  Edmund  at  length  contrived  to  lead  his  troops  from  the  field 
in  comparatively  good  order,  the  golden  moment  for  securing  triumph 
nad  passed.  Edmund  was  subsequently  defeated  with  great  loss,  at  As- 
sington,  in  Essex,  but  with  exemplary  activity  again  raised  an  army  and 
prepared  to  make  one  more  desperate  effort  to  expel  the  enemy.    But  tha 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


153 


leading  men  on  both  sides  were  by  this  time  wearied  with  »irife  and  car- 
nage, and  a  negotiation  ensued  which  led  to  a  division  of  the  kingdom, 
Canute  taking  the  northern  portion  and  Edmund  the  southern. 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  the  mfamoua  Edric  would  have  been 
•atisfied  with  having  thus  mainly  aided  in  despoiling  his  !.  rave  but  unfor- 
tunate brother  in-law  of  a  moiety  of  his  kingdom.  But  as  though  the  very 
existence  of  a  man  so  contrary  and  so  superior  to  himself  in  character 
were  intolerable  to  him,  this  arrangement  had  scarcely  been  made  a  monih 
when  he  suborned  two  of  the  king's  chamberlains,  who  murdered  their  un- 
fortunate master  at  Oxford. 

A.D.  1017.  It  does  not  cit-aily  appear  that  Canute  was  actually  privy 
to  this  crime,  though  his  previous  conduct  and  the  fact  that  he  was  the 
person  to  be  benefited  by  the  death  of  Kdmund  may  justify  us  in  suspect- 
ing him.  And  this  suspicion  is  still  further  justified  by  his  immediately 
seizing  upon  Edmund's  share  of  the  kingdom,  though  that  prince  had  left 
two  sons,  Edwin  and  Edward.  It  is  true  that  those  princes  were  very 
young,  but  the  most  that  Canute  ought  to  have  assumed  on  that  account 
was  the  guardianship  of  the  children  and  the  protectorate  of  their  heritage. 
Indeed,  some  writers  represent  that  it  was  in  the  character  of  guardian 
that  Canute  affected  to  act ;  but  a  sufficient  answer  to  that  pretence  is  to 
be  found  in  the  fact  that  Canute  reigned  as  sole  king,  and  left  the  kingdom 
to  his  son. 

Sanguinary  and  grasping  as  his  whole  former  course  had  been,  this  able, 
though  unprincipled  prince  was  too  anxious  for  the  prosperity  of  the  king- 
dom of  which  he  had  possessed  himself,  not  to  take  all  possible  precaution 
t?  avert  opposition.  He  called  a  council,  at  which  he  caused  witnesses 
to  affirm  that  it  had  been  agreed,  at  the  treaty  of  Gloucester,  that  he  should 
succeed  Edmund  in  the  southern  portion  of  the  kingdom ;  or,  as  the  writers 
to  whom  we  have  alluded  affirm,  that  he  should  have  the  guardianship  and 
protectorate.  This  evidence,  and,  perhaps,  terror  lest  the  well  known 
fierceness  of  Canute  should  again  desolate  the  kingd'^m,  determined  the 
council  in  his  favour,  and  the  usurper  peaceably  mounted  the  throne,  while 
the  despoiled  princes  were  sent  to  Sweden.  Not  content  with  thus  seiz- 
ing their  dominion  and  exiling  them,  Canute  charged  the  king  of  Sweden 
to  put  them  to  death;  but  that  king,  more  generous  than  his  ally,  sent 
them  in  safety  to  the  court  of  Hungary,  where  they  were  educated.  Ed- 
win, the  elder  of  the  princes,  married  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  Hunga- 
ry ;  and  Edward,  the  younger.,  married  Agatha,  sister-in-law  of  the  same 
monarch,  and  had  by  her  Edgar  Atheling,  Margaret,  subsequently  queen 
of  Scotland,  and  Christina,  who  took  the  veil. 

The  experience  which  Canute  had  of  the  treachery  of  the  English  no- 
bility of  this  period  made  him,  as  a  matter  of  policy,  show  the  most  un- 
bounded  liberality  to  them  at  the  commencement  of  his  undivided  reign. 
To  Thurkill  he  gave  the  dukedom  of  East  Anglia,  to  Yric  that  of  Northum- 
berland, and  to  Edric  that  of  Mercia,  confining  his  own  direct  and  personal 
rule  to  Wessex.  But  this  seeming  favour  was  only  the  crouching  of  the 
Mger  ere  he  springs.  When  he  found  himself  firmly  fixed  upon  his  throne, 
and  from  his  judicious  as  well  as  firm  conduct  becoming  every  day  more 
popular  among  his  subjects,  he  found  a  pretext  to  deprive  Thurkill  and 
Yric  of  their  dukedoms,  and  to  send  them  into  exile.  It  would  seem  that 
even  while  he  had  profited  by  the  treason  of  the  English  nobility,  he  had 
manliness  enough  to  detest  the  traitors ;  for,  besides  expelling  the  dukes 
of  East  Anglia  and  Northumberland,  he  put  several  Oiher  noble  traitors  to 
death,  and  among  them  that  worst  of  all  traitors,  Edric,  whose  body  he 
had  cast  into  the  Thames. 

Though  Canute  showed  much  disposition  to  conciliate  the  favour  of  his 
subjects,  he  was  at  the  commencement  of  his  reign  obliged,  by  the  state 
of  the  kingdom,  to  tax  them  very  heavily.    From  the  nation  at  large  hfl 


164 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HlflTORY. 


at  one  demand  obtained  the  vast  sum  of  seventy-two  thousand  poundi,  and 
from  the  city  of  London  a  separate  further  sum  of  eleven  IhouNand.  But 
though  it  was  evident  that  much  of  this  money  was  devoted  to  the  reward 
of  his  own  countrymen,  and  though  in  the  heavy  sum  levied  upon  London 
there  clearly  appeared  something  of  angrv  recollection  of  the  courage  the 
Londoners  had  shown  in  opposing  him,  the  people  were  by  this  lime  so 
wearied  with  war,  that  they  imputed  his  demands  to  necessity,  and  prob- 
ably  thought  money  better  paid  for  the  support  of  a  Danish  king  than  for 
the  temporary  absence  of  an  ever-returning  Danish  enemy. 

To  say  the  trull),  usurper  though  Canute  was,  he  had  no  aooner  made 
his  rule  secure,  than  he  made  great  efforts  to  render  it  not  merely  toler- 
able but  valuable.  He  disbanded  and  sent  home  a  great  number  of  his 
Danish  mercenaries;  he  made  not  the  slightest  difference  between  Danish 
and  Knglish  subJe'HS  i>'  the  execution  of  the  laws  guarding  property  and 
life,  and,  still  f-  jr  '  engage  the  affections  of  the  Knglisn,  he  formally, 
in  an  assemblv     ■  *'  >  siates,  restored  the  Saxon  customs. 

In  ordc:  also  to  nigratiate  himself  with  the  Enslish,  as  well  as  to  pro- 
pitiate the  powerful  duke  of  Normandy,  who  had  shown  a  strong  dispo- 
sition to  disturb  him  in  his  usurped  power,  he  married  that  prince's  sister, 
Emma,  widow  of  Kthelred.  By  dint  of  this  conciliatory  policy,  he  so  far 
succeeded  in  gaining  the  affections  of  the  Knglish,  that  he  at  length  ven- 
tured to  sail  to  Denmark,  which  was  attacked  by  his  late  ally,  the  king  of 
Sweden,  against  whom  he  felt  additional  anger  on  account  of  his  contu- 
macy in  refusing  to  put  the  exiled  Engli.sh  princes  to  death.  Ho  was  com- 
pletely victorious  in  this  expedition,  chiefly  owing  to  the  energy  and  valour 
of  the  afterwards  famous,  and  more  than  regally  powerful,  Earl  Godwin, 
to  whom,  in  reward  for  his  conduct  on  this  occasion,  he  gave  his  daughter 
in  marriage. 

In  1028  he  made  another  voyage,  and  expelled  Olaus,  king  of  Norway. 
Powerful  abroad  and  at  peace  at  home,  he  now  devoted  his  attention  to 
religion;  but  he  did  so  after  the  grossly  superstitious  fashion  of  the  ago. 
He  did  not  recal  the  exiled  princes,  or  make  restitution  of  any  of  the 
property  which  he  had  unjustly  acquired  either  in  Norway  or  in  England, 
but  he  built  churches  and  showered  gifts  upon  churchmen ;  showed  his 
sorrow  for  the  slaughter  of  which  he  still  retained  the  profit,  by  causing 
masses  to  be  said  for  the  souls  of  the  slaughtered,  and  compounded  for 
continuing  his  usurped  rule  of  England  by  obtaining  certain  privileges  for 
Englishmen  at  Rome,  to  which  city  he  made  an  ostentatious  pilgrimage. 

An  anecdote  is  told  of  Canute  when  at  the  very  height  of  his  glory  and 

Cower,  which  is  highly  characteristic  of  the  baseness  of  tHe  English  no- 
les  of  that  day,  and  which  at  the  same  time  shows  him  to  have  possessed 
a  certain  dry  humour  as  well  as  sound  good  sense.  It  seems  that  while 
walking  on  the  sea-shore  with  some  of  these  degenerate  and  unworthy 
nobles,  they  in  the  excess  of  their  flattery  attributed  omnipotence  to  him. 
Disgusted  by  their  fulsome  eulogy,  he  ordered  a  chair  to  be  placed  upon 
the  beach,  and  seating  himself  he  commanded  the  waves  to  approach  no 
nearer  to  him.  The  astonished  coui  ti.^r?  looked  on  with  a  feeling  of  con- 
tempt for  the  king's  credulity,  which  was  speedily  to  be  transferred  to 
their  own  baseness.  The  tido  surged  onward  and  onward  to  the  shore 
till  it  began  to  wet  his  feet ;  when  he  calmly  rose  and  rebuked  h's  fl^'lterers 
for  attributing  to  him  the  great  characteristic  of  the  Deity,  omnipotence. 

The  Scots  in  the  reign  of  Eihelred  had  been  taxed  one  shilling  a  hide 
on  their  fief  of  Cumberland,  (ot  Danegelt,  or  money  to  be  applied  to  the 
protection  of  the  kingdom  against  the  Danes.  The  Scots  refimed  to  pay 
It,  and  though  Etlielred  attempted  force,  he,  as  usual  with  hiin,  failed. 
Malcolm,  the  thane  of  Scotland  who  had  thus  failed  in  his  vassalage  to 
Ethelred,  on  the  ground  that  he  could  defend  himself  against  the  Danes, 
now  refused  to  do  homage  for  Cumberland  to  Canute,  on  the  ground  of 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


165 


that  kinsi  not  having  succeeded  to  the  throne  by  inheritance.  But  Canute 
speedily  hroujrht  him  to  his  senses;  at  the  first  appearance  or  the  Knglish 
army  Mnleolm  submitted.  This  was  Canute's  last  expedition:  he  died 
about  four  years  after,  in  the  year  1035. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    RB10i48   OP   HAROLD    AND    HARDIOANIIE. 

Canute  left  three  sons,  Sweyn  and  Harold  by  his  first  wife,  Allwcii, 
daujrhter  of  the  earl  of  Hampshire;  and  Hardicanute  by  his  second  wife, 
Emma,  the  widow  of  Eihclred. 

On  th",  marriage  of  Canute  and  Emma  the  former  had  formally  agrooil 
that  his  children  by  her  should  inherit  the  throne.  But  as  her  brother.  tiM 
duke  of  Normandy,  died  before  Canute,  the  latter  thought  fit  to  depart  from 
this  agreement,  and  to  leave  the  English  throne  to  Harold,  his  seond  son 
by  the  first  wife,  rather  than  entrust  it,  with  its  abounding  difiicullies,  to 
the  weak  liands  of  so  young  a  prince  as  Hardicanute,  his  son  by  Emma. 
By  his  last  will,  therefore,  Canute  left  Norway  to  Sweyn,  his  eldest  son, 
and  England  to  Harold,  his  younger  son  by  the  first  marriage ;  and  to  Har- 
dicanute, his  son  by  Emma,  he  left  his  native  Denmark. 

The  difference  between  the  arrangement  made  by  the  king's  will  and 
that  which  was  agreed  upon  by  his  treaty  of  marriage  with  Emma,  placed 
the  kingdom  in  no  small  danger  of  a  long  and  sanguinary  civil  war.  Har- 
old, it  is  true,  had  the  express  last  will  of  his  father  in  his  favour,  and  be 
ing  upon  the  spot  at  the  moment  of  his  father's  death,  he  seized  upon  the 
royal  treasures,  and  thus  had  the  means  of  supporting  his  claim  either  by 
open  force  or  corruption.  But  Hardicanute,  though  in  Denmark,  was  the 
general  favourite  of  the  people,  and  of  not  a  few  of  the  nobility;  being 
looked  upon,  on  account  of  his  mother,  in  the  light  of  a  native  English 
prince.  To  his  father's  last  will,  upon  which  it  would  have  been  eaoy  to 
throw  suspicion,  as  though  weakness  of  mind  hud  been  superinduced  by 
bodily  suffering,  he  could  oppose  the  terms  of  the  grave  treaty  signed  by 
his  father  while  in  full  posser-jon  of  hi  ^  vigorous  mind,  and  in  full  pos- 
session, too,  of  power  to  re  ,  any  ariiclo  contrary  to  his  wish.  And, 
above  all,  Hardicanute  had  ..lO  favour  and  influence  of  the  potent  Earl 
Godwin.  With  such  elements  of  strife  in  existence,  it  was  extremely  for- 
tunate that  tne  most  powerful  men  on  both  sides  were  wisely  and  really 
anxious  to  avert  from  the  nation  the  sad  consequences  inseparable  from 
civil  strife.  Conferences  were  held  at  which  the  jarring  claims  of  the  two 
princes  were  discussed  with  unusual  candour  and  calmness,  and  it  was  at 
length  agreed  that,  as  each  had  a  plea  too  powerful  to  be  wholly  done  away 
with  by  his  competitor's  counterplea,  the  kingdom  should  once  more  be 
divided.  London  and  the  country  north  of  the  Thames  fell  to  the  lot  of 
Harold,  the  country  south  of  the  Thames  to  Hardicanute,  in  whose  name 
Emma  took  possession,  and  fi.Ked  her  residence  at  Winchester  till  he 
should  reach  England  to  govern  for  himself. 

The  two  young  princes,  Alfred  and  Edward,  the  sons  of  Emma  by 
Ethelred,  had  hitherto  remained  at  Normandy ;  but  finding  themselves, 
from  the  circumstances  of  that  court,  less  welcome  than  they  had  been, 
they  resolved  to  visit  their  mother,  whose  high  state  at  Winchester  prom- 
ised them  all  possible  protection  and  comfort,  and  they  accordingly  land- 
ed in  England  with  a  numerous  and  splendid  suite.  But  the  appearances 
by  which  they  had  been  allured  to  take  this  step  were  exceedingly  de- 
ceitful. Godwin,  whose  ambition  was  restless  and  insatiable,  had  been  skil- 
fully tampered  with  by  the  crafty  Harold,  who  promised  to  marry  the  earl's 
daughter.  The  idea  of  being  father-in-law  to  the  sole  king  of  England 
put  '\i\  end  to  all  Godwin's  moderate  notions,  and  to  all  the  favour  with 


IM 


THE  TREA8UEY  OF  HI8T0EY. 


which  he  had  previotisly  looked  upon  the  expedient  of  partitioning  tnr 
kingdom,  and  he  now  very  readily  and  zealously  promised  his  support  to 
Harold  in  his  design  to  add  his  brother's  possessions  to  his  own,  and  to 
cut  off  the  two  English  princes,  whose  coming  into  England  seemed  to 
indicate  a  determination  to  claim  as  heirs  of  Ethelred.  Alfred  was, 
with  many  hypocritical  compliments,  invited  to  court,  and  had  reached 
as  far  as  Guildford,  in  Surrey,  on  his  way  thither,  when  an  assemblage  of 
Godwin's  people  suddenly  fell  upon  the  retinue  of  the  unsuspecting 
prince,  and  put  upwards  of  six  hundred  of  them  to  the  sword.  Alfred 
was  himself  taken  prisoner— but  far  happier  had  been  his  fate  had  he 
died  in  the  battle.  His  inhuman  enemies  caused  his  eyes  to  be  put  out, 
and  he  was  then  thrust  into  the  monastery  of  Ely,  where  he  perished  in 
agony  and  misery.  His  brother  and  Queen  Emma  readily  Judged,  from 
this  horrible  affair,  that  they  would  be  the  next  victims,  and  they  imme- 
diately fled  from  the  country,  while  Harold  forthwith  added  the  southern 
to  the  northern  division  of  the  kingdom. 

Commencing  his  sole  reign  over  England  by  an  act  of  such  hypocrisy 
and  sanguinary  cruelty,  Harold  would  probably  have  left  fearful  traces  of 
his  reign  if  it  had  been  a  lengthened  one.  Happily,  however,  it  was  but 
short;  he  died  unregretted,  about  four  years  after  his  accession,  leaving 
no  trace  to  posterity  of  his  having  ever  lived,  save  the  one  dark  deed  of 
which  we  have  spoken.  He  was  remarkable  for  only  one  personal  qual- 
ity, his  exceeding  agility,  which,  according  to  the  almost  invariable  prac- 
tice  at  that  time  adopted  of  designating  persons  by  some  trait  of  char- 
acter or  physical  quality  for  which  they  were  remarkable,  procured  him 
the  appellation  of  Harold  Harefoot. 

A.  D.  1039. — Although  Hardicanute  had  been  deemed  by  his  father  too 
young  to  sway  the  English  sceptre,  he  himself  held  a  different  opinion, 
and  he  had  occupied  himself  in  his  kingdom  of  Norway  in  preparing  a 
force  with  which  to  invade  England  and  expel  his  brother.  Having  com- 
pleted his  preparations,  he  collected  a  fleet  under  the  pretence  of  visitin{r 
Queen  Emma,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  Flanders,  and  was  upon  the  point 
of  sailing  when  he  received  intelligence  of  Harold's  death,  upon  which 
he  immediately  sailed  for  London,  where  he  was  received  with  the  warm- 
est welcome.  He  commenced  his  reign,  however,  very  inauspiciously, 
by  the  mean  and  violent  act  of  having  Harold's  body  disinterred  and 
thrown  into  the  Thames.  Being  found  by  some  fishermen,  the  royal 
body  was  carried  to  London  and  again  committed  to  the  earth ;  but  Har- 
dicanute obtaining  information  of  what  had  occurred,  ordered  it  to  be 
again  disinterred  and  thrown  into  the  river.  It  was  once  more  found — 
but  this  time  it  was  buried  so  secretly  that  the  king  had  no  opportunity 
to  repeat  his  unnatural  conduct. 

The  part  which  Gcflwin  had  taken  in  the  murder  of  the  unfortunate 
Alfred,  led  Prince  Et, ,.  .ird,  who  was  invited  over  to  the  English  court  by 
Hardicanute,  to  accuse  him  of  that  crime,  and  to  demand  justice  at  the 
hands  of  the  king.  But  Godwin,  who  had  already  exerted  all  the  arts  of 
servility  to  conciliate  the  king,  made  him  a  present  of  a  magnificent  gal- 
ley, manned  with  sixteen  handsome  and  gorgeously  appointed  rowers, 
and  the  king  was  so  well  pleased  with  the  present,  that  he  merely  re- 
quired that  Godwin  should  swear  to  his  own  innocence,  which  that  per- 
sonage made  no  scruple  of  doing. 

The  reign  of  Hardicanute  was  short,  yet  his  violent  temper  and  cupid- 
ity causel  it  to  be  marked  by  a  revolt.  He  had  the  injustice  and  impru- 
dence to  renew  the  ta^  known  by  the  name  of  Danegelt,  and  charged  a 
very  heavy  sum  for  the  fleet  which  had  conveyed  him  from  Denmark. 
Complaints  and  resistance  arose  in  many  parts,  and  in  Worcester  th? 

[leople  not  only  refused  to  pay  the  tax,  but  actually  put  two  of  the  col- 
ectors  to  death.    Godwin,  with  Siward,  duke  of  Northumberland,  and 


THB  TaEASUBY  Or  HISTORY. 


167 


Leofric,  duke  of  Mercia,  were  immediately  seat  to  Worcester  with  a 
powerful  force,  and  with  orders  to  destroy  the  city.  They  actually  did 
•et  fire  to  it  and  gave  it  up  to  the  pillage  uf  the  soldiery,  but  they  saved 
the  lives  of  the  inhabitants  until  the  king's  anger  was  cooled,  and  h« 
gave  them  a  formal  pardon. 

Though  possessed  of  uncommon  bodily  strength,  Hardicanute  was  an 
iltra  Northman  in  the  habit  of  drinking  to  excess,  and  he  had  scarcely 
reigned  two  years,  when,  being  at  the  wedding-feast  of  a  Danish  uoble- 
tvan,  he  indulged  to  such  an  extent  that  he  died  on  the  spot. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  RKION  or  EDWARD  THE  CONFESSOR. 

A.  D.  1042. — SwEVN,  the  remaining  son  of  Canute,  was  in  Norway  wnen 
flardicanute  thus  suddenly  died,  and  as  there  was  no  one  whom  the 
Danes  could  set  up  in  his  place,  or  as  his  representative,  the  English  had 
a  most  favourable  opportunity  to  place  upon  the  throne  a  prince  of  their 
own  race.  The  real  English  heir  was  undoubtedly  the  elder  son  of  Ed- 
mund Ironside ;  but  that  prince  and  his  brother  were  in  Hungary,  and 
Edward,  the  son  of  Ethelred,  was  at  the  English  court,  and  the  necessity 
of  instant  action  to  prevent  the  Danes  from  recovering  from  their  sur- 
prise was  too  obvious  to  allow  the  English  to  affect  upon  this  occasion  a 
Smnctiliousness  upon  direct  succession  which  they  had  not  yet  learned  to 
ieel. 

There  was  but  one  apparent  obstacle  of  any  magnitude  to  the  peace- 
able succession  of  Edward,  and  that  was  the  feud  existing  between  him 
and  the  powerful  Earl  Godwin  relative  to  the  death  of  Prince  Alfred. 
So  powerful  was  Godwin  at  this  time,  that  his  opposition  would  have 
been  far  too  great  for  Edward's  means  to  surmount.  But  Godwin's 
power  lay  principally  in  Wessex,  which  was  almost  exclusively  inhabited 
by  English,  among  whom  Edward's  claim  was  very  popular;  and  as  Ed- 
ward's friends  induced  him  to  disavow  all  rancour  against  Godwin,  and 
even  to  consen*.  to  marry  his  daughter  Kdilha,  the  powerful  and  crafty 
earl  easily  consented  to  insure  his  daughter  a  throne.  He  forthwith 
summoned  a  council,  at  which  he  so  well  managed  matters,  that  while 
the  majority  were  English,  and  in  favour  of  Edward,  the  few  Danes  were 
fairly  silenced,  and  the  more  easily  because  whatever  warmth  might  be 
in  their  individual  feelings  towards  the  absent  Sweyn,  they  had  no  leader 
of  influence  to  unite  them,  or  of  eloquence  to  impress  and  support  their 
wishes. 

The  joy  of  the  English  on  finding  the  government  once  more  in  the 
hands  of  a  native  prince  was  excessive,  and  would  have  been  attended 
with  :^xtensive  ill  consequences  to  the  Danes,  had  not  the  king  very  equi- 
tably interposed  on  their  behalf.  As  it  was,  they  suffered  not  a  little  in 
property,  for  one  of  the  first  acts  of  the  king's  reign  was  to  revoke  all 
the  grants  of  his  Danish  predecessors,  who  liad  heaped  large  possessions 
upon  their  fellow-countrymen.  In  very  many  cases  it  may  be  assumed 
that  the  grants  had  been  made  unjustly;  but  the  English  made  no  dis- 
tinction between  cases,  and  heartily  rejoiced  to  see  the  resumption  of  the 
grants  reducing  many  of  the  hated  Danes  to  their  original  poverty.  To 
his  mother,  the  queen  Emma,  Edward  behaved  with  an  unpardonable 
severity ;  unpardonable,  even  admitting  that  he  was  right  when  he  af- 
firmed that,  having  been  so  much  better  treated  by  Canute  than  by  Ethel- 
red,  she  had  always  given  the  preference  to  Hardicanute,  and  held  her 
children  by  FJthelred  in  comparative  contempt  or  indifference.  He  not 
•»nlv  took  from  her  the  great  riches  which  she  had  heaped  up,  but  also 


IM 


THB  TREABUR\  OF  HI8T0EY. 


committed  her  to  close  custody  in  a  nunnery  at  Wincbester.  Some 
writers  have  \n»u>  ho  (at  as  to  my  that  he  accused  her  of  the  absurdly 
improbable  crime  of  havintf  connived  at  the  murder  ot  the  prince  Alfnd, 
and  that  Kmmi  purged  herself  of  this  guilt  by  the  marvellous  ordeal  of 
walking  barefooted  over  nine  red-hot  ploughshares;  but  the  monks,  to 
whom  Kmma  was  profusely  liberal,  needed  not  to  have  added  (Mv  to 
the  unforiunato  truth  of  the  king's  unnatural  treatment  of  his  twiee  wid- 

owed  mother.  .      ,     .        ,    ,      ,,     ..  , 

Apart  from  mere  feelings  of  nationality,  the  desire  of  the  Liiglish  to 
see  their  throne  filled  by  a  man  of  their  own  race  was,  no  doubt,  greatly 
excited  by  their  unwillingness  to  see  lands  and  lucrative  places  behlowed 
by  slrunger  kings  upon  stianger  courtiers.  In  this  respect,  however,  the 
accession  of  Edward  was  by  no  means  so  advantageous  to  the  Knglish  as 
they  had  anticipated.  Kdward  had  lived  so  much  in  Normandy  that  he 
had  become  almost  a  Frenchman  in  his  tastes  and  habits,  and  it  waE 
almost  exclusively  among  Frenchmen  that  he  had  formed  his  friendships, 
and  now  chose  his  favourites  and  confidants.  In  the  disposal  of  civil  and 
military  employments  the  king  acted  with  great  fairness  towards  the 
English,  but  as  the  Normans  who  thronged  his  courts  were  both  more 
polished  and  more  learned,  it  was  among  them  principally  that  he  di8> 
posed  of  the  ecclesiastical  dignities,  and  froiii  them  that  he  chiefly  select- 
ed his  advisers  and  intimate  companions.  The  favour  thus  sliown  to  the 
Normans  gave  great  disgust  to  the  English,  and  especially  to  the  power- 
ful Godwin,  who  was  too  greedy  of  power  and  patronage  to  look  with 
complacency  upon  any  rivals  in  the  king's  good  graces. 

He  was  the  more  offended  that  the  exclusive  favour  of  the  king  did  not 
fall  upon  him  and  his  family,  because,  independeni  of  the  king  having 
married  the  earl's  daughter  Editha,  the  mere  power  of  Godwin's  own 
family  was  so  princely  as  to  give  him  high  claims,  which  he  was  by  no 
means  inclined  to  underrate.  He  himself  was  earl  of  Wesse.x,  to  which 
extensive  government  the  counties  of  Kent  and  Sussex  were  added ; 
Sweyn,  his  eldest  son,  had  like  authority  over  the  counties  of  Hereford, 
Gloucester,  Oxford,  and  Berks  ;  while  Harold,  his  second  son,  was  duke 
of  East  Anglia,  with  "Essex  added  to  his  government. 

Possessed  of  such  extensive  power,  still  secretly  hating  Edward  on  ac 
count  of  their  open  feud  about  the  murder  of  Prince  Alfred,  and  consid- 
ering that  to  his  forbearance  alone,  or  principally,  Edward  owed  his 
throne,  Godwin,  who  was  naturally  haughty,  was  not  inclined  to  bear  the 
neglect  of  the  king  without  showing  his  sense  of  it,  and  his  ill-humour 
was  the  more  deep  and  the  more  bitterly  expressed,  because  his  daughter 
Editha  as  well  as  himself  suffered  from  the  king's  neglect.  The  king 
had  married  her,  indeed,  in  compliance  with  his  solemn  promise,  but  he 
would  never  live  with  her.  Mis  determination  on  this  head  was  rightly 
attributed  by  Godwin  to  his  having  transferred  to  the  daughter  a  part  of 
the  hatred  he  entertained  for  the  lather,  though  the  monks,  with  their 
usual  ingenuity  in  finding  piety  where  no  one  else  would  think  of  look- 
ing for  it,  attribute  this  conduct  to  his  religious  feeling;  and  to  this  con- 
duct it  is  that  he  chiefly  owed  the  being  honoured  by  the  monks  with  the 
respectable  surname  of  The  Confessor. 

A.D.  1048. — Entertaining  strong  feelings  of  both  disappointment  and  dis- 
content, it  was  not  likely  that  a  nobleman  of  Godwin's  great  power  and 
great  ill-temper  too,  would  fail  to  find  some  pretext  upon  which  to  break 
out  into  open  quarrel.  Politic  as  he  was  ill  tempered,  Godwin  seized  upon 
the  favouritism  of  the  king  towards  the  Normans  as  a  cause  of  quarrel 
upon  which  he  was  sure  to  have  the  sympathy  of  the  English,  who  were 
to  the  full  as  much  prejudiced  as  himself  against  the  foreigners. 

While  Godwin  was  thus  anxious  to  quarrel  with  the  king  whom  he  had 
done  so  much  to  put  upon  the  throne,  and  only  waiting  for  the  occurrence 


THR  TRKAflURY  OK  III8TORY. 


lb 


01  an  occanion  sufncicntly  planaibln  to  hide  hin  meaner  ami  more  entirely 
personal  motived,  it  chAnced  that  Knstncc,  count  or  Uoiiioyne,  paaned 
throu<Th  Dover  on  his  way  hack  to  his  own  country  after  a  visit  paid  to  the 
En(;hsh  court.  An  attendant  upon  the  rouiit  got  into  a  dispute  with  a  mua 
nt  whose  house  he  was  quartered  and  wounded  him  ;  the  neighbours  in- 
terfered, and  the  count's  attend-.nt  was  slain ;  a  general  bailie  took  place 
between  the  count's  suite  and  the  townspeople,  and  the  former  got  so  much 
the  worst  of  the  affray,  that  the  count  himself  had  some  difTiculty  in  sav 
ing  his  life  by  flight.  The  king  was  not  mtrely  angry,  but  felt  scandal- 
ized  that  foreigners  who  had  just  partaken  of  liis  hospitality  should  be  thus 
roughly  used  by  his  subjects,  and  he  ordered  ()odwin— to  whom,  us  wo 
have  said,  the  government  of  Kent  belonged — to  make  inquiry  into  the  af- 
fair, and  to  punish  the  guilty.  But  (Jodwin,  who  was  delighted  at  an  oc- 
currence which  furnished  him  with  a  pretext  at  once  plausible  and  popular 
for  quarrelling  with  his  sovereign  and  sonin-law,  promptly  refused  to 
punish  the  Dover  men,  whom  ho  alledged  to  have  been  extremely  ill-treated 
by  the  foreigners.  Edward  had  long  been  aware  of  the  hostile  feelings 
of  Godwin,  but  as  he  was  als(»  aware  of  the  very  great  and  widely-spread 
power  of  that  noble,  he  had  prudently  endeavoured  to  avoid  all  occasion 
of  open  disagreement.  But  this  blank  refusal  of  the  earl  to  obey  his  orders 
provoked  the  king  so  much,  that  he  threatened  (iodwin  with  the  full  weight 
of  his  displeasure  if  he  dared  to  persevere  in  his  disobedience. 

Aware,  and  probably  not  sorry,  that  an  open  rupture  was  now  almost 
unavoidable,  dodwin  assembled  a  force  and  marched  towards  Glouces- 
ter, where  the  king  was  then  residing  with  no  other  guard  than  his  or- 
dinary retinue.  Edward,  on  hearing  of  the  approach  and  hostile  bearing 
of  his  too  potent  father-in-law,  applied  for  aid  to  .Siward  and  Leofric,  the 
powerful  dukes  of  Northumberland  and  Mercia,  and  to  give  them  time  to 
add  to  the  forces  with  which  they  on  the  instant  proceeded  to  aid  him,  ho 
opened  a  negotiation  with  Godwin.  Wily  as  the  carl  .vas,  he  on  this  oc^ 
casion  f(»rgot  the  rebel  maxim — that  he  who  draws  the  sword  against  his 
sovereign  should  throw  away  the  scabbard.  Ho  allowed  the  king  to 
amuse  him  with  messages  and  proposals,  while  the  king's  friends  were 
raising  a  force  sufficiently  powerful  to  assure  him  success  should  thequar 
rel  proceed  to  blows.  As  the  descendant  of  a  long  line  of  English  kings, 
and  hiinoelf  a  king  remarkable  for  humane  and  just  conduct,  Edward  had 
a  popularity  which  not  even  his  somewlml  overweening  partiality  to  for- 
eigners could  abate ;  and  when  his  subjects  learned  that  he  was  in  danger 
from  the  anger  and  ambition  of  Godwin,  they  hastened  to  his  defence  in 
such  numbers  that  he  was  able  to  summon  him  to  answer  for  his  treason- 
able conduct.  Both  Godwin  and  his  sons,  who  had  joined  in  tiio  rebellion, 
professed  perfect  willinjiness  to  proceed  to  London  lo  answer  for  their 
conduct,  on  condition  that  they  should  receive  hostages  for  their  personal 
safety  and  fair  trial.  But  the  king  was  now  far  too  powerful  lo  grant 
any  such  terms,  and  (Jodwin  and  his  sons  perceiving  that  in  negotiating 
Mith  the  king  while  he  was  but  slenderly  attended  they  had  lost  the  golden 
opportunity  of  wresting  the  sovereignity  from  him,  hastily  disbanded  their 
troops  and  went  abroad ;  Godwin  and  three  of  his  sons  taking  refuge  with 
Baldwin,  earl  of  Flanders,  and  his  other  two  sons  taking  shelter  in  Ireland. 

Having  thus  for  the  time  got  rid  of  enemies  so  powerful,  the  king  be- 
stowed their  estates  and  governments  upon  some  of  his  favourites  ;  and 
Bs  he  no  longer  thought  himself  obliged  to  keep  any  terms  with  his  im- 
perious father-in-law,  he  thrust  Queen  Editha,  whom  he  had  never  loved, 
nito  a  convent  at  Wherwell. 

Bui  the  ruin  of  the  powerful  Godwin  was  more  apparent  than  real ;  he 
had  numerous  friends  in  England,  nor  was  he  without  such  foreign  alli- 
ances as  would  still  enable  him  to  give  those  friends  an  opportunFly  ol 
Bcrviiig  him.     His  ally,  the  earl  of  Flanders,  who  was  the  more  interested 


•mmm 


Ml  THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 

in  his  behalf  on  accouiil  of  (iodwin's  son  Tunii  having  married  iht  .'M  ■ 
daughter,  gave  him  tiie  uae  of  hi»  harbours  in  whi«!h  lo  aNsenibln  &  fle«t, 
and  Hsmntcd  him  lo  liiro  and  purciiiiBC  vcsmcU;  and  Oodwui,  tmving  com- 
pleted hia  preparations,  made  an  atlompt  to  Burpnso  Sandwich.  Uut  Kd 
ward  had  constantly  been  informed  of  the  earl'H  movcmcntB,  and  had  a  far 
•uperior  force  ready  to  meet  him.  Godwin,  who  depended  fully  as  much 
upon  policy  as  upon  force,  rrlurncd  to  Flanders,  trusting  that  his  seeming 
relinnuiBhrnent  of  his  design  would  throw  Edward  off  his  guard.  It  turned 
out  precisely  as  Oodwin  had  anticipated.  Edward  neglected  his  fleet  and 
allowed  his  seamen  to  disperse,  and  Godwin;  infornicti  of  this,  suddenly 
sailed  for  the  Isle  of  White,  where  he  was  joined  by  an  Irish  force  under 
Harold.  Seizing  the  vessels  in  the  southern  ports,  and  summoning  all 
his  friends  in  those  parts  to  aid  him  in  obtaining  Justice,  he  was  able  tu 
enter  the  Thames  and  appear  before  London  with  an  overwhelming  fores. 
Edv  iird  was  undismavcd  by  the  power  of  the  rebel  carl,  and  as  no  was 
determined  to  defend  himself  to  the  utmost,  a  civil  war  of  tho  worst  de- 
•cription  would  most  probably  have  ensued  but  for  tho  interference  of  tho 
nobles.  Many  of  these  were  secretly  friends  of  Godwin,  and  all  of  them 
were  very  desirous  to  accommodate  matters,  and  the  results  of  their  time- 
ly mediation  was  a  treaty,  by  which  it  was  stipulated  on  the  one  hand  that 
the  obnoxious  foreigners  should  be  sent  from  the  country,  and  on  the  other, 
that  Godwin  should  ^.fc  hostages  for  his  future  good  behaviour.  This  he 
did,  and  Edward  sent  tho  hostages  over  to  Normandy,  being  conscious 
that  he  could  not  safely  keep  them  at  I'is  own  court. 

Though  a  civil  war  was  undoubtedly  for  the  present  averted  by  this 
treaty  between  the  king  and  Godwin,  yet  the  ill  example  thus  given  of  tho 
necessities  of  the  king  compelling  him  to  treat  as  upon  equal  K^rms  with 
bis  vassal,  would  probably  have  produced  farther  and  more  mischievous 
acts  of  presumption  on  the  ^art  of  Godwin,  but  for  his  death,  which  sud- 
denly occurred  as  ho  was  dining  witii  the  king  shortly  after  this  hollow 
reconciliation  had  been  patched  up  between  them. 

Godwin  was  succeeded  both  in  his  governments  and  in  the  very  impor- 
tant office  of  steward  of  the  king's  honsehoid  by  his  son  Harold,  who  had 
all  his  father's  ambition,  together  with  a  self-command  and  seeming  hu- 
mility far  more  dangerous,  because  more  difficult  to  be  guarded  against, 
than  his  father's  impetuous  violence.  Although  unavoidably  prejudiced 
against  him  on  account  of  his  parentage,  Edward  was  won  by  his  seeming 
humility  and  anxiety  to  please.  Bui  though  Edward  could  not  refuse  him 
his  personal  esteem,  his  jealousy  was  awakened  by  the  anxiety  and  suc- 
cess with  which  Harold  endeavoured  to  make  partizans ;  and,  in  order  to 
curb  his  ambition,  he  played  off  a  rival  against  him  in  the  person  of  Algar, 
son  of  Leofric  duke  of  Mercia,  upon  whom  was  conferred  Handd's  old 
government  of  East  Anglia.  But  this  notable  expedient  of  the  king  vvhol- 
fy  failed.  Instead  of  the  power  of  Algar  balancing  that  of  Harold,  th« 
disputes  between  the  two  rivals  proceeded  lo  actual  warfare,  in  whicli,  as 
usual,  the  unoffending  people  were  the  greatest  sufferers.  The  death  ot 
both  Algar  and  his  father  put  an  end  to  this  rivalry,  or  probably  the  very 
means  which  the  king  had  taken  to  preserve  his  authority  wwuld  have 
wholly  and  fatally  subverted  it. 

A.D.  1055. — There  was  now  but  one  rival  from  whom  Harold  could  Icat 
any  effectual  competition;  Siward,  duke  of  Northumberland;  and  his 
death  speedily  left  Harold  without  peer  and  without  competitor.  Siward 
had  greatly  distinguished  himself  in  the  only  foreign  expedition  of  this 
reign,  which  was  undertaken  to  restore  Malcolm,  king  of  Scotland,  who 
had  been  chased  from  that  kingdom  after  the  murder  of  his  father,  King 
Duncan,  by  a  traitorous  noble  named  Macbetii.  In  this  expedition  Siward 
was  fully  successful;  but  unfortunately,  though  he  defeated  and  slew  the 
Bsurper,  Macbeth,  he  in  the  same  action  lost  his  eldest  son,  Osborne,  who 


THE  TRKASURY  OF  IIIJ«TORY. 


161 


had  iiwen  lii^h  pruniiic  uf  both  will  and  power  to  uphold  the  glory  ot  hit 
fiiiiiily. 

Niward's  character  hsid  much  of  the  Spartiiii  ronolutioii.     Ho  wiw  con 
noliMl  Tor  the  deiith  of  Iiih  g»lliitit  son  when  hit  Icaniuit  that  \m  wouiidi 
were  till  in  Ironl;  and  when  he  fell  llie  hand  of  dcalli  upon  hiiiiHrlf  he  had 
hJH  armour  cleaned  aiKl  a  Kpear  placed  in  his  hand,  that,  aa  he  siaid,  ho 
initfht  meet  death  in  ii  jjuise  worthy  of  a  noble  and  a  warrior. 

Owinij  to  the  health  of  the  kint(  hi^inn;  fant  decliiiinir,  and  Wm  havinij  no 


child 


nd  aH  li 


'fi 


about 

old  was  sutllciently  ambitious  to  Mcize  upon  the  crown,  he  sent  to  Hunga- 
ry for  his  elder  brother's  son  Edward.  That  prince  died  alni(»?<».  immedi- 
ately afuir  his  arrival  in  KnKland;  and  thouuli  the  title  of  his  son  Kdgur 
Athuling  would  have  bee  i  fully  as  jrood  and  indisjMitable  as  his  o.'ii,  Kd|{ar 
did  not,  to  the  anxious  eyes  of  the  king,  seem  either  by  years  or  cliaructcr 
a  competent  authority  to  curb  the  soaring  ambition  of  Harold.  Willing  to 
see  any  one  rather  than  Harold  secure  In  the  succession,  the  king  turned 
his  attention  to  William,  duke  of  Normandy.  This  prince  was  tiie  natural 
sou  of  William,  duke  of  Normniidy,  by  Harlotta,  tht  daughter  of  a  tanner 
of  the  town  of  Falaise;  hut  illegitimacy  in  that  ago  was  little  regarded. 
He  hud  shown  great  vigour  and  capacity  in  putting  down  the  o|ip()sitioii 
m.»de  to  his  succession  to  the  dukedom,  and  though  lie  was  of  very  tender 
ago  when  his  fattier  died,  his  conduct,  both  at  that  dirTieiiU  nisiH  and  in 
his  subsequent  government,  fully  justified  the  high  opinion  ol  him  which 
had  induced  his  father  to  bequeath  to  him  the  dukedom,  to  the  prejudice 
of  other  branches  of  the  ducal  family.  He  hud  paid  a  visit  tt)  Kiigiaud  and 
gained  much  upon  the  good  opinion  of  Edward,  who  had  acti-.lly  mad'' 
Known  to  him  his  intention  of  making  him  his  heir  even  before  iie  sentt,/ 
Hungary  for  Prince  Edward  and  his  family. 

Harold,  though  by  no  means  ignorant  of  the  king's  desire  to  cxcludj 
him  from  nil  chance  of  succeeding  to  the  throne,  steadfastly  pursued  liis 
plan  of  conciliating  the  powerful,  and  making  himself  noted  us  the  frieiso 
and  protector  of  the  weak.  In  this  respect  he  wa.^  eminently  success  lUl, 
but  there  was  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  final  triumph  from  wh' jh  he 
anticipated  very  great  difficulty.  Among  the  hostages  given  by  his  father. 
Earl  Godwin,  were  a  son  and  a  grandson  of  that  nobleman  ;  and  when 
Harold  perceived  that  Duke  William,  to  whose  custody  the  hostages  were 
committed,  had  hopes  of  being  left  heir  to  the  English  crown,  he  natural- 
ly became  anxious  about  the  consequences  of  his  intended  rivalry  to  rela- 
tives so  near.  To  get  them  out  of  the  duke's  power  previous  to  the  denXh 
of  the  king  was  of  the  utmost  importance;  and  he  applied  to  the  king  for 
their  release,  dwelling  much  upon  the  constant  obedience  and  dutifulnesa 
of  his  conduct,  upon  which  he  argued  it  was  in  some  sort  an  injurious  re- 
flection longer  to  keep  the  hostages.  As  his  conduct  really  had  been 
to  all  appearances  of  unbroken  faith  and  undeviating  loyalty,  the  king  was 
unable  to  make  any  solid  reply  to  his  arguments,  and  at  length  yielded  the 
point  and  empowered  Harold  to  go  to  Normandy  and  release  them.  Ho 
hastened  to  fulfil  this  very  agreeable  commission,  but  .  vinlenl  tenipest 
arose  while  he  was  at  sea  and  drove  him  ashore  upon  tl: "  .»•  ;Uory  of  Guy, 
count  of  Ponthien,  who  made  him  prisoner  in  the  hope  of  (Storting  a  very 
large  sum  from  him  by  the  way  of  ransom.  Harold  sent  to  the  duke  of 
Normandy  for  aid  in  this  dilemma,  representing  that  the  duke's  honour  as 
well  as  his  liberty  was  infringed  by  this  imprisoiuuent  of  a  nobleman 
bound  to  the  court  of  Normandy.  Nothing  could  have  happened  more 
agreable  to  the  wishes  of  William,  who,  if  of  a  more  hasty  temperament 
than  Harold,  was  no  less  politic ;  and  he  at  once  clearly  perceived  that 
this  unexpected  incident  would  give  him  the  means  of  practising  upon  his 
only  formidable  competitor  for  the  English  throne.  He  immediately  dis- 
patched a  messenger  to  demand  the  liberty  of  Harold ;  and  the  count  of 
I.— 11 


I 


THE  TEEASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


tjjft 


% 


Ponthieu  complied  on  the  instant,  not  daring  to  irritate  so  warlike  and 
powerful  a  prince  as  Duke  William.  Harold  then  proceeded  to  William's 
court  at  Pvouen,  where  he  was  received  with  every  demonstration  of  the 
warmest  good  will.  William  professed  the  greatest  willingness  to  give 
up  the  hostages,  and  at  the  same  time  took  the  opportunity— as  if  ignorant 
of  Harold's  own  secret  intentions— to  beg  his  aid  in  his  pretensions  to  the 
crown  of  England,  assuring  him  in  return  of  an  increase  to  the  grandeur 
and  power  already  enjoyed  by  his  own  family,  and  offering  him  a  daughter 
of  his  own  in  marriage.  Though  Harold  had  the  least  possible  desire  to 
aid  in  his  own  defeat,  he  clearly  enough  saw  that  if  he  were  to  refuse  to 

Eromise  it  he  would  b^  made  a  prisoner  in  Normandy  for  the  remainder  of 
is  life.  He  agreed,  therefore  to  give  William  his  support.  But  a  mere 
promise  would  not  serve  William's  turn,  he  required  an  oath,  and  as  oaths 
sworn  upon  reliques  were  in  that  age  deemed  of  more  than  usual  sanctity, 
he  had  some  reliques  of  the  most  venerated  martyrs  privately  hidden  be- 
neath the  altar  on  which  Harold  was  sworn  ;  and,  to  a-e  him  from  break- 
ing his  oath,  showed  them  to  him  at  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony. 
Harold  was  both  surprised  and  annoyed  at  the  shrewd  precaution  of  the 
duke,  but  was  too  politic  to  allow  his  concern  to  appear. 

Imagining  that  he  had  now  fully  secured  the  support  of  Harold  instead 
of  having  to  fear  his  opposition,  William  allowed  him  tJ  depart  with  many 
expressions  of  favour  and  friendship.  But  Haroid  had  no  sooner 
obtained  his  own  liberty  and  that  of  his  relatives,  than  he  began  to  exert 
ert  himself  to  suggest  reasons  for  breaking  the  oath  which  actual  though 
nominal  durance  had  extorted  from  him,  and  the  accompaniment  of  which 
had  been  brought  about  by  an  overt  fraud.  He  shut  his  eyes  upon  the 
fact  that,  having  consented  to  take  the  oath,  it  really  mattered  little  whe- 
ther he  was  aware  or  not  of  the  presence  of  the  reliques  ;  had  they  not 
been  there  his  oath  would  still  be  in  full  force,  and  he  could  only  act 
in  contravention  of  it  by  gross  perjury.  Determined  to  have  the  crown  if 
possible,  even  at  this  fearful  price,  he  now  redoubled  his  efforts  at  gaining 
public  favour,  hoping  that  his  superior  popularity  would  deter  the  king 
from  making  any  further  advances  to  Duke  William,  and  relying,  in  the 
last  resort,  upon  the  armed  defence  of  the  nation.  In  pursuance  of  this 
plan  he  headed  an  expedition  against  the  Welsh,  and  pressed  them  to  such 
straits  that  they  beheaded  their  prince,  Griffith,  and  consented  to  be  gov 
erned  by  two  noblemen  appointed  by  Edward. 

The  popularity  he  gained  in  this  expedition  was  greatly  enhanced  by  his 
politic  and  ostentatious  display  of  rigid  partiality  in  a  case  in  which  his 
brother,  Tosti,  duke  of  Northumberland,  was  a  principal  party.  Tosti  had 
conducted  himself  with  such  tyrannical  violence  that  the  Northumbrians 
expelled  him ;  and  the  deceased  Duke  Leofric's  grandsons,  Morcar  and 
Edward,  having  sided  with  the  people,  the  former  was  by  them  elected  to 
be  their  duke.  The  king  commissoned  Harold  to  put  down  this  insurrec- 
tion, which  it  was  naturally  supposed  that  he  would  be  all  the  more  zeal- 
ous in  doing,  as  the  interests  of  his  own  brother  were  concerned.  But  Mor« 
car,  having  demanded  a  conference  with  Harold,  gave  him  such  proofs 
of  the  misconduct  of  Tosti,  and  appealed  so  flatteringly  to  his  own  very 
opposite  conduct,  that  Harold  not  merely  withdrew  the  army  with  which 
he  was  about  to  chastise  the  Northumbrians,  but  made  such  a  representa- 
tion of  the  case  as  induced  the  king  not  only  to  pardon  the  Northumbri- 
ans but  also  to  confirm  Morcar  in  Tosti's  government.  Tosti  fled  to  tho 
court  of  Flanders,  hut  subsequently  took  an  opportunity  to  show  the  extent 
of  his  dissatisfaction  with  his  brother's  decision. 

Shortly  after  this  affair  Harold  married  the  sister  of  Morcar,  a  step 
which  plainly  intimated  how  little  he  held  himself  bound  to  perform  the 
sworn  engagements  to  William  of  Normandy.  In  fact  he  was  now  ao 
very  popular,  that  he  made  no  secret  of  his  pretension  to  the  throne,  but 


lia 


of  a 
of 
bee 
bod 

of 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


163 


upenly  urged  that  as  Edgar  Atheling  was  by  all  acknowledged  to  be  iinflt 
to  wear  the  English  crown,  he  was  the  fittest  man  in  the  nation  to  sac- 
ceed  Edward ;  and  though  the  king  was  too  much  opposed  to  Harold's 
suci;ession  directly  and  positively  to  sanction  his  pretension,  he  was  too 
weak  in  both  mind  and  body  to  take  any  energetic  steps  for  securing  the 
succession  of  William. 

The  king  had  long  been  visibly  sinking,  and  yet  though  conscious  of  his 

approaching  end,  and  really  anxious  to  prevent  the  accession  of  Harold, 

he  could  not  muster  resolution  to  invite  Duke  William,  but  left  chance, 

policy,  or  arms  to  dicide  the  succession  at  his  death,  which  occured  in  the 

sixiy-fifih  year  of  his  age  and  the  twenty-fifth  of  his  reign.     Though  both 

Godwin  and  Harold  excited  his  dislike  by  the  influence  they  acquired  over 

lim  by  superior  talent  and  energy,  the  peaceableness  of  his  reign  was,  in 

ict,  mainly  attributable  to  their  power  and  influence.   Edward  was  natural- 

/  weak  and  superstitious,  and  if  it  had  chanced  that  he  had  fallen  into  other 

inds,  it  is  probable  that  his  reign  would  have  been  both  troubled  and 

>ortened.    The  superstitious  custom  o{  touching  for  the  king's  evil  origi- 

.ated  with  this  prince. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THK    REIGN    OF    HAROLD    THE    SECOND. 

A.D.  1066. — The  death  of  Edward  the  Confessor  had  so  long  been 
probable,  that  Harold  had  ample  time  to  make  his  preparations,  and  in  the 
mere  fact  of  nis  being  on  the  spot  he  had  a  great  and  manifest  advantage 
over  his  Norman  rival.  Not  only  were  his  partizans  numerous  and  pow- 
erful by  their  wealth  and  stations,  they  were  also  compactly  organized. 
Neither  Duke  William  nor  Edgar  Atheling  was  formally  proposed,  but  it 
was  taken  for  granted  that  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  people  was  repre- 
sented by  that  of  the  lay  and  clerical  nobles  who  surrounded  Harold ;  and, 
without  even  waiting  for  the  formal  sanction  of  the  states  of  the  kingdom, 
he  was  crowned  by  the  archbishop  of  York  on  the  very  day  after  the  de- 
cease of  Edward.  Nor,  in  fact,  was  the  consent  of  the  nation  so  mere  an 
assumption  as  it  sometimes  has  been  ;  for  Harold  was  universally  popu- 
lar, and  the  Normans  were  as  universally  hated  as  foreigners,  and  feared 
on  account  of  their  fierce  and  warlike  character.  But  popular  as  Harold 
was  in  England,  he  was  not  long  allowed  to  enjoy  his  elevation  in  peace. 
His  brother  Tosli,  who  had  remained  in  voluntary  banishment  at  the  court 
of  Flanders  ever  since  Harold's  memorable  decision  against  him,  deemed 
that  his  time  was  now  arrived  to  take  revenge.  IIu  exerted  his  utmost  in- 
fluence with  the  earl  of  Flanders,  and  sent  messengers  into  Norway  to 
raise  forces,  and  journeyed  personally  to  Normandy  to  engage  Duke  Wil 
liam  to  join  him  in  avenging  both  their  grievances. 

This  last  step  Tosti  had  not  the  slightest  occasion  to  take,  for  Duke  Wil- 
liam was  far  too  much  enraged  at  Harold's  breach  of  faith  to  require  any 
urging.  He  had  already  determined  that  Harold  should  at  the  least  have 
to  fight  for  the  throne ;  but  as  it  was  obviously  important  to  stand  as  well 
as  possible  with  the  English  people,  he  sent  ambassadors  summoning 
Harold  to  perform  the  promise  he  had  made  under  the  most  solemn  form 
oC  an  oath.  Harold  replied  at  some  length  and  with  considerable  show 
of  reason  to  the  duke's  message.  As  related  to  his  oath,  he  said,  that  had 
been  extorted  from  him  under  circumstances  of  durance  and  well-grounded 
bodily  terror,  and  was  consequently  null;  and,  moreover,  he  as  a  private 
perfon  could  not  lawfully  swear  to  forward  the  duke's  pretentions.  He 
nad  himselt,  he  added,  been  raised  to  the  throne  by  the  unanimous  voice 
of  his  people,  and  he  would  indeed  be  unworthy  of  their  love  and  trust 


tb4 


THE  TftBASURY  OF  H18TOEY. 


were  he  not  prepared  to  defend  the  liberties  they  had  entrusted  in  his 
care.  Finally,  he  said,  should  the  duke  attempt  by  force  of  arms  to  dis- 
turb him  and  his  kingdom,  he  would  soon  learn  how  great  is  the  power 
of  a  united  people,  led  by  a  prince  of  its  own  choice,  and  one  who  was 
firmly  determined  that  he  would  only  cease  to  reign  when  he  should  c'sase 
to  live. 

William  expected  such  an  answer  as  this,  and  even  while  his  messen- 
gers were  travelling  between  Normandy  and  the  English  court  he  was 
busily  engaged  in  preparations  for  reinforcing  his  pretensions  by  arms. 
Urave,  and  possessed  of  a  high  reputation,  he  could  count  not  only  upon 
the  zealous  aid  of  his  own  warlike  Normans,  who  would  look  on  llie  in- 
vasion of  such  a  country  as  England  in  the  light  of  an  absolute  godsend, 
but  also  of  the  numerous  martial  nobles  of  the  continent,  who  literally 
made  a  trade  of  war,  and  were  ever  ready  to  range  themselves  and  their 
stalwart  men-at-arms  under  the  banner  of  a  bold  and  famous  leader,  with- 
out expressing  any  troublesome  curiosity  as  to  the  rightfulness  of  his 
cause.    Among  these  unscrupulous  swordera  the  wealth,  fame  and  a  cer- 
tain blunt  and  hearty  hospitality  of  William  made  him  extremely  popular; 
and  in  the  idea  of  conquering  such  a  kingdom  as  England  there  was  much  to 
tempt  their  cupidity  as  well  as  to  inflame  their  valour.     Fortune,  too,  fa- 
voured William  by  the  sudden  death  of  Conan,  count  of  Brittany.    Be- 
tween this  nobleman  and  William  there  was  an  old  and  very  inveterate 
feud,  and  Conan  no  sooner  learned  Duke  William's  design  upon  England, 
than  he  endeavoured  to  embarrass  and  prevent  him  by  reviving  his  own 
claim  to  the  duchy  of  Normandy,  which  he  required  to  be  settled  upon  him 
in  the  event  of  the  duke  succeeding  in  England.    This  demand  would 
have  caused  the  duke  much  inconvenience,  but  Conan  had  scarcely  made 
it  when  he  died,  and  Count  Hoel,  his  successor,  so  far  from  seeking  to 
embarrass  William,  sent  him  five  thousand  men  under  command  of  his 
son  Alain.    The  earl  of  Flanders  and  tlie  count  of  Anjou  permitted  their 
subjects  to  join  William's  army,  and  though  the  regency  of  France  osten- 
sibly commanded  him  to  lay  aside  his  enterprise,  the  earl  of  Flanders, 
who  was  at  the  head  of  the  regency  and  who  was  his  father-in-law,  took 
care  to  let  the  French  nobility  know  that  no  objection  would  Ije  offered  to 
their  enlisting  under  William.    Still  more  important  aid  and  encourage- 
ment were  afforded  to  William  by  the  emperor  Henry  IV.,  who  not  only 
assisted  him  in  levying  men  in  his  dominion,  but  also  promised  to  protect 
the  duchy  of  Normandy  during  the  duke's  absence;  but  the  most  lu.portant 
protector  and  encourager  of  William  in  his  projected  enterprise  v.  .,s  Pope 
Alexander  III.,  whom  the  duke,  with  shrewd  judgment,  had  completely 
won  to  his  interests  by  voluntarily  making  iiim  the  mediator  between 
them.     The  great  anxiety  of  the  papal  courts  to  have  an  influence  as  well 
over  the  temporal  as  over  the  spiritual  affairs  of  the  nation  would  have 
rendered  this  one  stroke  of  William's  policy  quite  decisive  of  Alexander's 
conduct,  but  the  pontiff  was  still  farther  interested  in  the  duke's  success 
by  his  belief  that  should  the  Normans  conquer  England,  they  would  sub- 
ject that  nation  more  completely  than  it  had  yet  been  to  the  papal  see. 

From  the  states  of  his  own  duchy  William  at  first  met  with  some  oppo- 
sition, the  supplies  he  required  being  unpreccdently  and  onerously  large. 
But  Odo,  bishop  of  Bayt  ix,  William  Fitzosborne,  count  of  Breteuil  and 
constable  of  Normandy,  with  the  count  of  Longueville  and  other  Nor- 
man magnates,  so  effectually  aided  him  that  this  difficulty  was  got  over, 
and  the  states  agreed  to  furnish  him  with  all  the  aid,  only  under  prote<^t 
that  their  compliance  should  not  be  drawn  into  a  precedence  injurious  to 
their  posterity. 

By  great  activity,  perseverance,  and  address,  William  at  length  found 
himself  at  the  head  of  a  magnificently  appointed  force  of  three  thousand 
vessels  of  various  rates,  and  upwards  of  60,000  men  ;  and  so  popular  had 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


165 


his  purpose  now  become  among  the  warriors  of  the  continent,  that  he 
could  probably  have  nearly  doubled  the  number  of  men  had  he  thought 
it  necessary  to  do  so.  Nor  was  il  merely  by  dint  of  numbers  that 
his  force  was  imposing.  His  veteran  and  disciplined  men-at  arms  were 
led  by  some  of  the  most  famous  champions  of  even  that  age  of  knights  and 
true  warriors ;  among  whom  he  could  reckon  Eustace,  count  of  Boulogne, 
William  de  Warenne,  Roger  de  Beaumont,  Hugh  d'  Kstaples,  and  the  far- 
famed  Charles  Martel. 

While  William  excited  the  ardour  of  these  and  other  gallant  leaders  by 
promising  tiiem  rich  spoils  from  the  land  they  were  about  to  conquer  for 
him,  Tosli,  the  infuriated  brother  of  Harold,  was  busied  by  William's  in- 
structions in  ravaging  the  coasts  of  England,  and  distracting  the  attsntioii 
of  Harold  and  his  subjects  from  their  more  rednubtable  enemy's  prepara* 
tions.  In  conjunction  with  Harold  Halfager,  king  of  Norway,  Tosti  led  a 
powerful  fleet  into  the  Humber,  and  began  to  despoil  the  country.  Mor- 
car,  duke  of  Northumberland,  and  Edwin,  duke  of  Mercia,  got  together 
such  forces  as  time  would  allow,  and  endeavoured  to  beat  back  the  marau- 
ders, but  were  put  to  the  rout  by  them.  But  though  ihc  effort  of  these  noble- 
men was  in  itself  disastrously  unsuccessful,  it  gave  Harold  lime  to  raise  a 
compact  force  and  hasten  to  meet  the  invaders  in  person.  He  met  them 
at  Stanford,  in  Linconshire,  and  in  the  action  that  «tnsued  the  invaders 
were  completely  defeated,  and  both  Tosti  and  the  kin^  of  Norway  perished 
on  the  field.  Prince  Olave,  son  of  the  king  of  Norway,  was  taken  pris- 
oner, and  the  whole  of  the  Norwegian  fleet  was  captured;  but  Harold, 
with  great  generosity,  gave  the  young  prince  his  freedom,  and  allowed 
him  to  take  twenty  ships  and  depart  to  his  own  country. 

Though  this  victory  and  Harold's  moderation  after  it  gave  the  English 
great  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the  clioice  they  had  made  of  a  king,  it 
was,  in  fact,  very  disastrous  to  Harold,  as  it  cost  him  a  great  number  o. 
his  best  men  and  officers  at  the  precise  time  when  he  most  needed  their 
services ;  and  even  his  returning  the  spoils,  though  he  was  actuated  by  a 
desire  to  spare  his  people  as  much  as  possible  in  the  approaching  contest 
with  Duke  William,  gave  so  much  disgust  to  his  soldiery,  that  many  ot 
them  actually  deserted,  and  the  rest  were  discontented.  His  brother 
Gurth,  apprehending  some  fatal  consequences  from  this  really  unreasona- 
ble discontent,  endeavoured  to  dissuade  Harold  from  risking  his  own  per- 
son in  the  field  against  William.  He  urged  that  it  would  be  unwise  to 
risk  all  upon  one  battle,  when  by  retiring  before  the  enemy  he  who  could 
depend  upon  the  loyalty  and  affection  of  his  subjects  for  abundant  supplies 
could  weary  out  the  invaders,  and  starve  them  into  submission  or  retreat ; 
and  he  added,  that  as  Harold  had,  however  unwittingly,  sworn  upon  the 
reliques  to  support  instead  of  opposing  the  duke,  it  would  bo  far  better  foi 
him  to  refrain  from  taking  any  personal  part  in  the  approaching  contest. 
But  Harold  would  heed  no  reasoning  and  no  remonstrance ;  he  was  deter- 
mined literally  to  fulfil  the  terms  of  his  reply  to  William's  summons,  and 
to  cease  to  reign  only  in  ceasing  to  live. 

After  some  difllculties  from  bad  weather  and  contrary  winds,  in  which 
the  Duke  lost  some  small  vessels,  the  Norman  fleet  appeared  ofif  the  coast 
of  Sussex,  and  the  army  landed  at  Pevensy  without  opposition.  The  duke 
in  his  hurry  to  leap  ashore  stumbled  and  fell  to  the  ground ;  but  he  with 
great  presence  of  mind  prevented  his  soldiers  from  interpreting  this  acci- 
dent into  an  evil  omen,  by  loudly  exclaiming  that  he  had  now  taken  pos- 
session of  the  country. 

Harold,  who  had  approached  with  his  army,  sent  a  monk  to  Duke  Wil- 
liam to  offer  to  settle  their  dispute  by  the  payment  of  a  sum  of  money  to 
nim.  William,  who  was  equally  confident  of  success,  replied  that  he 
would,  if  Harold  chose,  put  the  issue  upon  a  single  combat,  and  thus  spare 
the  effusion  of  blood;  but  Harold  declined  this  proposal,  and  said  that  the 
od  of  battles  would  soon  decide  between  them. 


16C 


THE  TRKASURY  OF  HISTOttY. 


The  eve  of  the  momentous  day  of  strife  was  passed  by  the  Normans  in 
prayer,  and  in  confessing  their  sins  to  the  host  of  n-ionks  by  whom  they 
were  acr.ompanied ;  but  the  English,  more  confident  or  more  reckless,  gave 
themselves  up  to  wassail  and  merriment. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  Duke  addressed  the  principal  leaders.  He  rep- 
resented  to  them  that  they  had  come  to  conquer  a  fine  country  from  the 
hands  of  a  usurper  whose  perjury  could  not  fail  to  call  down  destruction 
upon  his  head;  that  if  they  foujjlit  valianlly  their  success  was  certain,  but 
that  if  any,  from  cowardice  or  treachery, should  retreat,  they  would  infal- 
libly perish  between  a  furious  enemy  and  the  sea  towards  which  he  would 
drive  them.  His  address  finished,  the  duke  formed  his  immense  force  into 
three  divisions.  His  choice  and  heavy-armed  infantry  was  commanded 
by  Charles  Martel,  the  archers  .,  .d  light-armed  infantry  by  Roger  de 
Montgonjery,  and  the  cavalry,  v/hi"h  flanked  both  those  divisions,  was 
under  his  own  immediate  leadiii  j. 

Harold  had  chosen  his  situation  wImi  great  judgment.   His  force  was  dis 
posed  upon  the  slope  of  a  rising  ground  and  the  flanks  were  secured  against 
cavalry,  in  which  he  was  but  weak,  by  deep  trenches.     In  this  position  he 
resolved  to  await  the  attack  of  the  enemy,  and  he  placed  himself  on  foot, 
accompanied  by  his  brothers  Gurth  and  Leofwin,  at  the  head  of  his  infan 
try.     The  first  attack  of  the  Normans  was  fierce,  but  the  steadiness  with 
which  they  were  met  and  the  great  difliculty  of  the  ground  compelled 
them  to  retire,  and  the  English  pursued  and  threw  them  into  a  disorder 
which  threatened  to  degenerate  into  actual  rout.    Duke   William,  who 
saw  that  all  his  hopes  were  at  this  moment  in  jfopardy,  led  on  the  flower 
of  his  cavalry,  and  speedily  compelled  the  English  to  relinquish  their  hard- 
earned  advantage,  and  retire  to  their  original  position.     William  now  or- 
dered up  additional  troops  to  the  attack,  but  finding  the  English  stand  firm 
he  made  a  feint  of  retreat.     With  far  more  bravery  than  judgment,  tlie 
English  abandoned  their  advantageous  post  tit  pursue  the  flying  and  seem- 
ingly terrified  e'lomy,  when  the  Norman  infantry  suddenly  halted  and  faced 
the  English,  whose  flanks  were  at  the  same  instant  furiously  charged 
by  the  Norman  cavalry.     William  was  admirably  obeyed  by  his  troops, 
and  the  English  fell  in  vast  numbers;  but  the  survivors  by  great  exertiop 
regained  the  hill,  where  the  aid  and  example  of  Harold  enabled  them  to 
defend  themselves  with  greater  advantage.    Extraordinary  as  it  may  seem, 
the  ardour  of  the  Knglish  enabled  William  to  put  the  same  feint  into  exe- 
cution a  second  time,  and  with  equal  advantage  to  himself,  though  the 
main  body  of  Harold's  army  still  remained  firmly  entrenched  upon  the 
hill.   But  galled  by  the  incessant  play  of  William's  archers,  who  discharg- 
ed their  deadly  missiles  over  the  heads  of  the  advancing  heavy-infantry, 
the  English  were  at  length  broken  by  the  furious  yet  steady  charges  ol 
these  latter,  and,  Harold  and  both  his  brothers  being  slain,  they  fled 
and  were  pursued  with  terrible  slaughter  by  the  victorious  Normans.— 
William  did  not  gain  this  important  victory  without  vast  loss,  the  battle 
having  been  continued  with  almost  unabated  fury  on  boili  sides  from 
morning  until  evening.     Thedesd  body  of  the  ill-fated  Harold  was  found, 
and,  by  the  orders  of  the  duke,  restored  to  his  mother ;  and  the  Normans 
having  solemnly  returned  thanks  for  their  signal  triumph,  marched  on- 
ward to  pursue  their  advantage. 

Had  the  English  still  possessed  a  royal  family  of  the  high  courage  and 
popularity  of  Harold,  Duke  William,  in  spite  of  his  first  brilliant  success, 
might  for  years  have  been  harassed  by  the  necessity  of  continually  fight- 
ing small  "and  indecisive  battles  in  every  province  of  the  kingdom,  ^ut 
Edgar  Atheling,  the  only  Saxon  heir  to  the  crown,  had  neither  the  capaci 
ty  nor  the  reputation  which  would  enable  him  to  organize  and  direct  a  re 
sistance  of  this  stern  and  stubborn  description.  But  his  mere  lineage 
went  fur  much  in  the  circumstances  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  dukes  Morcai 


THE  TRBABURY  OP  HI8TOHY. 


167 


and  Edwin,  now  the  most  powerful  and  popular  men  leTt  to  the  En- 
glish, proclaimed  Edgar,  and  called  upon  the  people  to  support  their  Saxon 
sovereign  against  the  Norman  invader.  In  this  measure  the  dukes 
were  zealously  assisted  by  Stigand,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  whose 
wPHlih  and  influence  made  him  of  great  service  to  them. 

William  m  the  meantime,  took  possession  of  Romney  and  then  of  Do- 
ver, thus  securing  himself  a  communication  with  his  duchy  in  the  event 
of  any  adverse  turn  of  fortune.  Having  given  his  troops  a  week's  rest  at 
Dover,  the  duke  availed  himself  of  the  time  to  publish  to  the  people  the 
pope's  bull  in  favour  of  his  enterprise,  it  being  a  document  which  he  well 
know  would  have  a  great  eflect  upon  the  superstitious  minds  of  the  multi- 
tude, and  thus  disincline  them  to  aid  the  resistance  planned  by  their  lead- 
ers, he  marched  towards  London.  A  large  body  of  Londoners  attempt- 
ed to  arrest  his  course,  but  they  were  routed  with  terrible  slaughter  by 
about  five  hundred  horse  of  the  Norman  advance  ;  and  this  new  disaster, 
together  with  the  little  confidence  and  enthusiasm  excited  by  Edgar,  so 
completely  dispirited  the  people,  that  even  Morcar  and  Edwin  now  de- 
spaired of  success,  and  retired  to  their  respective  governments.  All  Kent 
submitted  ;  Southwark  attempted  some  resistance,  and  was  set  on  Are  ; 
and  the  Normans  seemed  so  wholly  irresistible  that  Stigand,  archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  Edgar  Atheling,  and  other  leading  men  of  the  kingdom, 
tendered  William  the  crown  and  made  their  submission  to  him.  With  a 
degree  of  hypocrisy,  which  the  vast  preparations  he  had  made  and  the 
great  toils  he  had  undergone  for  tiie  purpose  of  obtaining  the  crown  made 
ridiculous,  the  duke  pretended  to  have  scruples  about  accepting  the  crown 
without  some  more  formal  consent  of  the  English  people.  But  his  own 
friends,  ashamed  of  his  gratuitous  simulation,  or  afraid  that  his  affected 
scruples  might  give  rise  to  some  adverse  turn  of  events,  remonstrated  so 
plainly  with  hinr,  that  his  feigned  reluctance  was  laid  aside,  and  orders 
were  given  for  t.iv'>  .tecessary  preparations  for  his  immediate  coronation. 
Stigand,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was,  according  to  etiquette,  the  pro- 
per person  to  have  crowned  William.  But  the  alacrity  that  prelate  had 
shown  in  defending  his  country  made  him  an  object  of  the  Conquerer's 
dislike,  who  refused  to  be  crowned  by  him,  on  the  plea  that  his  pall  had 
been  irregularly  obtained ;  and  the  melancholy  office  fell  upon  Aldred. 
archbishop  of  York. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  REIGN  OF  WILLIAM  I.,  USUALLY  STYLED  "  WILLIAM  THE  COWqUEROR." 

The  principal  English  and  Norman  nobility  being  assembled  in  West- 
minister abhey  (Dec.  23,  1066),  Aldred  asked  them  if  they  were  willing  to 
have  Williain  for  their  king,  and  being  answered  by  affirmative  acclama- 
tions, he  admonished  him  to  uphold  the  church,  love  justice,  and  execute 
justice  with  mercy  ;  and  then  put  the  crown  on  his  head  amid  the  loud 
applause  of  the  spectators  of  ho!h  nations.  A  strong  guard  of  Normans 
surrounded  the  abbey,  and  hearin.j  the  shouts  within,  they  imagined  that 
the  duke  was  attacked ;  upon  which  they  immediately  fell  upon  the  popu- 
lace and  fired  the  houses  around,  and  it  was  only  by  great  exertion  and 
his  personal  presence  that  William  was  enabled  to  put  an  end  to  the  out- 
rage and  disturbance. 

Though  he  had  experienced  so  much  good  will  from  the  principal  En- 
glish, William  even  yet  felt  doubtful  how  far  he  might  rely  unoit  the  peace- 
able conduct  of  his  nev  subjects,  especially  the  sturdy  Londoners,  and  he 
showfcJ  the  jealousy  he  felt  by  causing  strong  fortresses  to  be  erect  >d  to 
overawe  the  English  and  serve  as  places  of  refuge  for  his  own  people. 


168 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HI8T0ET. 


A.  D.  1067.— His  je-.'lodsy  o "  liis  ,  i  w  subjects  was  still  further  shown  oy 
hia  retiring  from  London  to  Darkii,-,  in  Essex,  where  h«j  held  a  court  fox 
the  purpose  of  receiving  the  homage  of  those  English  nobles  who  had  not 
been  presented  at  the  coronation.  Edric,  surnamed  the  Forester,  the 
brave  Earl  Coxo,  Edwin  and  Mor<  ar,  who  had  so  zealously  though  inef 
fectually  endeavoured  to  prevent  him  from  enslaving  their  country,  and  « 
crowd  of  nobles  of  smaller  note  waited  upon  him  there,  made  their  sub- 
mission in  form,  and  were  confirmed  by  him  in  their  authority  and  pos 
sessions,  and  though  ihe  new  reign  had  commenced  in  war  and  usurpaUon 
there  was  thus  far  every  appearance  of  its  being  both  a  just  and  a  truij. 

quil  one.  ...        ,    „  u-  ■it,,.. 

Having  received  the  submission  of  all  his  principal  English  su'-jeciis, 
William  now  busied  himsi;''  in  distributing  rewards;  amoiii'  the  Nonnan 
soldiery  to  whom  he  owed  his  new  (irown.  He  was  enabh;d  to  Ixiiavo 
the  more  liberally  towards  them,  because,  in  aduUion  ',o  the  largo  treasure 
of  the  unfortunate  Harold  which  had  fnlleninto  hit?  hands,  he  Vtuoenricn-jd 
by  great  presents  made  to  him  by  numerous  wealthy  English  who  were 
desire  us  of  being  among  the  eariiest  to  worship  llsc  nsing  sun,  that  they 
might  enlarge,  or  at  the  least  preserve  tliuir  estaton.  As  the  clergy  liad 
greatiy  assisted  him  he  made  rich  presents  to  them  also;  Hfui  he  f/dered 
an  abbey  to  be  erected  near  ihft  site  of  tlio  late  batik:,  an(ji  to  be  called 
after  ';. 

An  anecdote  is  related,  in  connection  with  this  abbey,  timi  Wiiliam  wits 
informed,  ufter  'ii  foundations  were  laid,  that  the  workmfin  could  not 
find  any  spring  c  water  for  ihe  supply  of  the  intended  edifice.  "  Let 
them  work  on,"  repiied  Widiam,  "!f.  them  work  on,  by  the  blessing  of 
God,  wine  shall  bt5  mt>re  plentiful  in  that  abbey  than  water  in  auy  other 
-.1  England." 

\\  .li.im  doubtless  hnil'  tuis  mignificent  abbey  partly  for  tho  sake  of 
I  'ocin^  there  his  mosi  zealous  friends  among  the  Norman  monks,  and 
:  \ii.iy  as  a  splendid  and  durable  monument  of  his  great  triumph  ,  but  he 
uiTected  to  dedicate  it  chiefly  to  the  saying  of  masses  for  tho  r<.<piMe  of 
that  unfortunate  prince  whom  he  had  deprived  of  both  kingdom  atv}  life. 
Though  William  had  obtained  his  throne  strictly  by  conauest  and  usur- 
pation, he  commenced  his  reign  in  a  manner  the  best  calculated  to  recon- 
cile his  subjects  to  their  change  of  sovereigns.  The  pride  of  conquest  did 
not  blind  him  to  the  necessity  of  conciliation,  and  while  ho  was  in  reality 
the  most  busy  in  placing  all  power  and  influence  in  Norman  hands,  he  lost 
tio  opportunity  or  showing  apparent  favour  to  and  confidence  in  the  lead- 
i)i^l  Saxons.  Though  he  confiscated  not  only  the  estates  of  Harold,  but 
alf.o  those  of  many  of  the  leading  men  who  had  sided  with  that  unfortu- 
nate prince,  he  in  numerous  cases  availed  himself  of  slender  excuses  for 
restoring  the  properties  to  their  rightful  owners.  Satisfied  that  the  imbe- 
cility of  Edgar  Atheling  secured  the  peaceable  behaviour  of  that  prince, 
he  confirmed  him  in  the  earldom  of  Oxford  with  which  he  had  been  in- 
vested by  the  deceased  kinrr ;  and,  by  the  studied  kindness  of  his  de* 
me?  nour  towards  the  Saxon  nobles  who  approached  him,  he  strove  to  add 
to  their  gratitude  for  the  solid  favours  he  conferred  upon  them,  a  feeling 
of  personal  kindness  and  affection.  Nor  did  he  omit  to  secure  the  good- 
will of  the  people  at  large  by  maintaining  among  his  troops  that  strict  dis- 
cipline for  which  he  had  been  remarkable  in  Normandy.  Victors  though 
they  were,  and  both  ordered  and  encouraged  to  keep  the  Saxon  popula- 
ion  in  strict  obedience  to  the  new  government,  they  were  not  allowed  to 
•i.'d  insolence  to  authority,  and  the  slightest  disorder  or  invasion  of  pro- 
perly was  promptly  and  strictly  punished.  His  conciliating  policy  ex- 
tended to  the  metropolis.  That  city  had  been  warmly  opposed  ♦©  hi.n, 
but  his  anger  for  the  pust  opposition  was  kept  down  by  a  pruder.t  con- 
tideration  of  the  importaut  part  so  powerful  a  city  might  at  some  isrvire 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


time  take  for  or  aaninst  him  ;  and  he  therefore  confirmed  its  charter  and 
privileges  as  early  and  with  as  much  apparent  good-will  as  he  did  those  of 
the  other  cities  of  the  kingdom. 

These  instsmces  of  justice  and  moderation  produced  the  greater  effect 
on  account  of  the  warlike  fame  and  generally  stern  character  of  the  king, 
and  while  his  imposing  presence  and  brilliant  reputation  caused  him  to  be 
looked  upon  with  awe  wherever  he  appeared,  as  he  took  care  to  do  in 
those  parts  of  which  he  most  suspected  the  loyalty,  his  studied  courtesy 
to  the  high  and  benignity  to  the  lowly  obtained  him  very  general  liking. 

But  at  the  same  time  that  he  was  thus  conciliating  his  new  subjects  by 
justice  and  moderation,  which  latter,  under  sfll  the  circumstances,  might 
in  some  cases  be  called  by  the  stronger  name  of  mercy,  he  look  abundant 
care  to  keep  the  one  thing  needful,  power,  in  his  own  hands.  While  he 
confirmed  the  privileges  of  the  prosperous  and  populous  cities,  he  built 
fortresses  in  many  of  them  and  carefully  disarmed  them  all.  He  thus 
commanded  all  the  best  military  posts  in  the  kingdom,  and  had  them  con- 
stantly occupied  by  his  veteran  soldiers,  while  by  bestowing  upon  the 
leaders,  to  whose  valour  and  conduct  he  owed  so  much,  the  confiscated 
possessions  of  the  Saxon  nobility  and  gentry,  he  created  numerous  minor 
despotisms  dependant  upon  his  sway, and  vitally  interested  in  its  prosperity. 

His  politic  mixture  of  rigour  and  mildness  had  all  the  success  he  could 
have  anticipated  or  even  wished,  and  the  kingdom  settled  down  so  calmly 
under  his  authority,  and  so  implicitly  obeyed  his  orders,  that  he  even  con- 
sidered it  safe  to  pay  a  visit  to  France.  On  this  occasion,  however,  he 
exhibited  his  usual  policy  ;  while  he  entrusted  the  government  of  Kngland 
to  William  Fitzosborne  and  his  own  half-brother,  Odo,  bishop  of  Bayeux, 
whom  he  knew  that  he  could  safely  trust  both  as  to  ability  and  fidelity,  he 
*nviled  the  principal  Saxons  to  accompany  him  on  his  journey,  thus  making 
them  hostages  while  seeming  to  make  them  attendants  upon  his  state  and 
companions  in  his  pleasure.  Among  the  personages  whom  he  thus  de- 
prived of  the  p«wer,  even  supposing  them  to  have  the  will,  of  exciting  any 
disturbances  during  his  absence,  were  the  earls  Edwin  and  Morcar,  and 
Stigand,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  of  whose  faith  he  was  somewhat  doubt- 
ful on  account  of  their  opposition  to  him  when  he  first  invaded  their  coun- 
try. He  also  took  with  him  Edgar  Atheling,  whose  very  name  he  thought 
likely  to  prove  a  spell  to  tempt  the  English  to  rebellion,  and  numerous 
personages,  who,  though  of  less  note,  had  great  influence  from  wealth  or 
civil  or  ecclesiastical  station. 

Though  William  on  arriving  in  his  old  dominion  played  the  hospitable 
host  to  his  English  attendants,  and  though  they,  anxious  to  furnish  him 
with  every  inducement  to  continue  in  his  gracious  and  just  course,  wore 
joyful  and  contented  countenances,  and  endeavoured  to  do  honour  to  their 
new  master  by  displaying  before  his  ancient  subjects  their  utmost  wealth 
and  magnificence,  they  were  in  secret  much  galled  and  irritated  by  the 
insolent  superiority  which  the  Norman  barons  and  courtiers  did  not  fail 
to  asL'ime. 

The  complete  submission  and  order  to  which  William  had  reduced  the 
kingdom  of  England,  a  submission  and  order  so  perfect  as  to  encourage  a 
monarch  naturally  so  suspicious  and  politic  to  pay  a  transmarine  visit 
within  a  quarter  of  a  year  from  the  date  of  his  hostile  landing  in  that  king- 
dom, seems  almost  incredible,  and  can  only  he  accounted  for  by  the  pro- 
digious power  and  vindictiveness  attributed  to  him  personally.  But  Nor- 
mandy is  the  near  neighbour  of  England ;  and,  on  the  slightest  intimation 
from  bdo  and  Fitzosborne,  William  could  speedily  return  in  person  to 
exert  his  dreaded  powr  in  repressing  re' ellion,  and  to  manifest  his  ter- 
rible vindictiveness  in  pun'shing  the  revolted  ;  how  then  are  we  to  account 
for  the  personal  absence  of  the  king  almost  immediately  producing  revolt 
in  England]    Are  we  f  j  suspect  that  William  absented  himself  purponely 


170 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


to  j.ncoiiraiTe  revoit,  not  doubling  tliat  the  English,  deprived  of  their  best 
and  most  zealous  frirnds  anil  leaders,  who  were  in  close  attendance  upon 
him,  would  easily  l)e  put  down  by  his  victorious  army,  and  that  he  would 
thus,  without  any  risk  to  his  new  conquest,  acquire  a  plausible  right  to 
make  a  vast  and  sweeping  transfer  of  the  property  of  the  kingdom  from 
Saxon  to  Norman  hands  1    Or  shall  we  rather  suppose  that  the  Saxon  pop- 
ulation willingly  remained  quiet  while  the  personal  presence  of  the  stern 
and   strict  conqueror  prevented  his  officers  and  soldiers  from  trampling 
and  oppressing  the  conquered,  and  that  the  latter  were  so  ill-treated  during 
his  absence  as  to  be  driven  into  an  utter  recklessness  of  consequences  ? 
The  first  supposition,  though  anything  but  honourable  to  William,  tallies 
indifferently  well  with  his  dark  and  deep  policy  ;  the  latter  is  in  the  very 
nature  of  things  highly  probable.     Perhaps,  however,  the  truth  lies  be- 
tween.    William's  wishes  a'ld  views  would,  no  doubt,  govern  the  chiel 
men  among  the  Normans  left  in  England,  as  to  the  greater  or  less  degree 
of  severity  they  should  exercise  during  his  absence  in  keeping  the  Nor- 
man soldiery  in  order;  and  the  hitler  woidd  be  abundantly  ready  to  avail 
themselves  of  any  relaxation  in  the  strictness  of  discipline  to  which  they 
had  been  accustomed,  without  greatly  troubling  themselves  to  dive  into 
the  politic  motives  in  which  that  relaxation  had  its  origin.     And  this  view 
of  the  case  is  the  more  reasonable,  because,  while  policy  obliged  William 
to  conciliate  the  Saxons  at  the  coniMiencetnent  of  his  reign,  the  vastness 
and  the  number  of  tlie  Norman  claims  upon  him  must  have  made  him 
much  in  want  of  more  extended  means  to  satisfy  them  than  his  early 
ostentation  of  lenity  had  left  him;  and  certainly  the  Norman  knights  and 
leaders,  who  were  so  sure  to  profit  by  new  confiscations  of  Saxon  prop- 
erty.  would  not  be  slow  to  provoke  the  Saxon  population,  by  every  insult 
and  injury  in  their  power,  to  such  conduct  as  would  lead  to  confiscation. 
This  view  of  the  case,  finally,  is  much  strengthened  by  the  improbability 
that  so  suspicious  and  politic  a  person  as  W  illiam  would  so  early  have  ex- 
posed his  new  conquest  to  danger,  however  guarded  against  by  the  trusti- 
ness of  those  left  to  rule  for  him,  in  mere  childish  impatience  to  dazzle 
the  eyes  of  his  ancient  subjects  with  his  new  splendour,  and  without  some 
deep  and  important  ulterior  view. 

From  whatever  cause,  however,  it  is  quite  certain  that  very  soon  after 
the  conqueror's  departure  from  Normandy  the  English  began  to  exhibit 
(symptoms  of  impatience  under  their  yoke.  Kent,  which  had  been  the  first 
to  submit  to  him  after  the  great  battle  of  Hastings,  was  now  also  the  first 
to  take  advantage  of  his  absence  and  rebel  against  his  authority.  Headed 
by  Eustace,  count  of  Boulogne,  they  not  only  did  much  damage  in  the  open 
country,  but  even  had  the  boldness  to  attempt  the  capture  of  Dover  castle, 
and  ainmst  at  the  same  time  Edric,  the  Forester,  whose  possessions  lay 
towards  the  Welch  border,  leagued  himself  with  some  discontented  Wekii 
chieftains,  being  induced  to  do  so  by  the  wanton  insolence  with  which 
some  of  the  Norman  leaders  in  the  neighbourhood  had  spoiled  his  proper- 
ty. These  attempts  at  openly  opposing  the  Normans  were  too  hastily  and 
loosely  made  to  be  successful,  but  they  served  to  fan  into  a  flame  the 
smouldering  fires  of  discontent  which  secretly,  but  no  less  steadily,  burned 
in  the  hearts  of  the  people.  Not  merely  to  revolt  against  the  Norman  rule, 
but  to  rise  on  the  same  day  in  every  village  and  town  in  the  nation  ano 
massacre  the  Normans  to  a  man,  was  now  made  the  object  of  a  general 
conspiracy  among  the  Saxon  population ;  and  so  general  and  so  determined 
was  the  frenzied  desire  to  carry  this  object  into  effect,  that  Earl  Coxo 
having  refused  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  his  numerous  serfs,  was  ac 
tually  put  to  death  as  an  enemy  to  his  country  and  an  ally  of  the  Normar. 
oppressors. 

Information  of  the  rebellious  state  of  his  new  kingdom  was  speediU 
conveyed  to  William,  who  hastened  over  and  applied  himself  to  the  tasc 


TME   TllEASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


171 


01  punisliiiig  tlii(i>o  who  ])a(l  openly  revolted,  :uk1  of  intimidating  those 
who,  though  sull  ill  outward  appearance  'oyiil,  niiglit  be  couleinplatiii;i 
similar  course.     The  estates  of  llie  revolted  were,  as  a  matter  of  course 
coiUiscuted  ;  and  William  thus  obtained  a  laiire  increase  of  sure  means  to 

S ratify  the  rapacity  of  his  myrmidons  and  to  insure  ilieir  zeal  and  fidelity. 
lit  while  he  thus  availed  himself  to  the  utmost  of  a  plausible  reason  for 
confiscation  or  ninnder,  and  at  the  very  moment  when  he  at  once  insulted 
and  oppressed  the  Saxon  people  by  reimposing  the  tax  of  danegeli,  «o  es 
pecially  onerous  and  odious  to  them,  he  with  consummate  art  preserved  an 
appearance  of  moderation  and  of  strita  adherence  to  justice!,  by  onlerinj; 
the  restoration  to  their  potssessions  of  Saxons  who  had  been  violently  and 
unjustly  dispossessed  during  his  absence  in  Normandy.  By  this  plau»<ible 
measure  he  at  once  taught  his  subordinates  that  he  would  allo^v  no  wrong 
to  be  done  but  with  his  own  sanction,  procured  a  certain  popularity  among 
the  Saxons,  and  obtained  a  sort  of  anticipative  counter  plea  against  the 
complaints  that  might  be  made  of  his  subsequent  injustice,  even  though  it 
should  be  displayed  towards  the  very  proprietors  whom  he  now  restored. 
A.D.  1068. — The  activity,  watchfulness,  and  severity  of  William  ren- 
dered the  general  rising  of  the  Saxons  wholly  impracticable;  but  the  de- 
sire for  it  had  spread  too  widely  to  pass  away  wiltiont  some  appeals  to 
arms,  however  ill-concerted  and  partial.  The  inhabitants  of  Exeter,  a  city 
which  had  always  been  among  the  greatest  sufferers  from  invaders,  and 
in  which  great  influence  was  possessed  by  Githa,  mother  of  the  deceased 
Harold,  ventured  openly  to  br.tve  the  resentment  of  William  by  refusing 
to  admit  a  Norman  garrison  within  its  walls;  and  wh^n  the  men  of  Exeter 
armed  in  support  of  this  determination,  they  we'c;  instantly  joined  by  a 
vast  number  of  Devonshire  and  Cornwall  mer .  But  the  more  prudent 
among  their  leaders,  greatly  influenced,  no  doubt,  by  selfish  c(msiderations, 
no  sooner  heard  that  William  was  approaching  them  with  a  vast  body  of 
his  disciplined  and  unsparing  troops,  than  they  counselled  submission,  and 
induced  their  followers  to  send  the  king  hostages  for  their  good  behaviour. 
But  as  it  is  ever  far  easier  to  excite  the  multitude  to  revolt  than  to  lay  the 
spirit  of  violence  when  once  raised,  the  people  broke  out  anew  even  after 
the  delivery  of  the  hostages.  They  soon  found  they  had  to  do  with  one 
who  had  little  inclination  to  halt  at  half  measures.  He  immediately  drew 
up  his  force  under  the  walls  of  the  place,  and  by  way  of  showing  the  re- 
volted people  how  little  mercy  they  had  to  expect  from  him,  he  barbarous- 
ly caused  the  eyes  of  one  of  the  hostages  to  be  put  out.  This  stern  and 
savage  severity  had  all  the  effect  he  expected  frvn  it;  tlie  people  instant- 
ly submitted  themselves  to  his  mercy,  and  he  contrnited  himself  with  plac- 
ing a  strong  guard  in  the  city.  Githa,  whose  wealth  would  have  furnished 
a  rich  booty  for  William  and  his  followers;  w!\!5  fortunate  enough  to  escape 
to  Flanders  with  the  whole  of  her  treasures.  The  submissive  example 
of  Exeter  was  speedily  followed  by  Cornwall,  and  Wiliians  having  strong 
ly  garrisoned  it,  returned  with  his  army  to  Winchester,  where  he  then 
Jield  his  court,  and  being  now  joined  by  Queen  Matilda,  who  had  not  pre- 
viously thought  it  safe  to  visit  her  new  kingdom,  he  caused  her  coronation 
to  be  solemnized  with  much  pomp.  Soon  after  this  ceremony  the  queen 
presented  her  husband  with  their  fourth  son,  Henry ;  the  three  elder 
brothers  of  this  prince,  Robert,  Richard,  and  William,  were  born  and  still 
remained  in  Normandy.  The  signal  success  and  ease  with  which  the  king 
had  quelled  the  revolt  in  the  west  did  not  prevent  disturbances  arising  in 
other  parts  of  the  country.  In  fact,  such  disturbanoes  were  almost  inevi- 
table, for  the  Norman  chiefs  who  were  posted  in  various  parts  of  tiie  king- 
dom were  far  too  much  interested  in  causing  confiscations,  to  imitate 
even  tha  pr^^lences  made  to  moderation  by  their  prince,  and  their  exactions 
and  insolence  were  such  as  to  be  well  calculated  to  excite  the  disconu  nt 
and  resistance  of  a  far  more  patient  and  orderly  people  than  the  Saxons. 


172 


THR  TRRASUIIY  OP  HISTORY. 


In  the  north  where,  bein^  nmole  from  the  kingf'a  immediate  authority,  tho 
Norman  nobles  had  probably  carried  their  lireiise  to  an  intolerable  extent, 
the  people  were  enraged  to  so  bold  a  temper,  that  Edwni  and  Morcar 
thought  it  not  impolitic  to  place  themselves  at  their  head ;  aniicipating,  it 
would  seem,  an  effectual  opposition  to  the  hated  rule  of  the  invader.  Their 
cause  seemed  the  more  likely  to  be  successful,  because,  in  addition  to  the 
number  and  resolution  of  the  Saxons  in  revolt,  they  had  the  promise  ol 
support  from  Malcolm,  king  of  Scotland,  Blelhyn,  prince  of  Wales,  who 
was  related  to  them,  and  Sweyn,  kinjr  of  Denmark,  who  had  a  personal 
and  peculiar  interest  in  the  s>:'    is  of  he  Saxon  cause. 

The  conduct  of  Edwin  and  Morcar  on  William's  first  invasion,  when 
they  only  withdrew  their  opposition  on  perceiving  that  thev  could  no  lon- 
ger rely  upon  the  zealous  co- operation  of  the  people,  sumciently  attests 
their  sincere  love  of  country.  But  we  must  not  omit  to  state  that  on  this 
occasion  of  rising  in  the  north  the  noblemen  in  question  were  to  a  con- 
siderable extent  it'fluenced  by  private  animosity.  How  seldom,  alas! 
is  even  the  pure  t  patriotism  free  from  all  taint  .^f  selfish  and  personal 
feeling ! 

To  nigh-spirited  nobles  like  Edwin  and  Moicar,  itie  more  indications  of 
distrust  which  William  could  not,  with  all  his  policy,  wholly  avoid  giving, 
would  have  been  highly  offensive  in  themselves.  But  as  regarded  Edwin, 
♦he  distrust  manifested  by  the  king  assumed  a  deeper  tint  of  offence,  inas- 
m.-'ih  as  he  manifested  it  by  an  arbitrary  and  capricious  refusal  to  perforin 
the  p.on.ise  lie  had  made  on  ascending  the  throne,  to  give  to  that  noble- 
man the  h  and  of  his  daughter  in  marriage.  This  affront,  implying  so  much 
distrust,  •  lid  certainly  giving  the  rejected  suitor  and  his  brothergood  reason 
to  infer  I'lu  foregone  determination  of  still  further  and  more  direct  proofs 
of  the  king's  ill-will,  undoubtedly  had  its  iiuluence  in  causing  the  brothers 
openly  to  put  themselves  at  the  head  of  the  present  revolt. 

However  little  reason  William  had  to  expect  a  new  outbreak  so  soon 
after  the  example  he  had  made  in  the  west,  he  was  not,  in  the  military 
sense  of  the  word  at  least,  surprised.  His  troops  were  constantly  keptir 
marching  order,  and  though  from  their  vast  number  they  were  distributed 
over  a  large  space  of  country,  their  lines  of  communication  were  so  ar 
ranged  that  a  vast  number  could  on  the  shortest  notice  be  assembled  in 
one  compact  body.  The  instunt,  therefore,  that  he  was  informed  of  this 
new  revolt,  he  set  out  for  the  north  by  forced  marches,  caused  Warwick 
and  Nottingham  castles  to  be  strongly  garrisoned  under  the  respective  com- 
mand  of  Henry  de  Beaumont  and  William  Peveril,  and  reached  York  with 
such  unexpected  celerity,  that  he  appeared  in  front  of  the  astonished  in- 
surgents before  they  had  received  any  of  the  foreign  aid  upon  which  thoy 
had  so  greatly  reckoned  when  formi ""  their  plans.  Edwin  and  Morcar, 
together  with  another  very  powerful  noble  who  had  taken  part  with  them, 
wisely  gave  up  all  thought  of  making  any  resistance  with  their  very  in- 
ferior force,  and  were  received  into  the  king's  peace  and  pardon.  He  not 
only  spared  them  in  person,  but  in  their  possessions  also ;  still  confisca- 
tions were  too  essential  a  part  of  his  means  of  consolidating  and  perpetu- 
ating his  power,  to  be  generally  dispensed  with.  While  the  leading  men 
were  thus  allowed  to  escape  impoverishment  as  well  as  the  more  severe 
punishment  of  rebellion,  their  humbler  and,  comparatively,  unoffending 
followers  were  mulcted  with  the  most  merciless  severity.  The  whole 
secret  of  his  clemency  to  the  three  powerful  leaders  whom  we  have  named 
seems  to  have  been  his  doubt  whether  he  could  just  then  crush  them  with- 
out a  risk  more  than  proportioned  to  the  gain. 

The  failure  of  this  rebellion  at  the  north,  and  the  peace  made  between 
William  and  Malcolm  of  Scotland,  which  :.  emed  to  cut  off  all  hope  of  fu- 
ture aid  from  that  monarch,  impressed  the  whole  nation  with  a  hopeless 
«ei'se  of  complete  and  unfriended  subjection.    The  multitude  muttered  thp 


THE  TRRA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


I7:i 


oeepeurHcs  1(1  which  tlioydart'iliiol  give  Ion  N'riitl«?r;inuo,iiii(lprf|>;\iv<lloU)iI 
on  111  iheir  orlinary  routine,  and  bear  m'  or  less  opprAHoion  at*  the  ca- 
price or  lilt:  policy  of  their  tyrants  might  .Kiennino.  Bui  the  hopt'le»»- 
neas  of  biMV(>r  and  more  passionate  spirits  was  of  a  less  |)as8ive  kind.  Un- 
able to  free  their  land  from  tlie  rule  of  the  <»p|)res8or,  they  at  Icist  had 
philosophy  enoiiirh  to  abandon  it  and  srck  freer  homes  in  8tran(t<rcliinci, 
whence  they  could  return  should  a  brighter  day  beam  upon  England. 
Among  those  who  thus  voluntarily  went  into  e.xile  was  Edgar  Alheling, 
who,  with  his  sisters  Margaret  and  Christina,  sought  peace  in  Scotland. 
Malcolm  not  only  showed  every  kindness  to  the  unfortunate  exiles,  but 
married  Margaret ;  and  partly  on  account  of  the  connection  he  thus  formed 
with  the  most  illustrious  of  the  Saxon  families,  thouf^h  mainly,  perhaps, 
with  the  politic  view  of  strengthening  his  kingdom,  he  gave  reaily  shelter 
to  nil  Saxons,  of  whatever  rank,  who  sought  it  in  his  dominions. 

If  many  of  the  Knglish  were  driven  into  exile  by  despair  of  being  able 
to  free  their  country,  not  a  few  of  the  Normans  began  to  grow  weary  of 
living  in  a  land  so  frequently  disturbed,  and  among  a  people  to  whom  they 
fell  that  they  were  so  thoroughly  hateful  that  their  lives  as  well  as  pos 
sessions  wo.ild  infallibly  be  forfeited  should  that  people  get  the  upper  hand 
of  them  even  for  a  single  day.  This  weariness,  moreover,  was  by  no 
means  exclusively  confined  to  the  meaner  sort.  Many  of  the  higher  chief- 
tains, and  among  them  Humphrey  de  Teliol  and  Hugh  de  Gratesmil,  re- 
quested tlieir  dismissal  and  permission  to  return  home.  The  king  could 
scarcely  lefuse  compli.ince  with  such  a  request,  but  he  revokcMl  his  grants 
in  the  case  of  all  who  made  it,  telling  them  that  the  land  and  its  defenders 
must  go  together.  And  though  some  of  his  bravest  leaders  left  him  upon 
these  unfriendly  terms,  he  had  little  occasion  to  regret  them,  for  his  liber- 
ality and  ample  means  of  displaying  it  insured  him  abundance  of  now  ad- 
venturers, not.  merely  willing  but  eager  to  enlist  under  his  banner. 

A.  D.  10C9. — The  departure  of  so  many  malcontents  from  England  had 
by  no  means  the  effect,  as  it  might  seem  certain  to  have,  of  diminishing 
the  chances  of  disturbances.  The  voluntary  exiles  carried  their  griefs 
and  their  rancour  with  them,  and  lost  no  opportunity  of  making  friends 
for  England  and  foes  for  England's  Norman  tyrants.  Nor  did  they  want 
for  a  rallyiiiir  point.  When  Harold  fell,  bravely  battling  against  the  inva- 
ders, his  three  sons,  Godwin,  Edmond,  and  Magnus,  sought  shelter  in  Ire- 
land. They  were  well  received  by  the  princes  and  chiefs  of  that  wild 
country,  tind  soon  became  very  popular  among  them.  Enraged  at  the 
cause  of  tlioir  exile  from  England,  and  constantly  surrounded  by  such 
practical  lovers  of  strife  as  the  Irish  princes  of  that  time,  they  naturally 
began  to  contemplate  a  descent  upon  England,  and  to  calculate  what  aid 
they  could  rely  upon  beyond  that  which  Ireland's  own.  wild  chieftains  and 
fitrife-loving  kerns  could  afford  them.  Denmark  they  could  with  tolerable 
certainty  depend  upon ;  and  they  hoped  that  both  Scotland  and  Wales 
would  be  induced  to  aid  them  when  the  strife  should  once  fairly  be  afoot. 
Encouraged  by  these  confident  expectations  of  aid,  they  landed  with  a  con- 
siderable b.;t  disorderly  force  upon  the  coast  of  Devonshire.  But  instead 
of  finding  the  English  peasantry  flocking  around  them,  grateful  or  their 
coming  and  eager  to  join  in  their  enterprise,  they  on  the  contrary,  had 
scarcely  set  foot  upon  the  shore  when  they  found  themselves  vigorously 
assailed  by  the  trained  hirelings  of  the  Norman,  under  the  command  of 
Brian,  son  of  the  count  of  Brittany,  who  worsted  them  in  several  petty 
bati'.es,  at^''  at  length  drove  them  back,  with  much  loss  and  some  disgrace 
to  their  vessels. 

Unsuccessful  as  this  attempt  of  the  sons  of  Harold  was  in  itself,  it  ser- 
ved as  a  signal  for  the  numerous  risings,  especially  in  the  northern  part  of 
the  kingt'on  .  The  Northumbrians  rose,  took  Durham  by  surprise,  and 
slew  upwards  of  seven  hundred  men,  among  whom  was  the  governor 


174 


TIIR  TRRARUaV  OF  HtSTORY. 


Robnrt  <\c  Comyii,  to  wluMe  negligflfico  tlio  Siuoni  wcro  snid  to  ha*" 
bc»!ii  iniiiiily  iiidehtrd  for  Ihi-ir  siu-ccsn.  From  DiirhHtn  ih«!  iiicliniilion  >o 
revolt  Hnrwad  to  York.  Thwrc  the  governor,  Robtri  Filz-Riclianl,  a  \ 
many  or  his  peopio  w(;r(i  slain  ;  nnd  lli«  second  in  coniinuiid,  VVilliiii « 
Mallet,  9«'(:un!d  Ihw  raHile,  to  wliirli  th«  rebids  promptly  laid  •i-igc— 
They  wcro  aidc'd  in  this  bold  atti-mpt  by  th«  Dan«»,  wlio  now  landed  from 
threo  hundred  ships,  and  by  the  appear.ini-e  among  them  of  Kdear  Alhe- 
ling,  who  was  accompanied  by  several  Saxon  exiles  of  rank  andsomo  i(i- 
flnential  Scots,  who  promised  the  aid  of  large  numbers  of  their  country- 
men. The  castle  of  York  was  so  strong  and  so  well  garrisoned,  that  it 
is  probable  it  might  easily  lmve.lield  out  against  all  the  rude  and  unscien- 
liflc  attacks  that  the  revolted  Northumbrians  and  their  allies  could  have 
made  upon  it,  but  for  an  accident.  VVjIliam  Mallet,  the  gallant  di.fender 
of  the  castle,  perceiving  that  some  houses  were  situated  so  near  as  to 
command  a  portion  of  the  w, ills,  ordered  lliern  to  be  fired  lest  they  should 
serve  as  works  for  the  besiegers.  Hut  (ire  is  a  servant  as  uncertain  and 
uncontrollable  as  it  is  swift.  A  brisk  wind  carried  the  flames  beyond  the 
nt)U8es  which  were  specially  devoted  to  their  destroying  ministry  ;  every- 
where the  flames  found  abundant  fuel,  nearly  ;.ll  the  buildings  being  of 
wood,  and  the  conflagration,  defying  the  inadequate  means  by  which  the 
people  tried  to  stop  it,  destroyed  nearly  the  whole  of  the  city,  which  even 
at  that  time  was  very  populous.  The  alarm  and  confusion  which  were 
caused  by  this  event  enabled  the  rebels  to  carry  the  castle  by  storm  ;  and 
scarcely  a  man  of  the  garrison,  numbering  nearly  three  thousand,  was 
spared  alive.  Hereward,  an  East  Anglian  nobleman,  at  the  same  time 
wrought  much  confusion  and  difficulty  to  the  Normans  ;  cutting  off  their 
marchinnr  parties  and  retiring  wiili  their  spoils  to  the  Isle  of  Kly.  Somer- 
set and  Dorset  were  in  arms  to  a  man,  and  Devon  and  Cornwall  also  rose, 
with  the  exception  of  Exeter,  whicdi  honourably  testified  its  sense  of  the 
clemency  twice  shown  to  all  its  population,  save  one  un.'orlunatc  hostage, 
and  held  its  gates  closed  for  the  King  even  against  its  nearest  neighbours. 
Edric  the  Forester,  who  had  many  causes  of  quarrel  with  the  Normans, 
allied  himself  with  a  numerous  body  of  Welsh,  and  not  only  maintained 
himself  against  the  Norman  force  under  Fitzosborne  and  Earl  Briant,  but 
also  laid  seige  to  the  castle  of  Shrewsbury. 

When  to  these  instances  of  open  and  powerful  rebellion  we  add  innu- 
merable petty  revolts  in  other  parts  and  the  universal  hostility  and  rest- 
lessness of  the  Saxons,  it  will  be  admitted  that  there  was  enough  in  the 
state  of  the  country  to  have  made  the  boldest  of  inonarchs  anxious.  And 
William  was  anxious,  but  undismayed.  To  his  eagle  eye  a  single  glance 
revealed  where  force  was  absolutely  requisite,  and  where  bribery  would 
still  more  readily  succeed.  To  the  Danes,  who  were  headed  by  Osborne, 
brother  of  the  king  of  Denmark,  and  by  Harold  and  Canute,  sons  of  that 
monarch,  he  well  know  that  the  freedom  of  the  country  was  a  mere  pre 
text,  and  that  their  real  incentive  to  strife  was  desire  of  gain.  Tiiese  he 
at  once  resolved  to  buy  off;  and  he  quickly  jucceeded  in  getting  them  to 
retire  to  Denmark,  by  paying  them  a  sum  of  money  and  giving  them 
leave  to  plunder  the  coast  on  their  way.  Deserted  by  so  considerable  an 
ally  the  native  leaders  became  alarmed,  and  William  found  no  difficulty 
in  persuading  Waliheof,  who  had  been  made  governor  of  York  by  the 
Saxuiis  on  their  takingf  the  castle  by  storm,  to  submit  on  promise  of  fa- 
vour; a  promise  which  the  king  strictly  kept.  Cospatric  followed  the 
example  and  was  made  earl  of  Northumberland  ;  and  Edric  the  Forester 
also  submitted  and  was  taken  into  favour.  Edgar  Atheling  had  no  course 
open  to  him  but  to  hasten  back  to  Scotland,  for,  while  the  loss  of  all  his 
allies  rendered  any  strugjirle  on  his  part  so  hopeless  that  it  would  have 
been  ridiculous,  he  feared,  and  with  great  apparent  reason,  that  his  Saxon 
blood  royal  would  incite  William  to  put  him  to  death.     The  king  of  Scot- 


m 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


176 


land,  to  whose  tardy  coming  the  confederates  in  some  degree  owed  their 
ill  success,  seeing  that  the  northern  confcderHcy  was  broken  up,  march- 
ed his  troops  back  again.  The  failure  in  the  north  strurit  terror  into  the 
rebels  throughout  the  kingdom,  and  Willinm  saw  all  his  late  opponent* 
subject  to  him,  save  Hereward,  who  still  maintained  his  partizan  war 
fare — n(»t  quite  exclusively  preying  upon  the  Normans  it  is  to  be  feared- 
awing  his  protection  to  the  difficulty  of  accebs  to  his  swampy  retreat 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  RBION  or  WILLIAM  I.   (CONTINUED') 

n..  D.  1070  — Having  by  force  and  policy  dissipated  the  confederacy 
which  had  threatened  him,  William  now  determined  to  show  that  what- 
ever kindness  and  favour  he  riiight  extend  to  individual  Saxons,  whether 
from  genuine  good  feeling  or  froni  deep  policy,  the  great  body  of  the  peo- 
ple had  no  mercy  to  hope  from  him.  And  as  the  north  had  been  espe- 
cially troublesome  to  him,  so  he  selected  that  part  to  he  the  first  to  feel 
how  terrible  his  wrath  could  be.  Between  the  rivers  Humber  and  Tees, 
a  vast  expanse  of  sixty  miles  of  country  as  fertile  as  it  was  beautiful 
was  by  his  stern  order  utterly  laid  waste.  The  cattle  and  auch  other 
property  as  could  be  conveyed  away  became  the  booty  of  the  Norman 
soldiery  ;  the  houses  were  burned  to  the  ground  and  the  wretched  inhabi- 
tants left  to  perish  upon  their  desolated  lands,  without  shelter,  without 
food  and  without  hope  or  pity.  Vast  numbers  of  them  made  their  way 
into  the  lowlands  of  Scotland,  but  many  there  were  who  could  not  do  so, 
or  were  so  attached  to  the  site  of  their  once  happy  homes,  that  they  re- 
mained in  the  woods,  and  perished  slowly  by  hunger  or  the  terrible  dis- 
eases produced  by  exposure  to  the  elements.  It  is  calculated  that  by  this 
one  act  of  merciless  severity  not  fewer  than  a  hundred  thousand  Saxons 
miserably  perished ! 

Though  the  north  was  thus  especially  marked  out  for  the  exterminat 
ing  rigour  of  the  Conqueror,  the  rest  of  the  country  was  by  no  means  al- 
lowed to  escape.  The  unsuccessful  revolts  had  placed  nearly  all  the 
great  landholders  of  the  nation  at  his  mercy ;  for  they  being  especially 
interested  in  throwing  off  his  yoke,  had  nearly  to  a  man  been  implicated 
cither  by  personal  appearance  in  the  field  or  by  furnishing  supplies. 
Hitherto  the  king,  as  a  ma'ter  of  policy,  had  affected  somethir.^  like  mod- 
eration and  mercy  in  put'ing  the  laws  of  attainder  and  ferfeiture  into  ef- 
fect. But  now  he  no  longer  needed  to  pursue  that  wily  policy  ;  the  un- 
successful attempfs  to  shake  off  his  authority  had  terminated  in  making 
it  absolute  and  even  unassailable.  The  whole  nation  lay  bound  hand 
and  foot  at  his  pleasure,  and  he  proceeded  so  to  dispose  of  the  lands  that 
he  in  fact  became  the  one  great  landlord  of  the  n.ition.  No  one  knew 
better  than  he  did  that  the  property  of  a  nation  is  its  power;  and  that 
power  of  the  Saxons  he  now  transferred  to  the  Normans  in  addition  to 
their  terrible  power  of  the  sword.  No  antiquity  of  family,  no  excellence 
of  character,  even,  could  save  the  Saxon  proprietor  from  being  despoiled 
of  his  possessions.  The  more  powerful  and  popular  the  family,  the  more 
necessary  was  its  abasement  and  impoverishment  to  the  completion  of 
William's  purpose  ;  he  who  had  taken  any  share  in  the  revolts  was  mulct- 
ed of  his  property,  and  assured  that  he  owed  it  to  the  king's  great  lenity 
that  his  life  was  spared ;  and  he  who  had  taken  no  such  part,  but  was  con- 
victed of  the  crime  of  being  wealthy,  was  equally  despoiled,  lest  his 
wealth  should  at  some  future  time  lead  him  into  rebellious  practices. 

Having  thus  effected  the  utter  spoliation  of  the  noble  and  weaUhy  Sax- 


176 


THE  TREA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


ons,  William's  next  care  was  to  dispose  of  the  lands  of  England  in  such 
wise  as  to  give  himself  the  most  absolute  power  over  them  ;  and  here  he 
had  no  need  of  any  inventive  genius ;  he  had  merely  to  apply  to  England 
the  old  feudal  law  of  Franceand  his  native  Normandy.  Having  largely 
added  to  the  already  large  demesnes  of  the  crown,  he  divided  all  the 
forfeited  lands— which  might  almost  without  hyperbole  be  said  to  be 
all  the  lands  of  England— into  baronies,  which  baronies  he  conferred 
npon  his  bravest  and  most  trusty  leaders,  not  in  fee  simple,  but  as 
fiefs  held  upon  certain  payments  or  services,  for  the  most  part  military. 
The  individual  grants  thus  made  were  infinitely  too  vast  to  be  actually 
held  in  use  by  the  individual  grantees,  who,,  therefore,  parcelled  them 
oul.  to  knights  and  vassals,  who  held  of  them  by  the  same  suit  and 
service  by  which  they  held  from  their  lord  paramount,  the  king.  And 
that  the  feudal  law  might  universally  obtain  in  England,  and  that  there 
might  be  no  exception  or  qualification  to  the  paramount  lordship  of  the 
king  over  the  whole  land,  even  the  few  Saxon  proprietors  who  were 
not  directly  and  by  attainder  deprived  of  their  lands  were  compelled  to 
hold  them  by  suit  and  service  from  some  Norman  baron,  who  in  his  turn 
did  suit  and  service  for  tiiem  to  the  king. 

Consider!  ig  the  superstition  of  the  age,  it  might  have  been  supposed 
that  the  church  would  have  been  exempted  from  William's  tyrannous  ar- 
rangement. But  though,  as  we  shall  presently  have  an  occasion  to  show, 
he  was  anxious  to  exalt  the  power  of  Rome,  he  was  not  the  less  de- 
♦ermined  thai  even  Rome  should  bo  second  to  him  in  power  in  his  own  do- 
minions. He  called  upon  the  bishops  and  abbots  for  quit-rents  in  peace, 
and  for  their  quota  of  knights  and  men-at-arms  wiienhe  should  be  at  war, 
in  proportion  to  their  possessions  attached  to  sees  or  abbeys,  as  the  case 
might  be.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  clergy  bewailed  the  tyranny  of  the 
king,  which,  now  that  it  affected  themselves,  they  discovered  to  be  quite 
intolerable ;  and  it  was  equally  in  vain  that  the  pope,  who  had  so  zeal- 
ously aided  and  encouraged  William  in  his  invasion,  remonstrated  upon 
his  thus  confounding  the  clergy  with  the  laity.  William  had  the  powei 
of  the  sword,  and  wailings  and  remonstrances  were  alike  ineffectual  to 
work  any  change  upon  his  iron  will.  As  by  compelling  the  undeprived 
lay  Saxons  to  hold  under  Norman  lords  he  so  completely  subjected  them 
as  to  render  revolt  impracticable,  so  he  took  care  that  henceforth  all 
ecclesiastical  dignities  should  be  exclusively  conferred  upon  Normans, 
who,  indeed  were  by  their  great  superiority  in  learning  far  more  fitted 
for  them,  as  was  shown  by  the  great  number  of  Norman  compared  to 
Saxon  bishops  even  before  the  invasion. 

But  there  was  one  Saxon,  Stigand,  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
whose  authority  was  too  great  not  to  be  obnoxious  to  the  suspicions  and 
fears  of  William,  the  more  especially  as  Stigand  had  both  wealth  and 
powerful  connections  in  addition  to  his  oflicial  dignity,  and  was  a  man  of 
both  talent  and  '  ourage.  These  considerations,  while  they  made  Wil- 
liam desirous  of  ruining  the  primate,  at  the  same  time  made  him  dissemble 
his  intentions  until  he  could  securely  as  well  as  surely  carry  them  into 
effect.  He  consequently  seemed,  by  every  civility,  to  endeavour  to  ef- 
face from  the  primate's  recollection  the  affront  offered  to  him  at  the  coro- 
nation ;  and  a  superficial  observer,  or  one  iinacquainted  with  the  king's 
wily  as  well  as  resolute  nature,  wouiJ  for  a  long  time  have  imagined  Sti- 
gand to  have  been  one  of  his  prime  favourites — for  a  Saxon.  But  when 
William  had  subdued  the  rest  of  the  nation  so  completely  that  he 
had  no  fear  of  his  attempt  upon  Stigand  eliciting  any  powerful  or  perilous 
opposition,  the  ruin  of  the  primate  was  at  once  determined  upon  and 
wrought.  And  circumstances  furnished  him  with  an  instrument  by 
whose  means  he  was  able  to  accomplish  his  unjust  work  with  at  least 
some  appearance  of  judicial  regularity. 


THE  TREASURY  0FHI3T0RY. 


m 


Pope  Alexander  II.,  whose  ceuntcnance  and  encouragement  had  tender- 
ed W'illium  fjrooii  service  in  his  invasion,  anxious  to  leave  no  means  un* 
tried  of  increasing  the  papai  influence  in  England,  had  onlj'  awaited  Wil- 
liam's seeming  perfect  establishment  upon  the  throne,  and  he  now  sent  over 
Ermenfroy,  a  favourite  bishop,  on  his  legate.  Tliis  prelate,  who  was  the 
first  Ir  lie  ever  sent  to  England,  and  the  king  served  each  others'  ends  to 
admin,  n.  William,  by  receiving  the  legate  at  once,  confirmed  the 
friendly  j'eeling  of  tiie  papal  court,  and  secured  the  services  of  an  authori- 
ty competent  to  deal  with  the  primate  and  other  prelates  in  ecclesiastical 
form,  and  nominally  upon  ecclesiastical  grounds,  while  in  reality  merely 
wreaking  the  vengeance  of  the  temporal  monarch;  and  the  legale,  while 
serving  as  an  instrument  of  the  king's  individual  purposes,  exalted  both 
his  own  power  and  that  of  the  pope  in  the  eyes  of  the  people.  Having 
formed  a  court  of  bishop  and  abbots,  with  the  assistance  of  the  cardinals 
John  and  Peter,  he  cited  Stigand  to  answer  to  three  charges  ;  viz:  of  hold- 
ing the  bishopric  of  Winchester  together  with  the  primacy  of  Canterbury; 
of  having  officiated  in  the  pall  of  iiis  predecessor;  and  of  having  received 
his  own  pall  from  Benedict  IX.,  who  was  alledged  to  having  intruded  him- 
self into  tiie  papacy.  The  substance  of  this  last  charge  the  reader  will 
doubtless  recognize  as  the  pretext  upon  which  WiUiam  refused  to  be 
crowned  by  Stigand  ;  and  all  the  charges  are  so  trivial  that  the  mere  men 
tion  of  them  must  sufficiently  show  the  animus  in  which  they  were  made. 
Even  the  most  serious  charge,  that  of  being  a  pluralist,  was  then  con  oar- 
atively  trivial ;  the  practice  being  frequent,  rarely  noticed  at  all,  and  n  iver 
visited  by  any  more  severe  condemnation  than  of  being  compelled  to  re- 
sign one  of  the  sees. 

When  so  powerful  and  wilful  a  monarch  as  William  had  determined 
upon  the  ruin  of  a  subject,  however,  it  matters  but  little  how  trivial  may 
be  the  charge  or  how  inconclusive  the  evidence  ;  Stigand  was  degraded 
from  his  dignity  by  the  obsequious  legate,  and  thus  thrown  helpless  into 
the  hands  of  the  king,  who  not  merely  confiscated  all  his  possessions, 
but  also  committed  him  to  prison,  where  he  lingered  in  most  undeserved 
suffering  and  neglect  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

Having  thus  easily  crushed  the  chief  and  by  far  the  most  important 
Saxon  personage  of  tlie  hierarchy,  William  proceeded  to  bestow  the 
same  hard  treatment  upon  bishops  Agelric  and  Agehvare,  who,  being  for- 
mally deposed  by  the  obsequious  legate,  were  imprisoned  by  the  king 
Egelwin,  bishop  of  Durham,  was  marked  out  for  the  same  fate,  but  he 
had  timely  warning  and  escaped  from  the  kingdom.  Al  •  -i",  archbishop 
of  York,  was  so  grieved  that  in  having  performed  the  cei  lony  of  Wil- 
liam's coronation  he  had  even  incidentally  aided  in  raising  up  so  unspar- 
ing an  enemy  of  his  brethren  of  the  hierarchy,  that  his  mtiital  sufferings 
produced  a  mortal  disorder,  and  it  is  said  that  with  his  dying  breath  he 
called  down  Heaven's  vengeance  upon  William  for  his  general  lyianny, 
and  for  his  especial  misconduct  towards  tlie  church  in  direct  violation  of 
of  his  coronation  oath. 

Apparently  regardless  of  the  curses  of  the  archbishp  or  of  the  deep 
hatred  of  the  Saxons  in  general,  William  steadily  pursued  his  course. 
He  took  care  to  fill  all  ecclesiastical  vacancies  with  foreigners,  who,  while 
doing  their  utmost  to  promote  the  papal  authority  ;.nd  interests  in  Eng- 
land, were  ^t  the  same  time  zealous  supporters  of  the  authority  of  the 
king,  whom  they  especially  aided  in  that  surest  of  all  means  of  destroy- 
ing a  conquered  people's  nationality,  the  introduction  of  the  language  of 
the  conquerors  in  general,  but  more  especially  into  legal  use. 

In  the  recent  general  and  signally  unsuccessful  revo'ts,  the  earls  Mor- 
car  and  Edwin  had  taken  no  part.  But  now  that  the  Conqueror  had  no 
longer  any  temptation  to  hypocritical  and  politic  mildness,  the  situation  of 
these  noblemen  was  a  truly  perilous  and  difficult  one.    Their  very  lineage 

I.— 12 


178 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORT. 


and  the  popularity  tliey  enjoyed  among  the  men  of  their  own  race  mad« 
them  hateful  to  llie  king,  who  felt  that  they  were  constantly  looked  up  to 
as  leaders  likely  at  some  period  loaid  the  Saxons  in  thrownig  off  his  yoke. 
Their  wealth,  on  the  oilier  hand,  exp(med  them  to  the  envy  of  the  needy 
and  grasping  among  the  Norman  nobles,  who  eagerly  longed  to  see  them 
engaged  in  some  enterprise  which  would  lead  to  their  attainder  and  for- 
feiture. Being  convinced  that  their  ruin  was  only  deferred  and  would  be  com- 
pleted upon  the  first  plausible  occasion  that  might  present  itself,  they  de- 
termined openly  to  brave  the  worst,  and  to  fall,  if  fall  they  must,  in  the 
attempt  to  deliver  both  themselves  and  their  country.    Edwin,  therefore, 
went  to  his  possessions  in  the  north  to  prepare  his  followers  for  one  more 
struggle  against  the  Norman  power;  and  Morcar,  with  such  followers  as 
he  could  immediately  command,  joined  the  brave  Hereward  who  still  main- 
tained his  position  among  the  almost  inaccessible  swamps  of  the  Isle  of 
Ely.    But  William  was  now  at  leisure  to  bring  his  gigantic  power  to  bear 
upon  this  chief  shelter  of  the  comparatively  few  Saxons  who  still  dared  to 
strive  against  his  tyranny.     He  caused  a  large  number  of  flat-bottomed 
punts  til  be  constructed,  by  which  be  could  land  upon  the  island,  and  by 
dint  of  vast  labour  he  made  a  practicable  causeway  through  the  morasses, 
and  surrounded  the  revolted  with  such  an  overwhelming  force,  that  a  sur- 
render a;,  discretion  was  the  only  course  that  could  be  taken.    Hereward 
however,  made  his  way  through  the  enemy,  and  having  gained  the  sea, 
continued  upon  that  element  to  be  so  daring  and  effective  an  enemy  to  the 
jNormans,  that  William,  who  had  enough  generosity  remaining  to  value 
even  in  an  enemy  a  spirit  so  congenial  to  his  own,  voluntarily  forgave 
him  all  his  acts  of  opposition,  and  restored  him  to  his  estate  and  to  his 
standing  in  the  country.     Earl  Morcar,  and  Egelwin,  the  bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, were  taken  among  the  revolted,  and  thrown  into  prison,  where  the 
latter  speedily  perished,  either  of  grief  or  of  the  severities  inflicted  upon  him. 
Edwin,  on  the  new  success  of  the  king  in  capturing  the  garrison  of  the 
Isle  of  Ely,  set  out  for  Scotland,  where  he  was  certain  of  a  warm  wel- 
come.   But  some  miscreant  who  was  in  the  secret  of  his  route,  divulged 
it  to  a  party  of  Normans,  who  overtook  him  before  he  could  reach  the 
border,  and  in  the  conflict  that  ensued  he  was  slain.    His  gallantry  had 
made  him  admired  even  by  his  enemies,  and  both  Normans  and  Saxons 
joined  in  lamenting  his  untimelj'^  end.     The  king  of  Scotland,  who  had 
lent  his  aid  to  the  revolted,  was  compe'led  to  submit  to  the  victorious 
William  ;  and  Edgar  Atheling,  no  longer  able  to  depend  upon  safety  even 
in  Scotland,  threw  himself  upon  William's  morcy.     The  Conqueror,  who 
seems  to  have  held  the  character  of  that  prince  in  the  most  entire  con- 
tempt, not  only  gave  him  life  and  liberty,  but  allowed  him  a  pension  to  en- 
able him  to  live  in  comfort  as  a  subject  in  that  land  of  which  he  ought  to 
have  been  the  sovereign. 

Upon  this  occasion,  as  upon  all  others,  William's  policy  made  clemency 
and  severity  go  hand  in  hand.  While  to  the  leading  men  of  the  revolted 
he  showed  either  comparative  or  positive  lenity,  he  visited  the  common 
herd  with  the  most  frightful  rigour,  putting  out  the  eyes  and  cutting  off 
the  hands  of  many  of  them,  and  sending  them  forth  in  this  horrible  con 
dition  as  a  warning  to  their  fellow-countrymen. 

A.D.  1073. — From  England  William  was  obliged  to  turn  his  attention  to 
France.  The  province  of  Maine  in  that  country  had  been  willed  to  him 
before  he  became  king  of  England,  by  Count  Herbert.  Recently  the  peo- 
ple, encouraged  by  William's  residence  in  England,  and  rendered  discon* 
tented  by  the  vexatious  opppression  of  the  Normans,  to  whom  he  had  en« 
trusted  the  government,  rose  and  expelled  them;  to  which  decisive 
course  they  were  encouraged  by  Fulke,  count  of  Anjou,  who,  but  for  Count 
Herbert's  will,  would  have  succeeded  to  the  province.  The  complete 
■abjection  of  England  furnished  the  king  with  leisure  to  chastise  the  peo* 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


179 


pie  of  Mai:.e,  and  he  accordingly  wont  over  with  a  large  force,  chiefly 
composed  of  Knglish  from  the  districts  most  prone  to  revolt.  With  tliese 
troops,  who  e.\erted  Ihemsi'lves  greatly  in  the  hope  of  winning  the  favour 
of  a  monarch  whose  power  thoy  had  no  longer  any  means  of  shaking  otf, 
and  with  a  sufficient  number  of  natives  of  Normandy  to  insure  him 
against  any  treachery  on  the  part  of  the  English,  ho  entered  Maine,  ani 
comppllcd  the  submission  of  that  province,  and  the  relinquishment  by  the 
earl  of  Anjou  of  sill  pretensions  to  it. 

A.D.  1074. — While  William  was  thus  successful  in  France,  England  was 
disturbed,  not  by  the  English,  but  by  the  most  powerful  of  the  king's  own 
favourite  Normans.  Obedient  to  their  leader  in  the  field,  the  "Norman  bi- 
rons  were  accustomed  in  civil  life  to  deem  themselves  perfe«;tly  indepen- 
dent; and  these  feudal  chiefs  having  in  their  own  territory  absolute  pow- 
er, even  to  tiic  infliction  of  death  upon  oflenders,  were  too  sovereign  to 
brook  without  reluctance  the  arbitrary  way  in  which  William  was  accus- 
tomed to  issue  and  enforce  his  orders.  The  consequence  was  a  very  gen- 
eral, though  hitherto  a  secret,  discontent  among  the  Norman  barons  of 
England.  The  long  smouldering  discontent  was  brought  to  light  by  the 
arbitrary  interference  of  the  king  in  the  domestic  aflaiis  of  Roger,  son  of 
his  favourite  Fitzosborne.  Roger,  who  had  been  created  earl  of  Hereford, 
wished  to  give  his  sister  in  marriage  to  Ralph  de  Guader,  earl  of  Norfolk, 
and,  rather  as  a  respectful  formality  than  in  the  expectation  that  the  king 
would  interpose  any  obstacle,  had  requested  his  sanction,  which  William 
arbitrarily  and  without  assigning  a  reason  refused.  Surprised,  and  still 
more  indignant  at  the  king's  refusal,  both  the  earls  determined  that  the 
marriage  .should  proceed  notwithstanding.  They  accordingly  assembled 
the  friends  of  their  respective  houses,  and  at  the  banquet  which  followed 
the  ceremony  they  openly  and  warmly  inveighed  against  the  caprice  of 
the  king-,  and  especially  against  the  rigour  of  the  authority  which  he 
seemed  so  much  determined  to  exercise  over  those  nobles  to  whose  gal- 
lantry he  owed  the  richest  of  his  territories  and  the  proudest  of  his  dis- 
tinctions. The  company,  after  the  Norman  fashion,  had  drunk  deeply ; 
and  to  men  warmed  with  wine  any  arguments  will  seem  cogent.  And 
certainly  many  of  the  arguments  wiiich  were  now  used  to  induce  some  of 
ihe  most  powerful  of  the  Norman  nobility  to  rebel  against  the  king  re- 
quired all  tlie  aid  of  wine  and  wassail  to  enable  them  to  pass  muster  be- 
fore even  the  most  superficial  j'ldges.  Though  every  Norman  present 
owed  all  that  he  had  of  English  wealth  or  English  rank  to  the  ruin  of  the 
rightful  Saxon  owners,  the  cruelly  of  the  king  towards  the  Saxons  was 
inveighed  against  with  the  most  hypocritical  and  loathsome  cant,  merely 
because  WaltheoT,  earl  of  Northumberland,  who  was  present,  was  a  Saxou 
by  birth  and  well  known  to  be  still  Saxon  in  heart,  tliougi'  he  was  a  prime 
favourite  of  the  king,  who  had  given  him  his  niece  Judith  ai  marriage. 
Again,  the  legitimacy  of  William's  birth  was  dwelt  upon  as  a  reason  for 
revolting  against  his  auliioritj',  though  it  had  from  his  very  childhood  been 
not  tliG  slightest  bar  to  his  succession  to  his  father's  duk?dom,  though  it 
was  considered  no  dishonour  m  any  country  in  Europe,  and  though  Wil- 
liam himself  .nade  so  little  secret  of  his  irregular  birth,  that  he  verj'  coni- 
moniy,  as  duke  of  Normandy,  signed  himself  Gulielmus  Bastardus. 

Tiie  mal(;ontent  Normans,  as  it  turned  out,  had  far  better  have  left 
Walt'  '  if  out  of  their  calcuiiUion.  The  enthusiasm  of  a  festive  meeting, 
acting  upon  his  strong  though  deeply  concealed  sympathy  with  his  unfor- 
tunate fellow-countryman,  caused  him  to  enter  very  readily  into  the  con- 
ppira'.'y  that  was  now  formed  against  the  authority  of  William.  But  with 
cooler  moments  came  other  feelings.  Tyrant  though  William  was  to 
others,  to  him  he  had  been  a  most  gracious  monarch  snd  liberal  friend; 
there  was  danger,  too,  that  any  conspiracy  Hgainst  a  king  so  Wntchftrt 
and  so  pow^ival  h,  aid  be  ruinous  only  to  the  conspirators  themselves 


130 


THE  TREASUIIY  OF  HISTORY. 


and  finally,  setting  aside  both  personal  gralitiulo  and  personal  fears,  was 
it  not  probable  that  in  aiding  to  overthrow  William,  he  would,  in  fact,  be 
aiding  to  overthrow  a  single  and  not  invariably  cruel  tyrant,  only  to  set 
up  a  multitude  of  despots  to  spoil  and  trample  the  unhafjpy  people  ?  Which- 
ever way  his  reflections  turned  he  was  perplexed  and  alarmed  ;  and  hav- 
ing confidence  equally  in  the  affection  and  in  the  judgment  of  his  wife, 
he  entrusted  her  with  the  secret  of  the  conspiracy,  and  consultf-d  her  aa 
to  the  course  that  it  would  best  befit  him  to  take.  But  Judith,  whoso 
marriage  had  been  brought  about  with  less  reference  to  her  inclination 
than  to  the  jting's  will,  had  suffered  her  affections  to  be  ueduccd  from  her 
husband,  and  in  the  abominable  hope  of  ridding  herself  of  him  by  exposing 
him  to  the  fatal  anger  of  the  king,  she  sent  William  all  the  particulars 
which  she  had  thus  confidently  acquired  of  the  conspiracy.  Walthcof,  in 
the  meantime,  growing  daily  more  and  more  perplexed  and  alariried,  con- 
fided his  secret  and  his  consequent  perplexities  to  Lanfranc,  whom,  from 
being  an  Italian  monk,  the  Conqueror  had  raised  to  the  archbishopric  of 
Canferbury,  on  the  degradation  and  imprisonment  of  the  unfortunate  Sti- 
gand.  Lanfranc  advised  him  faithfully  and  well,  pointing  out  to  him  how 
p  ramount  his  duty  to  the  king  and  his  own  family  was  to  any  considera- 
rioi;  he  could  have  for  the  conspirators,  and  how  likely  it  was  that  even 
by  some  one  of  them  the  conspiracy  would  be  revealed  to  thr  king,  if  he 
did  not  by  speedy  information  at  once  secure  hinistlf  fropt  [luiishinent, 
and  obtain  whatever  merit  William  might  attach  to  the  earliest  informa- 
tijn  upon  so  important  a  subject.  These  arguments  coincided  so  exactly 
with  Wallheof's  own  feelings,  that  he  no  longer  hesitated  how  to  act,  ^ut 
at  once  went  over  to  Normandy  and  confessed  everything  to  the  king. 
With  his  usual  politic  tact,  William  gave  the  repentant  conspirator  a  gra- 
is  reception,  and  professed  to  feel  greatly  obliged  by  his  oara  in  giving 
jiii.i  the  information  ;  but  knowing  it  all  already  by  means  uf  Walllioof's 
treacherous  wife,  William  inwardly  determined  that  WaMifJof,  especially 
as  he  was  an  Englishman,  should  eventually  profit  but  little  by  his  tardy 
repentance. 

Meanwhile,  Waltheofs  sudden  journey  to  the  king  in  Normandy  alarmed 
the  conspirators  ;  not  doubting  that  they  v.ere  betrayed,  yet  unwilling  to 
fall  unresisting  victims  to  the  king's  rage,  they  broke  into  open  revolt  far 
more  prematurely  than  otherwise  fhey  would.  From  the  first  dawninjT 
of  the  conspiracy  it  had  been  a  leading  point  of  their  agreem.'Mit  that  thev 
should  make  no  open  demonstration  of  hostility  to  the  king  until  the  a''- 
rival  of  a  large  fleet  of  the  Danes,  with  whom  they  had  secretly  allieil 
themselves,  and  whose  aid  was  quite  indispensible  to  their  combating, 
with  any  reasonable  chance  of  success,  the  great  majority  of  the  nobility, 
who,  from  real  attachment  to  the  king  or  from  more  selfish  motives,  would 
be  sure  to  defend  their  absent  sovereign.  But  now  that  they  were,  as 
they  rightly  conjectured,  betrayed  by  Waltheof,  t!iey  could  no  longer  reg- 
ulate their  conduct  by  the  strict  maxMns  of  prudence.  The  carl  of  Here- 
ford, as  he  was  the  first  of  the  conspirators,  so  also  was  the  first  openly 
to  raise  his  standard  against  the  king,  He,  however,  was  hemmed  in,  and 
prevented  from  passing  the  Severn  to  carry  rebellion  into  the  heart  of  the 
kiiijj,dum,  by  the  bishop  of  Worcester  imd  the  mitred  abbot  of  Kvcsham  in 
that  county,  aided  by  Walter  de  Lacy,  a  powerful  Norman  baron.  Tho 
earl  of  Norfolk  wai  deff  tied  at  Tragadus  in  Cam  .-'idgishire,  by  Odo,  tha 
king's  half-brothor,  wl  ~,  vva?  left  as  regent  of  the  kingdom,  and  Uichard 
de  Bienfaite  and  William  de  Warenne,  the  lords  justiciaries.  The  earl  of 
Norf'Uk  was  fortunate  enough  to  escape  to  Norfolk,  but  those  of  his  routed 
followers  who  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  made  prisoners  and  not  slain 
imm  iiately  after  the  action,  were  barbarously  condemned  to  lose  their 
right  feet.  When  news  of  this  rigour  reached  the  earl  in  his  Danish  re- 
treat, he  gave  up  all  hope  of  being  able,  as  it  would  seem  ho  had  still  in- 


THE  TttKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


18t 


ended,  to  raise  any  further  disturbance  in  England ;  he  therefore  pro- 
ceeded to  his  large  possessions  in  Brittany. 

A.D.  1075. — Wiien  the  news  reached  William  of  the  conspiracy  having 
actually  broken  out  into  open  revolt  he  hastened  over  to  England,  where, 
however,  so  speedily  was  the  premature  and  ill-managed  outbreak  put  an 
end  to,  he  only  arrived  in  time  to  signalize  his  severity  once  more  by  the 
punishments  which  he  inflicted  upon  the  common  herd  of  the  rebels.  Many 
of  these  unhappy  wretches  had  their  eyes  put  out,  and  still  more  were  de- 
prived of  their  right  hands  or  feet,  and  thus  made  a  perpetual  and  terrific 
warning  against  arousing  the  terrible  anger  of  the  king.  The  earl  of  Here- 
ford, who  was  taken  prisoner,  and  upon  whom,  as  the  primary  cause  of  the 
revolt  and  the  consequent  misery  and  suffering,  it  might  have  been  antic- 
ipated that  the  king's  wrath  would  have  fallen  with  deadly  severity,  es- 
caped far  better  than  the  wretched  peasants  whom  his  imprudence  had  led 
into  ruin.  He  was  deprived  of  his  estate  and  condemned  to  imprisonment 
during  the  king's  pleasure.  But  the  king  gave  evident  signs  of  an  inten- 
tion to  release  the  prisoner,  whom  he,  in  that  case,  would  most  probably 
'have  restored  to  his  estate  and  to  favour,  but  the  impolitic  and  peculiarly 
ill-timed  hauteur  of  the  earl  gave  fresh  offence  to  the  fiery-tempered  mon- 
arch, and  the  sentence  of  imprisonment  was  made  perpetual. 

Tiius  far  Waltheof  had  felt  no  fear  for  himself.  He  had  been  guilty  of 
no  overt  act  of  treason,  and  he  had  not  only  repented  of  the  crime  of  con- 
spiracy almost  as  soon  as  he  had  committed  it,  but  had  hastened  to  warn 
the  king,  who  had  received  his  information  with  great  apparent  thankful- 
ness. But  Waltheof  left  out  of  his  calculation  one  very  important  point; 
he  forgot  to  take  into  consideration  the  fatal  fact  of  his  being  an  English- 
man. Moreover,  he  had  the  pleadings  against  him  of  his  infamous  wife 
Judith.  The  influence  she  had  over  her  uncle  would  scarcely,  perhaps, 
have  sufficed  to  save  her  husband,  unless  powerfully  backed  by  some  other 
circumstances ;  but  it  was  quite  powerful  enough,  when  added  to  that  ot 
the  numerous  courtiers  who  l.uked  with  greedy  eyes  upon  the  great  prop- 
erty of  Waltheof,  to  close  the  king's  cars  to  the  voice  of  mercy,  and  the 
unhappy  Waltheof  was  tried  iind  executed.  We  have  not  said  that  he 
was  condemned ;  having  said  that  he  was  tried,  his  condemnation  need 
not  be  mentioned;  for  who,  when  the  king  wished  his  ruin,  could  in  that 
age  be  tried  and  not  condemned'! 

Waltheof,  being  universally  considered  the  last  Englishman  of  rank  from 
whose  exertions  his  unhappy  fellow-countrymen  could  have  hoped  for  any 
amelioration  of  their  sufferings,  was  greatly  lamented ;  nay,  to  such  an 
extent  was  the  popular  grief  carried,  and  so  much  was  it  mixed  up  with 
the  superstition  of  the  age,  that  his  remains  were  supposed  to  be  endued 
with  tlie  power  of  working  miracles,  and  of  thus  indirectly,  at  least,  bear- 
ing testimony  to  his  sanctity  and  to  the  injustice  of  his  execution.  In  pro- 
portion to  the  regret  felt  for  the  deceased  earl  was  the  public  detestation 
of  his  widow.  To  that  detestation  retributive  fortune  soon  added  the  loss 
of  the  king's  favour,  and  the  whole  remainder  of  her  life  was  spent  in  ob 
scure  and  unpitied  misery. 

Having  completely  put  an  end  to  all  disturbance  in  England,  William 
now  hastened  over  to  Normandy  to  prepare  to  invade  the  possessions  of 
Ralph  de  Gauder,  earl  of  Norfolk.  ]3ut  that  nobleman  was  so  well  sup-- 
ported  by  the  earl  of  Brittany  and  the  king  of  France,  that  he  was  able  to 
maintain  himself  in  the  fortress  of  Dol  against  all  the  force  that  William 
could  array  against  him.     It  was  no  part  of  William's  policy  to  have  any 

Eermanent  or  serious  quarrel  with  the  king  of  France  ;  and  finding  that 
oth  that  monarch  and  the  earl  of  Brittany  were  resolutely  bent  upon  sup- 
porting Ralpli  de  Gauder,  at  whatever  consequences,  he  wisely  made  a 
peace  with  all  three. 
A.D.  1076.— Lanfranc,  raised  by  William  to  the  archbishopric  of  Cante* 


m 


THE  TUEASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


bury,  was  at  once  an  ambitions  man  and  a  faithful  and  zealous  servant  of 
the  papacy.  Though  he  had  been  raised  to  his  high  st.iiiou  by  liie  favour 
of  the  itiiig,  to  whom  he  was  really  and  gratefully  attached,  he  would  not 
allow  the  rights  of  the  church  to  be  in  any  wise  infriufred  upon.  On  tho 
death  of  Aldred,  by  whom  it  will  be  remembered  that  William  had  chosen 
to  be  crowned,  Thomas,  a  Norman  monk,  was  appointed  to  succeed  him 
in  the  archbishopric  <"  York.  Tiie  new  archbishop,  probably  presuming 
upon  the  king's  favour,  pretended  that  the  arcliiepiscopal  see  of  York  had 

Erecedence  and  superiority  to  that  of  Canterhury.  The  fact  of  Aldred, 
is  predecessor,  iiaving  been  called  upon  to  c  own  the  king,  most  prob- 
ably  weighed  with  the  prelate  of  York;  in  which  case  he  must  have  for- 
gotten or  wilfully  neglected  the  circumstances  of  that  case.  Lanfranc  did 
neither  one  nor  the  other;  and,  heedless  of  what  the  king  might  think  or 
wish  upon  the  subject,  he  boldly  commenced  a  procession  to  the  papal 
court,  which,  after  the  delay  for  which  Rome  was  already  proverbial,  was 
terminated  most  triumphantly  for  Lanfn-  /:.  It  will  readily  be  supposed 
that  under  such  a  prelate  the  people  of  Kujland  were  not  allowed  to  loss 
any  portion  of  their  exorbitant  respect  for  the  papacy.  William,  indeed, 
was  not  a  monarch  to  allow  even  the  church,  potent  as  it  was,  to  master 
liim.  Very  early  in  his  reign  he  expressly  forbade  his  subjects  from  ac- 
knowledging any  one  as  pope  until  autiiorized  to  do  so  by  the  king;  he 
required  all  canons  of  the  synods  to  be  submitted  for  his  approval ;  and 
though  even  he  did  not  deem  it  safe  to  dispute  the  right  of  tlie  church  lo 
excommunicate  evil-doers,  he  very  elTectually  curbed  that  right,  as  applied 
to  his  oVn  subjects,  by  ruling  that  no  papal  bull  or  letter  sliuuld  be  held 
to  be  an  authoritative  or  even  an  authentic  document,  until  it  should  have 
received  his  sanction.  It  was  rather,  therefore,  in  imbuing  the  minds  of 
the  people  with  a  solemn  awe  and  reverence  of  the  pope  and  the  church, 
that  Lanfranc  was  engaged  during  this  reign;  and  in  tiiis  he  was  so  suc- 
cessful, that,  subsequent  monarchs  of  less  ability  and  tirmncss  tiiau  Wil- 
liam were  grievously  incommoded. 

Gregory  VII.  probably  pushed  the  power  of  the  papacy  over  the  tempo- 
ral concerns  of  the  kingdoms  of  Europe  further  than  any  previous  pope. 
He  excommunicated  Nicephorus,  the  emperor  of  the  east,  and  liobert 
Guiscard,  the  Norman  conqueror  of  Naples  ;  he  took  away  from  Poland 
her  very  rank  as  a  kingdom ;  and  he  pretended  to  llie  right  of  parcelling  out 
the  territory  of  Spain  among  those  adventurers  who  should  (;onquer  it 
from  the  Moors.  Though  he  was  boldly  and  ably  opposed  by  the  empe- 
ror Henry  IV.,  he  was  not  a  whit  deterred  in  his  anibitiou.s  course  ;  and 
even  the  warlike,  able,  and  somewhat  fierce  character  of  William  did  not 
ehield  him  from  being  assailed  by  the  extravagant  demands  of  Rome. 
Gregory  wrote  lo  him  to  demand  the  paymeiit  of  Peter's  peix'e,  which 
Rome  had  converted  into  a  rightful  tribute,  though  a  Siixon  prince  iiad 
originally  given  the  contribution,  so  called,  merely  as  a  voluntary  dona- 
lion  ;  and  he  had  at  the  same  time  averred  that  William  h;id  [ironiiscd  to 
do  homage  to  Rome,  for  his  kingdom  of  England.  William  sent  the 
money,  but  he  plainly  and  somewhat  tartly  told  the  pope  at  the  same 
time,  that  he  had  neither  promised  nor  ever  intended  to  do  homage 
to  Rome.  The  pope  wisely  forbore  to  press  the  subject;  but  though 
in  addition  to  this  plain  refusal  to  compiy  with  an  unreasonable  de- 
mand, William  still  further  showed  his  independence  by  forbidding  the 
English  to  attend  a  council  which  Gregory  had  summoned)  he  had  ne 
means,  even  had  he  himself  been  more  free  from  superstition  than  he  ap 
pears  to  have  been,  of  preventing  the  progress  of  the  clergy  in  subject 
mg  the  minds  of  the  people.  The  greatest  efforts  were  made  to  rendei 
the  celibacy  of  the  clergy  general,  and  to  give  the  appearance  of  addittojia) 
Banctimoniousness  to  their  outward  life,  in  order  the  more  deeply  tc 
impress  the  people  with  the  notion  of  the  genuine  sanctity  of  their  character 


THE  TIlEAStJIlY  OP  HISTOllY. 


163 


Prospnrotis  as  William  was  in  his  public  affairs,  he  had  much  domcstio 
trouble.  He  was  obliged  to  reiTir.i:;  for  some  years  in  Normandy,  though 
as  a  residi'ni'o  he  greatly  preferred  Ki.nland.  Hut  his  eldest  son  Robert, 
PurnaiTii  d  (Jourlliosc,  on  aecoiiiit  of  the  siiurtness  of  his  legs,  made  his 
Irtiher  fcir  for  the  safety  of  Normandy.  It  appears  that  when  Maine 
submitted  to  William,  he  promised  the  people  of  that  province  that  they 
should  have  Robert  for  their  i>rin(:e  ;  and  when  h'!  set  out  to  conquer 
England,  he,  in  compli'  .'.e  with  the  wish  of  the  French  king,  whom  i! 
was  just  then  liis  espnr' il  interest  and  desire  to  satisfy,  nainud  Robert 
as  his  successor  in  tli-i  o.'diy  of  Normandy.  Ho  was  well  aware  that 
doing  this  was  hi"?  sole  m'\i  .s  of  reeonciliu;?  France  to  his  conquest  oj 
Kngland,  but  'm  had  not  the  ;iliglitest  intention  of  performing  his  promise 
Indeed,  when  .le  was  subsequently  asked  by  his  son  to  put  him  in  pos 
session  of  Normandy,  he  ridiculed  the  young  man's  credulity  by  reply 
ing-,  in  the  vulgar  proverb,  that  he  did  not  intend  to  undress  till  he  went 
to  bed.  The  disapixiintment  enraged  the  naturally  bad  temper  of  Robert ; 
some  qnarrels  with  his  brothers  William  and  Henry,  whom  he  hated  for 
the  supi-rior  favour  they  enjoyed  with  thei;  fal  .'r,  inflamed  him  still  far 
ther,  and  he  factiously  did  all  that  he  could  to  thwart  his  father's  wishes 
and  interest  in  Normandy;  nay,  ho  was  more  than  suspected  of  having, 
':y  his  intriirues,  confirmed  the  king  of  France  and  the  earl  of  Brittany  in 
their  sup()ort  of  his  rebellious  vassal,  th:    arl  of  Norfolk. 

So  thorou'r'dy  bent  was  Robert  upon  undutiful  opposition  to  his  father, 
that  he  >eizeu  upon  the  opporluiiiiy  affordod  by  an  extremely  childish 
quarrel  '  'tween  himself  and  his  brothers,  in  which  he  accused  his  father 
of  parti  '.y  siding  against  him,  and  hastened  to  Rouen,  where  he  endeav- 
ored to  surprise  and  seize  the  citadel.  Ho  was  prevented  from  succeed- 
ing in  this  In.'ason  by  the  siispieiou  and  activity  of  the  governor,  Roger 
de  I  very.  vStill  bent  upon  this  uimatural  opposition,  Robert  retired  to  the 
casllo  of  Hugh  de  Neuchatel,  who  not  only  gave  him  a  hospitable  recep- 
tion, but  assisted  and  encouraged  him  to  make  open  war  upon  his  sove- 
reign and  father.  The  fiery  but  generous  character  of  Robert  made  him 
a  very  great  favourite  among  the  chivalrous  Normans,  and  especially 
among  the  younger  nobles  of  Normandy  ann  the  neighbouring  provinces; 
and  as  Hohert  was  supposed  to  be  privately  favoured  by  his  mother,  he 
had  no  difficulty  in  raising  forces  sufficient  to  Uirow  his  father's  heredita- 
ry dominions  into  trouble  and  confusion  for  several  years. 

So  troublesome  did  Robert  and  his  adherents  at  length  become,  that 
William,  growing  seriously  alarmed  lest  he  should  actually  have  the  mor- 
tification and  disgrace  of  seeing  Normandy  fo'cl^ily  wrested  from  him  by 
his  own  son,  sent  over  to  England  for  forces,  i'hey  arrived  under  some 
of  tlie  veteran  chiefs  who  had  helped  to  conquei  England;  and  the  unduti- 
ful llohert  was  driven  from  the  posts  he  had  conquered,  and  compelled  to 
take  refuge  in  the  castle  of  Gerberoy,  which  refuge  the  king  of  France, 
who  had  secretly  counselled  and  abetted  his  misconduct,  had  provided  for 
him.  Ho  was  followed  thither  by  his  father  in  jerson,  hut  the  garrison 
being  strong  and  well  provided,  the  resi;:t.ance  was  obstinate  in  propor- 
tian.  Frequent  sullies  were  made,  and  on  one  of  these  occasions  Robert 
was  personally  opposed  to  his  fatlier,  whom,  from  the  king's  visor  being 
down,  he  did  not  recognize.  The  fight  was  herce  on  both  sides ;  and  Rob- 
ert, having  the  advantage  of  superior  agility,  Wwimded  and  unhorsed  his 
father.  'I'he  king  shouted  to  one  of  his  officers  for  aid  to  remount;  and 
Robert  recognizing  his  parent's  voice,  was  so  struck  with  horror  at  the 
narrow  escape  he  had  liad  of  slaying  the  author  of  his  being,  that  he  threw 
nimself  upon  his  knees  and  entreated  forgiveness  for  his  misconduct.  But 
the  king  was  too  deeply  offended  to  be  reconciled  jU  the  instant  to  his  er- 
ring and  penitent  son,  and,  mounting  Robert's  horse,  he  rode  to  his  own 
camp.    The  siege  was  shortly  afterwards  raised;  and  Queen  Matilda  hav< 


164 


THE  TT?RA8URY  OP  HISTORY. 


iiig  RMCPreded  in  bringinpf  about  ri  rpconcilialion,  tin'  kin?  not  only  al- 
lowed Robert  to  accompiinv  him  to  KiiKland,  In  i  also  eiitiustcd  him  wilb 


th 


had 


an  army  to  chastise  the  Sculcli  for  aomo 
the  northern  parts  of  Kngiand.  Tlio  VVoish  who,  as  well  as  the  Scoieh, 
had  taken  advantage  of  the  km^'n  absence  to  make  incursions,  were  now 
alao  chastif  jd  and  broiisjht       >  submission. 

A.D.  lost.— Having  holli  i  Norinnn  and  Knglihh  dominions  now  in  a 
state  of  profound  quiet,  VV  i  iin  turned  his  attention  to  ilic  importaiv  ..b. 
jectofa  survey  and  valuation  of  the  lands  of  Kngliiiid.  Taking  l' ir  Ihh 
model  the  survey  which  had  been  made  by  order  of  Alfred,  and  A'iiich 
was  deposited  at  Winchester,  he  had  the  extent,  tenure,  vahn',  and  kind 
of  the  land  in  each  district  carefully  noted  down,  together  wiiii  the  names 
of  the  proprietors,  and,  in  some  eases,  the  names  of  the  tenants,  with  tlio 
number,  age,  and  sex  of  the  cottagers  and  slaves.  Uy  good  arrangement 
this  important  work,  in  despite  of  its  great  extent,  was  completed  within 
fix  years,  and,  under  the  name  of  the  Domesday  Book,  it  to  this  day  re- 
mains to  give  us  the  most  accurate  account  of  Kngland  at  that  time,  with 
the  exception  of  the  northern  provinces,  which  the  rava^^es  of  war  and 
William's  own  tyranny  had  reduced  to  such  a  wretched  condition,  that  an 
account  of  them  was  not  considered  worth  taking. 

The  king's  acts  were  not  always  of  so  praiseworthy  a  character.  At 
tached,  like  all  Normans,  to  the  pleagnres  of  the  chaso,  he  allowed  that 
pleasure  to  seduce  him  into  cruelties  more  characteristic  of  a  demon  than 
a  man.  The  game  in  the  royal  forests  was  protected  by  laws  far  mora 
severe  than  those  that  protected  the  lives  of  human  beings.  He  who  kil- 
led a  man  could  atone  to  the  law  by  the  payment  of  a  pecuniary  fine ;  but 
he  who  was  so  unhappy  as  to  be  detected  in  killing  a  deer,  a  boar,  or 
even  an  insignificant  hare,  in  the  royal  forest,  had  his  eyes  put  out  ! 

A.D.  1087. — The  royal  forests  which  William  found  on  coming  to  Eng- 
land were  very  extensive ;  but  not  sufficiently  so  for  iiis  more  tlian  regal 
passion  for  the  chase.  His  usual  residence  was  at  Winciiesier;  and  de- 
siring  to  have  a  spacious  forest  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  he  mercilessly 
caused  no  less  an  extent  of  country  than  thirty  miles  to  be  laid  waste  to 
form  one.  Houses,  ""hole  villages,  churches,  nay,  even  convonls,  were 
destroyed  for  this  purpv-s";  and  a  multitude  of  wretched  people  were 
thus  without  any  (  -inroibUion  deprived  of  their  homos  and  property, 
and  cast  upon  tl>e  ■■.    rid,  i;i  many  cases,  to  perish  of  want. 

Besides  ihe  tccr'Ht-t  whlr.h  William  had  been  caused  by  the  petulancB 
of  his  son  Robert,  !io  towards  the  end  of  his  reign  had  two  very  great 
trials;  the  ungrateful  conduct  of  his  half  brother  Odo,  bishop  of  Bayeux,  and 
the  death  of  Queen  Matilda,  to  wiiom  throughout  he  was  most  fervently  at- 
tached. The  presumption  of  Odo  had  led  him  not  only  to  aim  at  the  pa- 
pal throne,  but  also  to  attempt  to  seduce  some  of  William's  nobles  from 
their  allegiance  and  accompany  him  to  Italy.  William  ordered  the  proud 
prelate  to  be  arrested ;  and  finding  that  his  officers,  deterred  by  their  fear 
of  the  church,  were  afraid  to  seize  the  bishop,  he  went  in  person  to  arrest 
him;  and  when  Odo,  mistakingly  imagining  that  the  king  shared  the  pop- 
ular prejudice,  pleaded  his  s;icred  character,  William  drily  replied,  "I  do 
not  arrest  the  Bishop  of  Bayeux,  but  i,he  earl  of  Kent" — which  title 
William  had  bestowed  upon  him.  He  then  sent  him  to  Normandy,  and 
there  kept  him  in  confinement.  William's  end,  however  now  approached. 
Some  incursions  made  upon  Normandy  by  French  knights,  and  a  coarse 

i'oke  passed  upon  his  corpulence  by  the  French  king,  so  much  provoked 
lim,  that  he  proceeded  to  lay  waste  the  town  of  Mantes,  with  the  avowed 
intention  of  carrying  his  rage  still  f  irther.  But  while  he  watched  the 
burning  of  the  town  his  horse  started,  and  the  king  was  so  severely 
bruised  that  he  died  a  few  days  afterwards  at  the  monastery  of  St.  Ger- 
»        T)nrinflr  his  moftal  llincss  he  made  great  grants  to  churches  and 


TlIK  TREASnUY  OB"  IIISTOIIY. 


186 


il  assumed  previous  to 

of  sovereign^*,  wliieU 

•  to  llio  present  clay. 

;iei;or(Jiiijj  to  the 

I  from  sueh  mar- 

ling  lo  the  ditVer- 

1. 1     J.     Tluis  tlio  Nor- 


monasteries,  l)y  way  of  atonement  for  tho  hideous  eruellies  of  vvliica  ho 
had  l)een  Kiidtv;  i)iit,  willi  the  uhiiuI  inconsistency  of  Huperstilion,  he 
could  liardly  l)e  perstiaited  to  nccoiupany  tliis  ostentatious  branuli  of  pon- 
iteiici!  hy  the  forniveness  and  release  of  Ins  lialf-l)rotlier  Odo.  ilo  at 
IcuKlli.  however,  lhou|>;h  with  u  reluctance  that  did  him  no  >;redit,  consent^ 
ed  to  release  an  1  forgive  Odo,  and  he  at  the  8an)o  time  gave  orders  for 
the  releasi'  of  lorcar  and  other  eniiiieiit  Knijlish  prisoners.  Ho  had 
scarcely  j^ivcmi  these  orders  when  ho  dieil,  on  the  'Jtii  of  .Se|)lrn»ber,  1087, 
in  the  twenty-first  year  of  his  usurped  r<Mi,'i\  over  Kni,'land. 

Now  that  we  hue  arrived  at  the  close  of  William  tho  Conqueror's  reign, 
it  may  be  as  well  before  we  proceed  further  with  our  narrative,  to  make 
a  short  digression  ndative  to  tiio  genealouieal  ri<fht  by  which  the  future 
m(»narelis  of  Knifland  successively  daimecl  the;  tlirono.  The  Norman  coif 
qutvst,  as  we  have  seen,  introduced  an  eittire  luijfe  in  the  laws,  ian- 
gua!{9,  manners,  and  customs.  Kii!,'land  beinn  ti'  make  a  more  consider- 
able fifrure  .imonij  tho  nations  of  Kurope  f' 
this  important  event ;  and  it  received  a 
fitJier  by  the  male  or  femalo  line  has  cm 
These  monarehs  were  of  several  '•house 
persons  who  espoused  the  princesses  ol 
riages  gave  to  tho  nation  its  kinj^s  or  queci 
ent  blanches  into  which  the  royal  family  wis  , 
MANS  began  with  William  the  Conqueror,  tho  head  of  the  whole  race, 
J>:id  ended  with  Henry  I.,  in  whom  liie  male  line  failed.  Stephen  (goner- 
ally  included  in  the  Norman  line)  was  tho  only  one  of  the  house  of 
I3i.ois,  from  the  marriage  of  Adela,  tlie  Conqueror's  fourth  daughter,  with 
Steplien,  earl  of  lUois.  The  Plantaoenkts,  or  House  of  Anjou,  began 
with  Henry  1I-,  from  tlio  marriage  of  Matilda  or  Maud,  dauglitcr  of  Henry 
I  ,  with  G(!ofVi(!y  I'lantagenet,  earl  of  Anjou;  and  continued  undivided  lo 
llichard  H.,  inclusive.  These  W(!ro  afterwards  divided  into  the  houses 
of  Lancasteu  and  Youk;  the  former  beginning  with  Henry  IV.,  son  of 
John  of  Gaunt,  duke  of  Lancaster,  fourth  son  of  Kdward  HI.,  and  ending 
with  Henry  VI.  The  latter  began  with  Kdward  IV.,  sou  of  Richard, 
duke  of  York,  who  on  the  father's  side  was  graiulson  to  Kdmuiid  do 
Langley,  fifth  son  of  Edward  HI.,  and  by  his  mother  descended  from  Li- 
onel, third  son  of  tile  said  king;  and  ended  in  Richard  HI.  The  family 
of  the  'I'unoRs  began  with  Henry  VII.,  from  the  marriage  of  Margaret, 
great  grauddaugluerof  John  of  Gaunt,  with  I'Mmund  Tudor,  carl  of  Rich- 
mond ;  aiul  ended  with  Queen  Klizabeth.  The  house  of  Stuart  began 
with  James  I.,  son  of  Henry  Stuart,  Lord  Darnley,  and  Mary,  Queen  of 
Scots,  whose  grandmother  was  Margaret,  daughter  to  Henry  VIL,  and 
ended  with  Queen  Anne.  William  III.  war  tiiu  only  one  of  the  house 
of  OuANGF.,  whose  mother  was  Mary,  daughter  of  Charles  I.  And  the 
house  of  Urunswick,  now  reigning,  began  with  George  I.,  whose  grand- 
mother was  the  princess  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  James  I. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  REIGxN  OF  WILLIAM  II. 

AD.  1037. — Richard,  one  of  the  Conqueror's  sons,  died  before  his  fa 
ther.  To  Robert  his  eldest  son  he  left  Normandy  and  Maine  ;  to  Henry  he 
•eft  only  his  mother's  possessions,  but  consoled  him  for  this  by  prophesy- 
ing that  he  would  in  the  end  be  both  richer  and  more  powerful  than 
either  of  his  brothers;  and  to  William  was  left  the  most  splendid  of  all  his 
father's  possessions,  the  crown  of  England,  which  the  Conqueror,  in  a 
letter  written  on  his  death-bed,  enjoined  Lanfranc,  archbishop  of  Canter 
bury,  to  place  upon  his  head.    The  young  Prince  William,  who.  from  the 


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180 


THE  TRKA8UEY  OP  HI8T0EY 


eolour  of  his  hair,  was  surnamed  Rufus,  was  so  anxious  to  avail  himself 
of  this  letter,  that  he  did  not  even  wait  at  the  monastery  of  St.  Gervas 
long  enough  to  receive  his  father's  last  breath,  but  hastened  to  England 
before  the  danger  of  the  Conqueror  was  generally  known,  and  obtained 
possession  of  the  royal  treasure  at  Winchester,  amounting  to  £60,000 
—a  large  sum  at  that  time.  He  also  possessed  himself  of  the  important 
fortresses  of  Pevensey,  Hastings,  and  Dover,  which  from  their  situation 
could  not  fail  to  be  of  great  service  to  him  in  the  event  of  his  right  to  the 
crown  being  disputed.  Such  dispute  he,  in  fact,  had  all  possible  reasoa 
to  expect.  The  manner  in  which  Robert's  right  of  primogeniture  was 
completely  set  aside  by  an  informal  letter  written  upon  a  death-bed,  when 
even  the  strongest  minds  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to  be  unsettled, 
was  in  itself  sufficient  to  lead  to  some  discontent,  even  had  that  prince 
been  of  a  less  fiery  and  fierce  temper  than  his  disputes  with  his  father  and 
brothers  had  already  proved  him  to  be.  Lanfranc,  who  had  educated  the 
new  kin^  and  was  much  attached  to  him,  took  the  best  means  to  render 
opposition  of  na  effect.  He  called  together  some  of  the  chief  nobles  and 
prelates,  and  performed  the  ceremony  of  the  coronation  in  the  most  im- 
plicit obedience  to  the  deceased  Conqueror's  letter.  This  promptitude  had 
the  desired  effect.  The  partizans  of  Robert,  if  absence  from  England 
had  left  him  any,  made  not  the  slightest  attempt  to  urge  his  hereditary 
right ;  and  he  seemed  to  give  his  own  sanction  to  the  will  of  his  father, 
by  peaceably,  and  as  a  matter  of  course,  assuming  the  government  of 
Maine  and  Normandy  which  it  conferred  upon  him. 

But  though  no  opposition  was  made  to  the  accession  of  William  Rufus 
at  the  time  when,  if  ever,  such  opposition  could  reasonably  have  been 
made,  namely,  previous  to  his  coronation,  he  was  not  long  seated  upon 
his  throne  before  he  experienced  the  opposition  of  some  of  the  most  pow- 
erful Norman  nobles.  Hatred  of  Lanfranc,  and  envy  of  his  great  power, 
actuated  some  of  them  ;  and  many  of  them  possessing  property  both  in 
England  and  Normandy,  were  anxious  that  both  countries  should  be  uni- 
ted under  Robert,  foreseeing  danger  to  their  property  in  one  or  the  other 
country  whensoever  the  separate  sovereigns  should  disagree.  They  held 
that  Robert  as  eldest  son,  was  entitled  to  both  England  and  Normandy ; 
and  they  were  the  more  anxious  for  his  success,  because  his  careless 
and  excessively  generous  temper  promised  them  that  freedom  from  inter- 
ference upon  which  they  set  so  high  a  value,  and  which  the  haughty  and 
hard  character  of  William  Rufus  threatened  to  deprive  them  of.  Odo, 
bishop  of  Bayeux,  and  Robert,  earl  of  Mortaigne,  another  half-brother  of 
the  Conqueror,  urged  these  arguments  upon  some  of  the  most  eminent  oi 
the  Norman  nobility.  Eustace,  count  of  Boulogne,  Roger  Bigod,  Hugh 
de  Greatsmil,  William,  bishop  of  Durham,  Robert  de  Moubray,  and  other 
magnates,  joined  in  the  conspiracy  to  dethrone  William  ;  and  they  sev- 
erally put  their  castles  into  a  state  of  defence.  William  felt  the  full  value 
of  promptitude.  Even  the  domestic  conspirators  were  powerful  enough  to 
warrant  considerable  alarm  and  anxiety,  but  the  king's  danger  would  be 
increased  tenfold  by  the  arrival  of  reinforcements  to  them  from  Nor- 
mandy. The  king  therefore  rapidly  got  together  as  strong  a  force  as  he 
could  and  marched  into  Kent,  where  Rochester  and  Pevensey  were  seized 
and  garrisoned  by  his  uncles  Odo  and  Robert.  He  starved  the  conspira- 
tors at  both  places  into  submission,  and  he  was  strongly  inclined  to  put 
the  leaders  to  death ;  but  the  more  humane  counsel  of  William  de  War- 
enne  and  Robert  Fitzhammond,  who  had  joined  him,  prevailed  upon  him 
to  content  himself  with  confiscating  the  property  of  the  olTenders  and  ban- 
ishing them  from  the  kingdom.  His  success  over  the  foremost  men  of 
the  rebel  party  decided  the  struggle  in  his  favour.  His  powenul  fleet  had 
by  this  time  stationed  itself  upon  the  coast,  so  that  Robert  no  longer  had 
any  opportunity  to  land  the  reinforcements  his  indolence  had,  so  fatally 


■wfr^rr^mTxyi  i 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


187 


bev- 

klue 

to 

be 


for  his  cause,  delayed.  The  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  upon  whom  the  conspl. 
ratora  had  greatly  depended,  was  skilfully  won  over  by  tlie  king  ;  and  tne 
rest  of  the  leaders  became  hopeless  of  success,  and  either  fled  from  the 
country  or  made  their  submission.  Some  were  pardoned,  and  others 
were  very  lightly  punished;  the  majority  were  attainted,  and  their  estates 
were  bestowed  upon  those  barons  who  had  sided  with  the  king  while  his 
crown  was  yet  in  danger. 

As  soon  as  he  had  completely  broken  up  the  confederacy  which  had  so 
early  threatened  his  throne,  Rufus  began  to  exhibit  himself  in  his  true 
nature  towards  his  Knglish  subjects.  As  long  as  his  cause  was  at  all 
doubtful,  he  had  promised  the  utmost  kindness  and  consideration ;  and  he 
especially  won  the  support  and  the  good  wishes  of  his  English  subjects 
hy  promising  a  great  relaxation  of  the  odious  forest  laws  of  his  predeces- 
sor. Now  that  he  was  secure,  he  not  merely  failed  to  mitigate  the  ty- 
ranny under  which  the  people  groaned,  but  he  increased  it.  While  Lan- 
franc  lived,  the  zeal  and  ability  of  that  prelate,  added  to  the  superstition 
of  the  age,  rendered  the  property  of  the  church  sacred.  But  Lanfranc 
died  soon  after  the  accession  of  William  Rufus,  wiio  made  his  own  will 
the  sole  law  for  all  orders  of  his  subjects,  whether  lay  or  clerical.  On 
the  death  of  a  bishop  or  abbot  he  either  set  th  ■;  see  or  abbey  up  for  open 
sale,  as  he  would  any  other  kind  of  property  or  he  delayed  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  new  bishop  or  abbot,  and  so  kept  the  temporalities  in  hand  for 
his  own  use.  Such  conduct  produced  much  discontent  and  murmuring  ; 
but  the  power  of  the  kin{?  was  too  great,  and  his  cruel  and  violent  temper 
was  too  well  known,  to  allow  the  general  discontent  to  assume  a  more  tan- 
gible and  dangerous  form.  So  confident,  indeed,  did  the  king  feel  of  his 
power  in  FJngland,  that  he  even  thought  it  not  unsafe  to  disturb  the  peace 
of  his  brother  Robert  in  Normandy,  where  the  licentious  barons  were  al- 
ready in  a  most  disorderly  state,  owing  to  the  imprudent  indulgence  and 
lenity  of  their  generous  and  facile  duke.  Availing  himself  of  this  state 
of  tilings,  William  bribed  the  governors  of  Albemarle  and  St.  Valori,  and 
thus  obtained  possession  of  tliose  important  fortresses. 

He  was  also  near  obtaining  possession  of  Rouen,  but  was  defeated  in 
that  object  by  the  singular  fidelity  of  his  brotner  Henry  to  Robert,  under 
circumstances  of  no  small  provocation  to  very  different  conduct. 

Henry,  though  he  had  inherited  only  some  money  out  of  all  the  vast 
possessions  of  his  father,  had  lent  Duke  Robert  three  thousand  marks  to 
aid  him  in  his  attempt  to  wrest  the  crown  of  England  from  William. 
By  way  of  security  for  this  money,  Henry  was  put  in  possession  of  con- 
siderable territory  in  Normandy :  yet  upon  some  real  or  pretended  sus- 
picion Robert  not  only  deprived  him  of  this,  but  also  threw  him  into  prison. 
Though  he  was  well  aware  that  Robert  only  Kt  last  liborated  him  in 
consequence  of  requiring  his  aid  on  the  threaljned  invasion  of  England, 
Henry  behaved  most  loyally.  Having  learnt  that  Conan,  a  very  power- 
ful and  influential  citizen  of  Rouen,  had  traitorously  bargained  to  give 
up  the  city  to  King  William,  the  prince  took  him  to  the  top  of  a  lofty 
tower,  and  with  his  own  hand  threw  him  over  the  battlements. 

The  king  at  length  landed  a  numerous  army  in  Normandy,  and  the 
state  of  things  became  serious  and  threatening  indeed  as  regarded  the 
duke.  But  the  intimate  connection  and  mutual  interests  of  the  leading 
men  on  both  sides  favoured  him,  and  a  treaty  was  made,  by  which  the 
English  king  on  one  hand  obtained  the  territory  of  Eu,  and  some  other 
territorial  advantages,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  engaged  to  restore 
those  barons  who  were  banished  from  England  for  espousing  the  cause 
of  Robert  in  the  late  revolt,  and  to  assist  his  brother  against  the  people 
of  Maii.e  who  had  revolted.  It  was  further  agreed,  under  the  witness  and 
guarantee  of  twelve  of  the  chief  barons  on  either  side,  that  whoever  of 
tlie  two  brothers  should  survive  should  inherit  the  possessions  of  the  other, 


188 


THE  TEEA9IJRY  OP  HISTORY. 


In  all  this  treaty  not  a  word  was  insert*,  i  in  favour  of  Prince  Heniy  ■ 
who  naturally  felt  indignant  at  beiiiR  so  much  neglected  by  his  brothel 
Kobert,  from  whom  he  certainly  had  merited  better  treatment.  With- 
drawing from  Rouen,  he  fortified  himself  at  St.  Michael's  Mount,  on  tha 
Norman  coast,  and  sent  out  plundering  parties,  who  greatly  annoyed  the 
whole  neighbourhood.  Robert  and  William  besieged  him  here,  and 
during  the  siege  an  incident  occurred  which  goes  to  show  that  Robert'i 
neglect  to  his  brother  was  owing  rather  to  carelessness  than  to  any  real 
want  of  generous  feeling.  Henry  and  his  garrison  were  so  much  distres- 
sed for  water  that  they  must  have  speedily  submitted.  When  this  was 
told  to  Robert,  he  not  only  allowed  his  brother  to  supply  himself  with 
water  but  also  sent  him  a  considerable  quantity  of  wine.  William,  who 
could  Aot  sympathize  with  this  chivalrous  feeling,  reproached  Robert  with 
being  imprudent.  "What!"  replied  the  generous  duke,  "should  I  suffei 
our  brother  to  die  of  thirst  1  Where  shall  we  find  another  when  he  ia 
gonel"  fiut  this  temporary  kindness  of  Robert  did  not  prevent  the  un- 
fortunate Henry  from  being  pvessed  so  severely  that  he  was  obliged  to 
capitulate,  and  was  driven  f  jrth,  with  his  handful  of  attendants,  almost 
destitute  of  money  and  resotirces. 

A.D.  1091. — Robert,  who  was  now  in  strict  alliance  with  the  king  anrl 
brother  who  had  so  lately  invaded  his  duchy  with  the  most  hostile  inten- 
tions, was  entrusted  with  the  chief  command  of  an  English  army,  which 
was  sent  over  the  border  to  compel  Malcolm  to  do  homage  to  the  crown 
of  England.     In  this  enterprise  Robert  was  completely  successful. 

A.D.  1093. — But  both  peace  and  war  were  easily  and  quickly  terminated 
in  this  age.  Scarcely  two  years  had  elapsed  from  Malcolm's  submission 
and  withdrawal  of  the  English  troops,  when  he  invaded  England.  Having 
plundered  and  wasted  a  great  portion  of  Northumberland,  he  laid  siege  to 
Alnwick  castle,  where  he  was  surprised  by  a  party  of  English  under  the 
earl  de  Moubray,  and  in  the  action  which  followed  Malcolm  perished. 

A.D.  1094. —  William  constantly  kept  his  attention  fixed  upon  Normandy 
The  careless  and  generous  temper  of  his  brother  Robert,  and  the  licentious 
nature  of  the  Norman  barons,  kept  that  duchy  in  constant  uneasiness 
and  William  took  up  his  temporary  abode  there,  to  encourage  his  own 
partizans  and  be  ready  toavailhimself  of  anything  that  might  seem  to  fa- 
vour his  designs  upon  his  brother's  Inheritance.  While  in  Normandy  the 
king  raised  the  large  sum  of  ten  thousand  pounds  by  a  roguish  turn  of  in- 
genuity. Being,  from  the  nature  of  the  circunr  es  in  which  he  was 
placed,  far  more  in  want  of  money  than  in  the  •.  jf  men,  he  sent  or- 
ders to  his  minister,  Ralph  Flambard,  to  raise  a.,  i  .ly  of  twenty  tliousand 
men,  and  march  it  to  the  coast,  as  if  for  instant  embarkation.  It  is  to  be 
supposed  that  not  a  few  of  these  men  thns  suddenly  levied  for  foreign 
service  were  far  more  desirous  of  staying  at  home  ;  and  when  the  army 
reached  the  coast,  these  were  gratified  by  the  information  that  on  the  pay- 
ment of  ten  shillings  to  the  king,  e^oh  man  was  at  liberty  to  return  to  his 
home.  With  the  money  thus  obtained,  William  bribed  the  king  ot 
France  and  some  of  those  who  had  hitherto  sided  with  Robert,  but  before 
he  could  gain  any  decisive  advantage  from  his  Mcichiavelian  policy,  he 
was  obliged  to  hasten  over  to  England  to  repel  the  Welsh,  who  had  made 
an  incursion  during  his  absence. 

A.D.  1095. — While  William  had  been  so  discreditably  busy  in  promoting 
discord  in  the  duchy  of  his  brother,  his  own  kingdom  had  not  been  free 
from  intrigues.  Robert  de  Moubray,  earl  of  Northumberlaud,  the  Count 
D'Eu,  Roger  de  Lacey,  and  many  other  powerful  barons,  who  had  been 
deeply  offended  by  the  king's  haughty  and  despotic  temper,  were  this 
year  detected  in  a  conspiracy  which  had  for  its  object  the  dethronement  of 
the  king  in  favour  of  Stephen,  count  of  Anmale,  and  nephew  of  Williani 
the  Conqueror.    With  his  usual  promptitude,  William,  ou  staining  intelk 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


189 


ide 


his 
of 
ant 
lb 


l^ence  of  the  conspiracy,  took  measures  to  defeat  it.  De  Moubray  vnn 
surprised  before  he  had  eompUted  his  preparations,  and  thougli  he  resist- 
ed gallantly  he  was  overpowered  and  thrown  into  prison.  Attainder  and 
forfeiture  followed  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  for  the  long  period  of  thirty 
years  the  unfortunate  noble  lingered  in  prison,  where  he  died.  The  Count 
D'Eu,  who  also  was  surprised,  firmly  denied  his  participation  in  the 
conspiracy,  and  challenged  Geoffrey  Baynard,  by  whom  he  had  been  ac- 
cused, to  mortal  combat.  The  count  was  defeated,  and  the  brutal  sen- 
tence upon  him  was  castration  and  deprivation  of  sight.  The  historians 
speak  of  William  de  Alderi,  another  of  the  conspirators,  who  was  hanged, 
as  having  been  more  severely  dealt  with  ;  but  we  think  most  people  would 
consider  that  death  was  among  the  most  merciful  of  the  sentences  of  this 
cruel  and  semi-barbarous  age. 

A  war,  or  rather  a  series  of  wars,  now  commenced,  to  which  all  the 
skirmishes  of  Scotland,  and  Wales,  and  Normandy,  were  to  prove  as 
mere  child's  play  in  comparison.  We  allude  to  the  first  crusade,  or  holy 
war,  the  most  prominent  events  of  which  we  have  given  in  our  brief 
"Outline  of  General  History."  Priest  and  layman,  soldier  and  trader, 
noble  and  peasant,  all  were  suddenly  seized  with  an  enthusiasm  little 
short  of  madness.  Men  of  all  ranks  and  almost  of  all  ages  took  to  arms. 
A  holy  war,  a  crusade  of  the  Christians  against  the  infidels  ;  a  warfare  at 
once  righteous  and  perilous,  where  valour  fought  under  the  sacred  sym- 
bol of  the  cross,  so  dear  to  the  Christian  and  so  hateful  to  the  infidel! 
Nothing  could  have  more  precisely  and  completely  suited  the  spirit  of  an 
age  in  which  it  was  difficult  to  say  whether  courage  or  superstition  were 
the  master-passion  of  all  orders  of  men. 

The  temper  of  Robert,  duke  of  Normandy,  was  not  such  as  to  allow  him 
to  remain  unmoved  by  the  fierce  enthusiasm  of  all  around  him.  Brave 
even  to  rashness,  and  easily  led  by  his  energetic  but  ill-disciplined  feelings 
to  fall  into  the  general  delusion,  which  combined  all  the  attractions  of  chiv- 
alry with  all  the  urgings  of  a  luistaken  and  almost  savage  piety,  he  very 
early  added  his  name  to  that  of  the  Christian  leaders  who  were  to  go  forth 
to  the  rescue  of  the  holy  sepulchre  and  the  chastisement  of  heathenism. 
But  wher,  in  the  language  of  that  book  which  laymen  of  his  period  but 
little  read,  he  "sat  down  to  count  the  cost,"  he  speedily  discovered  that 
his  life-long  carelessness  and  profusion  had  left  him  destitute  of  journey- 
ing to  the  east  in  the  style  or  with  the  force  which  would  become  his  rank. 
It  was  now  that  the  cooler  and  more  sordid  temper  of  William  of  Eng- 
land gave  that  monarch  the  fullest  advantage  over  his  improvident  and 
headstrong  brother,  who  recklessly  mortgaged  his  duchy  to  William  for 
the  comparatively  insignificant  sum  of  ten  thousand  marks.  William 
raised  the  money  by  means  of  the  most  unblushing  and  tyrannous  imposts 
upon  his  subjects,  and  was  forthwith  put  in  possession  of  Normandy  and 
and  Maine ;  while  Robert,  expending  his  money  in  a  noble  outfit,  proceed- 
ed to  the  east,  full  of  dreams  of  temporal  glory  to  be  obtained  by  the  self- 
same slaughter  of  pagans  which  would  insure  his  eternal  salvation. 
Though  William  was  thus  ready,  with  a  view  to  his  own  advantage,  to 
expedite  the  departure  of  his  brother  to  the  Holy  Land,  he  was  himself 
not  only  too  free  from  the  general  enthusiasm  to  go  thither  himself,  but 
he  aloo,  and  very  wisely,  discouraged  his  subjects  from  doing  so.  He 
seems,  indeed,  though  sufllcienily  superstitious  to  be  easily  worked  upon 
by  the  clergy  when  he  deemed  his  life  in  danger,  to  have  been  care- 
less about  religion  even  to  the  verge  of  impiety.  More  than  one  unbe- 
coming jest  upon  religion  is  on  record  against  him;  but  we  may,  per- 
haps, safely  believe  that  the  clergy,  the  sole  historians  of  the  times, 
with  whom  his  arbitrary  and  ungovernable  nature  made  him  no  favourite, 
have  painted  him  in  this  respect  somewhat  worse  than  he  was. 

It  was  in  one  of  his  fits  of  superstition  that,  believing  himnelfon  the 


% 


m 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


point  of  death,  he  was  at  length  induced  to  fill  up  the  archbishopric  of 
Canterbury,  wliich  he  had  kept  unfilled  from  tne  death  of  Lanfranc. 
In  terror  of  his  supposed  approaching  death  he  conferred  this  dignity 
upon  Anselm,  a  pious  and  learned  Norman  abbot.  Anselm  at  first  re- 
fused the  promotion,  even  in  tears ;  but  when  he  at  length  accepted  it, 
he  abundantly  proved  that  he  was  not  inclined  to  allow  the  interests  of 
the  church  to  lack  any  defence  or  watchfulness.  His  severity  of  demean- 
our and  life,  and  his  unsparing  sternness  towards  every  thing  that  either 
reason  or  superstition  pointed  out  as  profane  and  of  evil  report  were  re- 
markable. He  spared  not  in  censure  even  the  king  himself,  and  as  William, 
on  recoverini;  from  tiie  illness  which  caused  him  to  promote  Anselm, 
very  plainly  siiowed  that  he  was  not  a  jot  more  pious  or  just  than  before, 
disputes  very  soon  grew  high  between  the  king  and  the  archbishop  whom 
he  had  taken  so  much  trouble  to  persuade  into  acceptance  of  dignity  and 
power.  Tiie  church  was  at  this  time  much  agitated  by  a  dispute  be- 
tween Urban  and  Clement.  Each  maintained  himself  to  be  the  true,  and 
his  opponent  the  anti-pope.  While  yet  only  an  abbot  in  Normandy,  An- 
selm had  acknowledged  the  authority  of  Urban ;  and  he  now  in  his  higher 
dignity  and  wider  influence,  still  espoused  his  cause,  and  resolved  to 
establish  his  authority  in  England.  As  the  law  of  the  Conqueror  was 
still  in  force  that  no  pope  should  be  acknowledged  in  England  until  his 
authority  should  have  received  the  sanction  of  the  king,  William  deter- 
mined to  make  this  disobsdience  the  pretext  upon  which  to  endeavour  to 
deprive  the  archbishop  of  his  high  ecclesiastical  dignity.  The  king  ac- 
cordingly summoned  a  synod  at  Rockingham,  and  called  upon  it  to  depose 
Anselm.  But  the  assembled  suffragans  declined  to  pass  the  required  sen- 
tence, declaring  that  they  knew  of  no  authority  by  which  they  could  do  so 
without  the  command  of  the  pope,  who  alone  could  release  them  from  the 
respect  and  obedience  which  they  owed  to  their  primate.  While  the 
case  was  in  this  state  of  incertitude  and  pause,  some  circumstances  arose 
which  rendered  it  expedient  for  William  to  acknowledge  the  legitimacy 
of  Urban's  election  to  the  papal  throne,  but  the  apparent  reconciliation 
which  this  produced  between  the  king  and  Anselm  was  but  of  short  dura- 
tion. The  main  cause  of  grievance,  though  itself  removed  by  the  recon- 
ciliation of  William  and  the  pope,  left  behind  an  angry  feeling  which  re- 
quired only  a  pretext  to  burst  forth,  and  that  pretext  the  haughty  state 
despotism  of  William  and  the  no  less  haughty  church  zeal  of  Anselm 
speedily  furnished. 

We  mentioned  among  the  numerous  despotic  arrangements  of  the  Con- 
queror, his  having  required  from  bishoprics  and  abbeys  the  same  feudal 
service  in  the  field  as  from  lay  baronies  of  like  value.  William  Rufus 
in  this,  as  in  all  despotism,  followed  closely  upon  the  track  left  by  his 
father ;  and  having  resolved  upon  an  expedition  into  Wales,  he  called  upon 
Anselm  for  his  regulated  quota  of  men.  Anselm,  in  common  with  all  the 
churchmen,  deemed  this  species  of  servitude  very  grievous  and  unbecom- 
ing to  churchmen ;  but  the  despotic  nature  of  William,  and  that  feeling  ot 
feudal  submission  which,  next  to  submission  to  the  church,  seems  to  have 
been  the  most  powerful  and  irresistible  feeling  in  those  days,  prevented 
him  from  giving  an  absolute  refusal.  He  therefore  took  a  middle  course ; 
he  sent  his  quota  of  men,  indeed,  but  so  insufl[iciently  accoutred  and  pro- 
vided that  they  were  utterly  useless  and  a  disgrace  to  the  well-appointed 
force  of  which  they  were  intended  to  form  a  part.  The  king  threatened 
Anselm  with  a  prosecution  for  this  obviously  intentional  and  insulting 
evasion  of  the  spirit  of  his  duty  while  complying  with  its  mere  letter,  and 
the  prelate  retorted  by  a  demand  for  the  restoration  of  the  revenue  ot 
which  his  see  had  been  arbitrarily  and  unfairly  deprived  by  the  king,  ap- 
pealing to  the  pope  at  the  same  time  for  protection  and  a  just  decision. 
The  king's  violent  temper.was  so  much  inflamed  by  the  prelate's  oppost- 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


lUl 


tion,  that  the  Tricnds  of  Anselm  became  alarmed  for  his  personal  safety, 
and  application  was  made  to  the  king  fur  permission  for  the  prelate  to 
leave  the  country,  a  permission  which  he  readily  gave,  as  the  best  way 
at  once  to  rid  himself  of  an  opponent  whose  virtuous  and  religious  char- 
acter made  him  both  troublesome  and  dangerous,  and  to  obtain  possession 
temporarily,  at  the  very  least,  of  the  whole  of  the  rich  temporalities  of  the 
see  of  Canterbury.  Upon  these  he  seized  accordingly,  but  Anselm,  whom 
the  papal  court  looked  upon  as  a  martyr  in  the  cause  of  the  church,  met 
with  such  a  splendid  reception  at  Rome  as  left  him  littb  to  regret  in  a 
worldly  point  of  view. 

A.  n.  1097. — Though  freed  from  the  vexatious  opposition  of  the  indom- 
itable and  upright  churchman,  William  was  not  even  now  to  enjoy  re- 
pose ;  if,  indeed,  repose  would  have  been  a  source  of  enjoyment  to. a  tem- 
per so  fierce  and  turbulent.    Though  his  cooler  judgment  had  enabled 
him  to  obtain  Normandy  and  Maine  from  his  thouglitless  and  prodigal 
brother,  it  did  not  enable  him  to  keep  in  subjection  the  turbulent  and  al- 
most independent  barons  of  those  provinces.    They  were  perpetually  in 
a  state  of  disorder,  either  from  personal  quarrels  or  as  the  result  of  the 
artful  instigations  of  the  king  of  France,  who  lost  no  opportunity  of  in- 
citing them  to  revolt  against  the  king  of  England.    Among  the  most 
troublesome  of  these  barons  was  Helie,  lord  of  La  Fleche,  a  comparative- 
ly small  town  and  territory  in  the  province  of  Anjou.    He  was  very  pop- 
ular among  the  people  of  Maine;  and  though  William  several  times  went 
from  England  for  the  express  purpose  of  putting  him  down,  Helie  as 
constantly  returned  to  his  old  courses  the  moment  the  monarch  had  re- 
turned home.     William  at  length  took  Helie  prisoner,  but  at  the  interces- 
sion of  the  king  of  France  and  the  earl  of  Anjou  he  gave  him  his  liberty. 
Untamed  either  by  the  narrow  escape  he  had  had  from  death  in  being  re- 
leased from  the  hands  of  so  passionate  and  resolute  a  prince  as  William, 
Helie  again  commenced  his  plundering  and  destroying  course,  took  posses- 
sion, with  the  connivance  of  the  citizens,  of  the  town  of  Mans,  and  laid 
siege  to  the  garrison  which  remained  faithful  to  the  king  of  England. 
William  was  engaged  in  his  favourite  pursuit  of  hunting  in  the  New  For- 
est when  he  received  this  intelligence,  and  he  was  so  transported  with 
fury  that  he  galloped  immediately  to  Dartmouth  and  hurried  on  board  a 
vessel.    The  weather  was  so  stormy  and  threatening  that  the  sailors  were 
unwilling  to  venture  from  port;  but  the  king,  with  a  good-humoured  reck- 
lessness and  scorn,  assured  them  that  kings  were  never  drowned,  and 
compelled  them  to  set  sail.    This  promptitude  enabled  him  to  arrive  in 
time  to  raise  the  siege  of  Mans,  and  he  pursued  Helie  to  Majol ;  but  he 
had  scarcely  commenced  the  siege  of  that  place  when  he  received  so 
severe  a  wound  that  it  rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  return  to  Eng- 
land. 

A.  D.  1100. — The  cusading  mania  was  still  as  strong  as  ever.  Wil- 
liam, duke  of  Poictiers  and  earl  of  Quienne,  emulous  of  the  fame  of  the 
earlier  crusaders  and  wholly  untaught  by  their  misfortunes,  raised  an  im- 
mense force — some  historians  say  as  many  as  sixty  thousand  cavalry 
and  a  much  larger  number  of  infantry.  To  convey  such  a  force  to  the 
Holy  Land  required  no  small  sum  of  money,  and  Count  William  offered 
to  mortgage  his  dominions  to  William  of  England,  to  whom  alone  of  all 
the  lay  sovereigns  of  Europe,  the  crusades  promised  to  be  truly  profita- 
ble. The  king  gladly  agreed  to  advance  the  money,  in  the  confident  be 
lief  that  it  would  never  be  in  the  power  of  the  mortgager  to  redeem  his 
provinces,  and  was  in  the  very  act  of  preparing  the  necessary  force  to  es- 
cort the  money,  and  to  take  possession  of  the  provinces,  when  an  acci- 
dent, famous  in  history,  caused  his  death. 

The  New  Forest,  planted  by  the  most  iniquitous  cruelty,  was  very  fatal 
to  the  Conqueror's  family ;  so  much  so,  as  to  leave  us  little  reason  to 


132 


THE  TttEASURY  OF  HI8T0EY. 


wonJer  that,  in  so  superstitious  an  age,  it  was  deemed  that  there  wa«  % 
Bpeciiil  :tii(i  rt'tribiitive  fate  in  tho  royal  deaths  which  occurred  there. 
Richiini,  cldt-r  brother  of  Kin?  William  Rufus,  was  killed  there,  as  was 
Uichiird,  a  natural  son  of  Duke  Robert  of  Normandy.  William  Rufus  was 
HOW  a  third  royal  victim.  He  was  hunting  there  when  an  arrow  shot  by 
Walter  Tyrrei,  a  Norman  favourite  of  the  monarch,  struck  a  tree  and,  glan- 
cing off,  pierced  the  breast  of  the  king,  who  died  on  the  spot.  The  unin- 
tentional homicide  dreading  the  violent  justice  which  the  slayer  of  a  king 
was  likely  to  experience,  no  sooner  saw  the  result  of  his  luckless  shot, 
than  he  galloped  off  to  the  sea  shore  and  crossed  over  to  France,  whence 
he  with  all  speed  departed  for  the  Holy  land.  His  alarm  and  flight, 
though  perfectly  natural,  were,  in  fact,  quite  needless.  William  was  little 
beloved  even  by  his  immediate  attendants  and  courtiers ;  and  his  body 
when  found  was  hastily  and  carelessly  interred  in  Winchester,  without 
any  of  tiie  gorgeous  and  expensive  ceremony  which  usually  marks  the 
obsequies  of  a  powerful  monarch. 

London  Bridge— taken  down  only  a  very  few  years  since,  and  Westmin- 
ster Hall,  were  built  by  this  monarch.  For  the  last-named  structure, 
which  has  the  largest  roof  in  the  world  unsupported  by  pillars,  he  obtain- 
ed the  timber  from  Ireland,  which  at  that  time  was  very  celebrated  for 
its  timber  of  all  kinds,  but  especially  for  the  very  durable  and  beautiful 
sort  known  by  the  name  of  bog  oak. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  REION  OF  HENRY  U 


William  Rufus,  who  died  on  the  second  of  August,  1100,  in  the  forti- 
eth year  of  his  age  and  the  thirtieth  of  his  reign,  left  no  legitimate  issue, 
and  was  succeeded  by  liis  brother  Henry,  who  was  of  the  hunting  party  at 
which  the  king  lost  his  life. 

Robert,  duke  of  Normandy,  who  as  the  elder  brother  of  the  deceased 
king  had  a  preferable  claim  to  that  of  Henry,  was,  as  has  already  been 
related,  one  of  *he  chief  and  most  zealous  leaders  of  the  crusaders.  Af- 
ter slaughter  tf  \ble  merely  to  think  of,  and  sufferings  from  famine  and 
disease  such  as  ,>e  pen  of  even  a  Thueydides  would  but  imperfectly  de- 
scribe, the  crusac*  *s  had  obtained  possession  of  Jerusalem.  Solyman, 
the  Turkish  empe/<  r,  was  thoroughly  defeated  in  two  tremendous  bat- 
tles, and  Nice,  the  b^^^t  of  fiis  government,  was  captured  after  an  obsti- 
nate siege.  The  sovo  \n  of  Egypt,  however,  succeeded  the  Turkish  em- 
peror in  the  possession  of  Jerusalem,  and  he  offered  to  allow  free  ingress 
and  egress  to  all  Christian  pilgrims  who  chose  to  visit  the  holy  sepulchre 
unarmed.  But  the  religious  zeal  of  the  champions  of  the  cross  was  far 
too  highly  inflamed  by  their  recent  triumphs  over  the  crescent  to  allow 
of  their  accepting  this  compromise ;  they  haughtily  demanded  the  cession 
of  the  city  altogether,  and,  on  his  refusal,  siege  was  laid  to  it.  For  flva 
weeks  the  soldan  defended  himself  with  the  utmost  coolness  and  valoui 
against  the  assaults  of  highly-disciplined  and  veteran  troops,  whose  mill 
tary  ardour  was  now  excited  to  the  utmost  by  fanaticism.  But  at  the  end 
of  that  time  the  zeal  and  fury  of  the  Christians  prevailed ;  Jerusalem  was 
carried  by  assault,  and  a  scene  of  carnage  and  suffering  ensued  which 
might  almost  bear  comparison  with  that  earlier  and  dread  scene  in  the 
same  city,  of  which  we  owe  the  undying  narrative  to  Josephus.  Nor  was 
the  carnage  confined  even  to  the  furious  and  maddened  first  hours  of  suc- 
cess. Long  after  the  streets  of  the  holy  city  were  strewed  with  carcasses, 
and  upon  every  hearth  lay  the  dead  forms  of  those  who  had  vainly  en- 
deavoured to  defend  them^long  after  the  pulses  of  the  warrior  had  ceased 


J 


o 

in 
ti 
th 
es 

th 
to 
of 
th 

se 

be 
wl 


THI  TBJBASUaY  OF  HISTOaV. 


IM 


to  be  quickened  by  the  perilous  assaulN  and  his  better  nature  to  be  stifled 
by  the  irritation  of  resistance — an  unarmed  rabble  of  ten  thousand  people, 
of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  to  whom  quarter  had  been  promised  as  the 
reward  of  submission,  were  treacherously  and  brutally  murdered  in  cold 
blood  by  ruffians  wlio  soon  after  knelt  in  tearful  rapture  at  the  sepulchre 
of  him  who  died,  lamb-like,  for  the  salvation  of  all !  Awful  indeed,  the 
contrast  between  the  professed  motive  of  this  holy  war  and  the  conduct 
of  the  warriors ! 

The  city  of  Jerusalem  was  taken  just  about  twelve  months  previous  to 
the  death  of  William  Rufus,  and  the  crusaders,  having  elect:  d  Godfrey  of 
Boulogne  king  of  Jerusalem,  and  settled  other  nobles  and  knights  in  the 
Holy  Land,  returned  to  Europe.  Had  Robert,  duke  of  Normandy,  has- 
tened home  direct,  he  probably  would  have  been  able  to  prevent  the  usur- 
pation of  England  by  his  younger  brother.  His  knowledge  of  the  charac- 
ter of  William  Rufus  might  naturally  have  been  expected  to  hurry  him 
home  by  anxiety  about  Normandy ;  but  Robert  was  to  the  full  as  careless 
as  he  was  brave.  Passing  through  Italy  he  fell  in  love  with  and  married 
a  noble  lady,  Sibylla,  daughter  of  the  Count  of  Convcrsana,  and  remained 
a  whole  year  in  her  native  clime,  abandoning  himself  to  the  delights  of 
love  and  that  most  delicious  country,  while  his  friends  in  England— and 
his  natural  character,  as  well  as  the  fame  of  his  achievmcnts  in  the  east, 
made  them  very  numerous — were  in  vain  hoping  that  he  would  arrive  to 
defeat  the  unjust  ambition  of  Henry.  The  latter  prince  was  as  alert  as 
his  brother  was  indolent.  The  instant  that  he  ascertained  the  death  of 
his  brother,  he  galloped  into  Winchester  and  seized  upon  the  royal  trea- 
sure.  De  Breteuil,  the  keeper,  endeavoured  to  secure  it,  and  remonstra- 
ted with  the  prince  on  the  absolute  treason  of  seizing  the  treasure  and 
crown,  which  belonged  of  right  to  his  elder  brother,  who  was  no  less  his 
sovereign  for  being  absent.  But  Henry,  whose  friends  hastened  to  sup- 
port him,  threatened  to  put  De  Breteuil  to  death  if  he  attempted  any  resist* 
ance  to  his  will,  and,  hastening  to  London  with  tiic  money,  he  made  so 
judiciously  prodigal  a  use  of  it,  alike  among  friends  in  fact  and  foes  by 
inclination,  that  he  easily  obtained  himself  to  be  elected  king  by  acclama- 
tion, and  he  was  crowned  by  Maurice,  bishop  of  London,  within  three 
days  of  his  brother's  sudden  and  violent  death.  Title  to  the  throne  it  is 
quite  plain  that  Henry  had  none.  But  he  now  had  possession ;  and  as  his 
judicious  bribery  had  procured  him,  at  the  least,  the  ostensible  support  of 
all  the  most  eminent  and  powerful  barons,  even  the  most  sincere  and  zeal- 
ous friends  of  the  absent  Robert  were  obliged  to  confess,  however  sor- 
rowfully, that  his  own  indolence  had  deprived  b  :•)  of  all  possibility  of 
obtaining  the  throne  from  his  more  active  and  entt.p.ising  brother,  unless 
at  the  fearful  expense  of  a  civil  war. 

Politic  as  he  was  resolute,  Henry  felt  that,  obtained  as  his  crown  had 
been  by  the  most  flagrant  and  unqualified  usurpation,  he  would,  at  the 
outset  of  his  reign  at  least,  be  best  secured  against  any  attempts  which 
in  mere  desperation  his  brother  might  make  to  dethrone  him,  by  the  affec 
tion  of  the  great  body  of  the  people  as  well  as  of  the  nobles.  To  obtain 
this,  the  tyrannies  of  his  immediate  predecessors  afforded  an  ample  and 
easy  scope. 

"Besides,"  says  Hume,  "taking  the  usual  coronation  oath  to  maintain 
the  laws  and  execute  justice,  he  passed  a  Charter  which  was  calculated 
to  remedy  many  of  the  grievous  oppressions  which  had  been  complained 
of  during  the  reigns  of  his  father  and  brother.  He  there  promised  that  at 
the  death  of  any  bishop  or  abbot  he  never  would  seize  the  revenues  of  the 
see  or  abb<  y  during  the  vacancy,  but  would  leave  the  whole  to  be  reaped 
by  the  successor,  and  that  he  would  never  let  to  farm  any  ecclesiastical 
benefice,  nor  dispose  of  it  for  money.  After  this  concesssion  to  the  church 
whose  favotur  was  of  so  great  importance  to  him,  he  proceeded  to  enume^ 
»— 13 


f94 


THB  TRBASUBf  OF  HISTORY. 


■te  the  civil  grievances  which  he  purposed  to  redress.  He  prrotnlsed  thai 
upon  the  death  of  any  earl,  baron,  or  military  tenant,  his  heir  should  be 
admitted  to  the  possession  of  his  estate  on  paying  a  Just  and  lawful  relief, 
without  being  exposed  to  such  violent  exactions  as  had  been  usual  during 
the  late  reigns— he  remitted  the  wardship  of  minors,  and  allowed  guar* 
dians  to  be  appointed  who  should  be  answerable  for  the  trust — he  proni- 
iiied  not  to  dispose  of  any  heiress  in  marriage  but  by  the  advice  of  all  the 
barons,  and  if  any  baron  intended  to  give  his  daughter,  sister,  niece,  ot 
other  kinswoman  in  marriage,  it  should  only  be  ni^ocssary  for  him  to  con- 
sult the  king,  who  promised  to  take  no  money  for  liia  consent,  nor  even 
to  refuse  permission,  unless  the  person  to  whom  it  was  purposed  to  marry 
her  shoula  be  his  enemy.  He  granted  his  barons  and  military  tenants  the 
power  of  bequepthing  by  will  their  money  or  personal  estates,  and  if  they 
neglected  to  make  a  will,  he  promised  that  their  heirs  should  succeed  to 
them.  He  renounced  the  right  of  imposing  moneyage  and  of  levying  taxes 
at  pleasure  on  the  farms  which  the  barons  retained  in  their  own  liandt, 
ana  he  made  some  general  professions  of  moderating  fines,  offered  a  par- 
don for  all  offences,  and  remitted  all  the  debts  due  to  the  crown.  He  re- 
quired that  the  vassals  of  the  barons  should  enjoy  the  same  privileges 
which  he  granted  to  his  own  barons ;  and  he  promised  a  general  confirma- 
tion and  observance  of  the  laws  of  King  Edward.  This  is  the  substance 
of  the  chief  articles  contained  in  that  famous  charter." 

Though,  to  impress  the  people  with  the  notion  of  his  great  anxiety  fot 
the  full  publicity  and  exact  performance  of  these  gracious  promises,  Henry 
caused  a  copy  of  this  charter  to  be  placed  in  an  abbey  in  every  county, 
his  subsequent  conduct  shows  that  he  never  -.ntended  it  for  anything  but  a 
lure,  by  which  to  win  the  support  of  the  barons  and  people,  while  that  sup- 
port as  yet  appeared  desirable  to  his  cause.  The  grievances  which  he  so 
ostentatiously  promised  to  redress  were  continued  during  his  whole  reign; 
and  as  regards  the  charter  itself,  so  completely  neglected  was  it,  that  when 
in  their  disputes  with  the  tyrant  John,  the  English  barons  were  desirous 
to  make  it  the  standard  by  which  to  express  their  demands,  scarcely  a 
copy  of  it  could  be  found. 

The  popularity  of  the  king  at  the  commencement  of  his  reign  owed  not 
a  little  of  its  warmth  to  his  just  and  politic  dismissal  and  imprisonment  of 
Ralp*.  Flambard,  bishop  of  Durham,  who,  as  principal  minister  and  favour- 
ite of  William  Rufus,  had  been  guilty  of  great  oppression  and  cruelty,  es- 
pecially in  raising  money.  The  Dudley  and  Empson  of  a  later  reign  were 
scarcely  more  detested  than  this  man  was,  and  nothing  could  be  more 
agreeable  to  the  people  than  his  degradation  and  punishment.  But  the 
king,  apart  from  his  politic  desire  to  gratify  the  public  resentment  against 
his  brother's  chief  and  most  unscrupulous  instrument  of  oppression,  seems 
to  have  had  his  own  pecuniary  advantage  chiefly  in  view.  Instead  of  im- 
mediately appointing  a  successor  to  the  bishopric,  he  kept  it  vacant  for 
five  years,  and  during  all  that  time  he,  in  open  contempt  of  the  positive 
promise  of  his  charter,  applied  the  revenues  of  the  see  to  his  own  use. 

This  shameful  invasion  of  the  rights  of  the  church,  however,  did  not 
prevent  him  from  otherwise  seeking  its  favour.  Well  aware  of  the  high 
rank  which  Anselm  hf^ld  in  the  affections  of  both  the  clergy  and  the  peo- 
ple, he  strongly  invit(  d  him  to  leave  Lyons— where  he  now  lived  in  great 
state— and  resume  his  dignity  in  England.  But  the  king  accompanied  this 
invitation  with  a  demand  that  Anselm  should  renew  to  him  the  homage 
he  had  formerly  paid  to  his  brother.  Anselm,  however,  by  his  residence 
at  Rome,  had  learned  to  look  with  a  very  different  eye  now  upon  that  ho- 
mage which  formerly  he  had  considered  as  so  mere  and  innocuous  a  form, 
and  he  returned  for  answer,  that  he  not  only  would  not  pay  homage  him- 
but  he  would  not  even  communicate  with  any  of  the  clergy  who  should 
do  so,  or  who  would  accept  of  lav  investiture.    However  much  mortified 


TUB  TRBASUBY  OF  HieTOUY. 


IM 


I 

B 

r, 

B 

r- 
I- 
le 
)i 
i»- 
sn 

ry 

iie 

By 

to 
;eB 
di. 
ar- 
re- 

je« 
na- 
ace 

fof 

nry 

nty, 

ut  a 

sup- 

e  80 

ign; 

krhcn 

reus 

ly  a 


irm, 

lim- 

Lould 

lified 


Henry  was  at  Anding  the  exiled  prelate  thus  resolute,  lie  was  too  anxious 
for  the  support  and  countenance  of  Anselni — which  if  thrown  into  the 
scale  for  Robert  might  at  some  future  time  prove  so  formidable — to  insist 
upon  his  own  proposal.  He  therefore  agreed  that  all  controversy  on  the 
subjects  should  be  referred  to  Rome ;  and  Ansolni  was  restored  to  liia  dig- 
nity, and,  undoubtedly,  all  the  more  powerful  both  from  the  circumstances 
which  led  to  hiii  exile  and  those  which  accompanied  his  return.  His  au- 
thority  was  scarcely  re-established  when  it  was  anpeulud  to  upon  a  sub- 
ject of  the  highest  interest  to  the  king  himself.  Matilda,  daughter  of  Mal- 
colm HI.,  king  of  Scotland  and  niece  of  Edgar  Atheling,  had  been  educa- 
ted ill  the  nunnery  of  Ramsay.  Well  knowing  how  dear  the  royal  Saxon 
lineage  of  this  lady  made  her  to  the  English  nation,  Henry  proposed  to 
espouse  her.  It  is  a  striking  instance  of  the  extent  to  which  the  public 
mind  was  enslaved  by  Rome,  that  the  mere  residence  and  education  of  this 
princess  in  a  convent,  the  mere  wearing  of  tlie  veil  without  ever  having 
taken  or  intended  to  take  the  vows,  seemed  to  make  it  doubtful  whether 
she  could  lawfully  contract  matrimony !  So  it,  however,  was ;  and  a  sol- 
emn council  of  prelates  and  nobles  was  held  at  Lambeth  to  determine  the 
Coint.  This  council  was  held  so  soon  after  the  restoration  of  Anselm  to 
is  dignity,  that  wc  may,  without  great  breach  of  charity,  suspect  that  » 
desire  to  secure  the  support  of  Anselm  upon  thi?  very  subject  was  at  least 
one  of  the  motives,  if  not  the  chief  one,  by  which  the  king  was  actuated 
in  recalling  him.  Before  this  council  Matilda  stated  that  she  had  never 
contemplated  taking  the  vows,  and  that  she  had  only  worn  the  veil,  as  it 
was  quite  commonly  worn  by  the  English  ladies,  as  a  safeguard  from  the 
violence  of  the  Norman  soldiery.  As  it  was  well  known  that  against  such 
violence  even  an  English  princess  really  had  no  other  secure  guard,  the 
council  determined  that  the  wearing  of  the  veil  by  Matilda  had  in  no  wise 
pledged  her  to  or  connected  her  with  any  religious  sisterhood,  and  that 
ihe  was  as  free  to  marry  as  though  she  had  never  worn  it.  Henry  and 
Matilda  were  married.  The  ceremony  was  performed  by  Anselm,  and  was 
accompanied  with  great  and  gorgeous  rejoicing.  This  marriage  more 
than  any  other  of  his  politic  arrangements  attached  the  Enslish  people  to 
him.  Married  to  a  Saxon  princess,  he  seemed  to  them  to  have  acquired 
a  greater  right  to  the  throne  than  any  Norman  prince,  without  that  recom- 
mendation, could  draw  from  any  other  circumstances. 

A.D.  1101. — It  soon  appeared,  thai,  great  as  Henry's  care  had  been  to 
fortify  himself  in  the  general  heart  of  the  people,  it  had  been  neither  un- 
necessary nor  excessive.  Robert,  who  had  wasted  so  much  time  in  Italy, 
returned  to  Normandy  about  a  month  after  the  death  of  his  brother  Rufus. 
Henry  had  given  no  orders  and  made  no  preparations  to  oppose  Robert's 
resumption  of  the  duchy  of  Normandy.  Possessed  of  that  point  d'appui, 
and  being  much  endeared  to  the  warlike  Norman  barons  by  his  achieve- 
ments in  the  Holy  Land,  Robert  immediately  commenced  preparations  for 
invadin?  Englau^,  and  wresting  his  birthright  from  the  usurping  hands  of 
his  brother.  Nor  were  the  wishes  for  his  success  confined  to  those  bar- 
ons who  chiefly  or  wholly  lived  in  Normandy.  On  the  contrary,  many  of 
the  great  barons  of  England  decidedly  preferred  Robert  to  Henry ;  and 
feeling  the  same  dislike  to  holding  their  English  and  Norman  possessions 
under  two  sovereigns  which  had  been  so  strongly  expressed  at  the  acces- 
sion of  William,  they  secretly  encouraged  Robert,  and  sent  him  assuran- 
ces that  they  would  join  him  with  their  levies  as  soon  as  he  should  land 
in  England.  Among  these  nobles  were  Robert  de  Belesme,  earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  William  de  Warenne,  earl  of  Surrey,  Hugh  de  Greatmesuil, 
Robert  de  Mallet,  and  others  of  the  very  highest  and  most  powerful  men 
in  England.  The  enthusiasm  in  his  favour  extended  to  the  navy;  and 
when  Henry  had,  with  great  expense  and  exertion,  made  a  fleet  ready  to 
oppose  his  brother's  landing,  the  seamen  deserted  with  the  greater  number 


twr 


THK  TRKA8URY  Of  HIMORY. 


sf  the  thipfl,  and  put  themielvnit  and  thair  vprmvIh  at  the  diapoial  of  Robert. 
This  incidflnt  gave  Iho  king  grent  alarm.  Itint  the  army,  too,  should  desert 
him,  in  which  case  not  only  Tii»  crown  bnl  his  life  would  bo  in  the  mo«t 
imminent  danger.  Henry,  notwithstanding  this  piTiI,  preserved  his  cool- 
nets,  and  did  not  allow,  as  men  too  frequently  do,  the  greatness  of  the 
danger  to  turn  away  his  attention  from  the  best  means  of  meeting  and 
overcoming  ii.  Well  knowing  the  superstition  of  the  people,  he  consid- 
ered nothing  lost  while  he  could  command  the  immense  influence  which 
Anseim  had  over  the  public  mind.  Accordingly  he  redoubled  his  court  to 
that  prelate,  and  succeeded  in  making  him  buTicve  in  the  sincerity  of  his 
professed  dosiffn  and  desire  to  rule  Justly  and  mildly.  What  he  himneW 
Armiy  believed,  Anseim  diligently  and  eloquently  inculcated  upon  the 
minds  of  others ;  and  as  his  influence  and  exertions  were  nccondod  by 
those  of  Koger  Digod,  Robert  Fitzhammond,  the  earl  of  Warwick,  and  other 
powerful  nobles  who  remained  faithful  to  Henry,  the  army  was  kept  in 
good  humour,  and  marched  in  good  order,  and  with  apparent  zcnl  a.i  well 
«s  cheerfulness,  to  Portsmouth,  where  Robert  had  landed. 

Though  the  two  armies  were  in  face  of  each  other  for  several  days,  not 
a  blow  was  struck  ;  both  sides  seeming  to  feel  reluctant  to  commonne  a 
civil  war.  Anseim  and  other  influential  men  on  either  side  took  advantage 
of  this  ptiirse  to  bring  about  a  treaty  between  the  brothers  ;  and,  after  much 
argument  and  some  delay,  it  was  ai^reed  that  Henry  should  retain  the 
crown  of  Kngland,  and  pay  an  annual  pension  of  three  thousand  marks  to 
Robert;  that  the  survivor  should  succeed  to  the  deceased  brother's  pos- 
sessions;  that  they  should  mutually  abstain  from  encouraging  or  harbour- 
ing each  others  enemies ;  and  that  the  adherents  of  both  in  the  present 
quarrel  should  be  undisturbed  in  their  possessions  and  borne  harmless  for 
all  that  had  passed. 

A.  D.  1102.— Though  Henry  agreed  with  seeming  cheerfulness  to  this 
treaty,  which  in  most  points  of  view  was  so  advantageous  to  him,  he  signed 
it  with  a  full  determination  to  break  through  at  least  one  of  its  provisioiiM. 
The  power  of  his  nobles  had  been  too  fully  manifested  to  him  in  their  en- 
couragement of  Robert  to  admit  of  his  being  otherwise  than  anxious  to 
break  it.  The  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  as  one  of  the  most  powerful  and  also 
the  most  active  of  those  who  had  given  their  adhesion  to  Robert,  was  first 
fixed  upon  by  Henry  to  be  made  an  example  of  the  danger  of  oflfending 
kings.  Spies  were  set  upon  his  every  word  and  action,  and  his  bold  and 
haughty  character  left  them  but  little  difficulty  in  finding  matter  of  offence. 
No  fewer  than  five-and-forty  articles  were  exhibited  against  him.  Ho  was 
too  well  aware  both  of  the  truth  of  some  of  the  charges,  and  of  the  rigid 
severity  with  which  he  would  be  judged,  to  deem  it  safe  to  risk  a  trial. 
He  summoned  all  the  friends  and  adherents  he  could  command,  and  threw 
himself  upon  the  chances  of  war.  But  these  were  unfavourable  to  him. 
In  the  influence  which  Anseim  possessed,  and  which  he  zealously  exerted 
on  behalf  of  the  king,  Henry  had  a  most  potent  means  of  defence,  and  he 
with  little  difficulty  reduced  the  earl  to  such  straits,  that  he  was  glad  to 
leave  the  kingdom  with  his  life.  All  his  great  possessions  were  of  course 
confiscated,  and  they  afforded  the  king  welcome  means  of  purchasing 
new  friends,  and  securing  the  fidelity  of  those  who  were  his  friends  al- 
ready. 

A.  D.  1103. — The  ruin  of  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury  produced  that  of  his 
brothers,  Roger,  earl  of  Lancaster,  and  Arnulf  de  Montgomery.  But  the 
vengeance  or  the  policy  of  the  king  required  yet  more  victims.  Robert 
de  Pontefract,  Robert  de  Mallet,  and  William  de  Warenne  were  prose- 
cuted, and  the  king's  power  secured  their  condemnation ;  and  William, 
carl  of  Cornwall,  though  son  of  the  king's  uncle,  was  deprived  of  all  his 
large  property  in  England.  The  charges  against  these  noblemen  were 
artfully  made,  not  upon  their  conduct  towards  the  king  in  his  dispute  with 


THB  TaBABURY  OF  HISTOaV. 


197 


mill. 

lim. 
Irtcd 

he 
Id  to 
lurse 
Ising 

al- 

his 

the 

Ibert 

lose- 

|iam, 

his 

vere 

nth 


nis  brother,  but  upon  thuir  miicoiiduct  toward*  lliuii  vasaalM.  !:i  thia  rti- 
•poet,  indeed,  they  worn  guilty  enough,  »■  all  the  Norman  barona  were) 
but  it  was  not  this  guilt,  which  was  equally  chargeable  upon  the  kiiig'a 
lirinest  and  most  powttrful  defenders,  for  which  they  were  prosecuted 
and  ruined.  Kohert  o{  Normandy,  with  his  characteristic  generosity  and 
imprudence,  was  so  indignant  at  the  persecution  of  his  friends,  whose 
chief  crime  in  the  king's  eyes  he  well  knew  to  be  the  friendship  they  had 
shown  to  himself,  that  ho  crossed  over  to  England  and  sharply  rebuked 
his  brother  with  the  shameful  and  ilUveiled  breach  of  a  principal  part  of 
their  treaty.  Confldeiit  in  his  kingly  power,  Henry  was  but  little  affected 
by  the  just  and  eloquent  reproaches  of  his  brother.  Un  the  «:Liitrary,  he 
BO  clearly  gave  him  to  imderstund  how  far  his  imprudent  rashness  in 
venturing  to  England  had  compromised  his  own  safety,  that  Uobert  waa 

?;lad  to  get  liberty  to  return  to  Normandy  at  the  expense  of  making  a 
ormal  resignation  of  his  pension. 

The  time  soon  came  for  Henry  to  complete  the  niin  of  the  brother 
whom  he  had  already  despoiled  of  the  fairest  and  most  precious  portion 
of  his  inheritance.  The  imprudent  thoughtlessness  and  levity  of  Robert 
not  merely  affected  his  conduct  as  far  as  he  himself  was  concerned;  it 
made  him  wholly  unfit  to  rule,  and  opened  the  widest  possible  doors  to 
the  needy  and  the  profligate,  the  avaricious  and  the  tyrannicdl  among  his 
turbulent  and  unprincipled  barons  to  plunder  him,  as  well  as  to  rob  and 
then  ill-treat  his  unfortunate  subjects.  A  monarch  who  was  so  utterly 
careless  tjiat  his  domestic  servants  plundered  him,  not  merely  of  the  little 
money  which  his  prodigal  habits  left  to  him,  but  even  of  :.  .>  clothes  and 
furniture,  was  but  ill  fitted  to  preserve  his  subjects  from  the  ill-treatment 
of  the  most  licentious  nobility  in  all  Europe.  And  it  was  very  natural, 
that  when  the  more  thoughtful  and  observant  among  the  Normans  con- 
trusted  the  loose  government  of  Robert — if  indeed  it  deserved  the  name 
of  a  government  at  all — with  the  steady,  firm,  and  orderly  rule  of  Henry 
over  a  much  larger  and  more  important  state,  they  should  begin  to  think, 
and  to  whisper,  too,  that  even  a  usurper,  such  as  Henry,  was  far  better 
for  the  welfare  of  his  subjects,  than  auch  a  legitimate,  but  utterly  inca* 
pable,  ruler  as  the  good-natured  and  generous,  but  extravagant  and  de 
bauched  Robert.  Disorders  at  length  rose  to  such  a  height  in  Normandy, 
as  to  give  Henry  a  pretext  for  going  over,  nominally  to  mediate  between 
the  opposing  parties,  but,  in  reality,  personally  to  observe  how  far  affairs 
were  in  train  to  admit  of  his  depriving  his  brother  of  the  duchy  alto- 
gether. Skilled  in  every  art  of  intrigue,  and  having  both  the  means  and 
the  will  to  bribe  most  profusely,  Henry  soon  formed  a  strong  party  ;  and 
having  returned  to  England  and  raised  the  necessaiy  force  by  the  most 
shameless  and  unsparing  extortion,  he,  in  1105,  landed  again  in  Nor- 
mandy, no  longer  under  the  hypocriticaJ  pretence  of  mediating,  but  with 
the  avowed  purpose  of  conquering,  if  possible.  He  laid  siege  to  Bayeux, 
and,  although  obstinately  and  bravely  resisted,  at  length  took  that  place 
by  storm.  Caen  he  prepared  to  besiege,  but  it  was  surrendered  to  him 
by  the  inhabitants.  He  then  laid  siege  to  Falaise,  but  here  he  was  suc- 
cessfully opposed  until  the  setting  in  of  the  winter  compelled  him  to  raise 
the  siege. 

A.  D.  1106. — With  the  return  of  favourable  weather  Henry  returned  to 
Normandy  and  recommenced  his  operations,  opening  the  campaign  with 
the  siege  of  Tinchebray  with  a  force  so  mighty  that  it  was  quite  evident 
he  contemplated  nothing  short  of  the  entire  subjugation  of  Normandy. 
It  required  all  the  success  that  Henry  had  as  yet  achieved,  and  all  the 
persuasions  of  his  own  friends,  to  arouse  Robert  from  his  lethargy  of 
natural  indolence  and  sensual  pleasure.  But  once  roused,  he  showed  that 
the  warrior  had  slumbered,  indeed,  in  his  heart,  but  was  not  dead.  Aided 
by  Robert  de  Belcsme,  and  by  the  earl  of  Mortaigne,  the  king'*  uncle 


It» 


THE  TRBASURY  OP  HI8T0RT. 


who  was  inveterately  opposed  to  Henry  on  account  of  his  treatment  vi 
Mortaiene's  son,  William,  earl  of  Cornwall,  Robert  speedilv  raised  a 
powerlul  force  and  marched  against  his  brother,  in  the  hope  of  putting  an 
end  to  their  controversies  in  a  single  battle.  Animated  at  being  led  by 
the  valiant  prince-whose  feats  on  the  plains  of  Palestine  had  struck  tei  ror 
into  Pagan  hearts,  and  won  the  applause  of  Christian  Europe,  Robert's 
troops  charged  so  boldly  and  so  well,  that  the  English  were  thrown  into 
confusion.  Had  the  Norman  success  been  well  followed  up  by  the  whole 
of  their  force,  nothing  could  have  saved  the  English  army  from  defeat 
and  destruction.  But  the  troops  of  Roger  de  Belesme  were  suddenly  and 
most  unaccountably  seized  with  a  panic,  which  communicated  itself  to 
the  rest  of  the  Normans.  Henry  and  his  friends  skilfully  and  promptly 
availed  themselves  of  this  sudden  turn  in  the  state  of  affairs,  charged  the 
enemy  again  and  again,  and  entirely  routed  them,  killing  vast  numbers  and 
iiaking  ten  thousand  prisoners,  among  whom  was  Robert  himself. 

This  great  victory  gained  by  Henry  was  soon  after  crowned  by  the 
Mrrender  of  Rouen  and  Falaise ;  and  Henry  now  became  completely 
master  of  Normandy,  having  also  got  into  his  power  Robert's  son,  the 
young  prince  William,  who  was  unfortunately  in  Falaise  when  that  im- 
portant post  surrendered.  As  though  there  had  been  nothing  of  violence 
or  unfairness  in  his  conduct,  Henry  now  convoked  the  states  of  Normandy 
and  received  their  homage  as  though  he  had  been  rightfully  their  duke; 
after  which,  havmg  dismantled  such  fortresses  as  he  deemed  dangerous 
to  his  interests,  and  revoked  the  grants  which  Robert's  foolish  facility  had 
induced  him  to  make,  he  returned  to  England,  taking  his  unfortunate 
brother  with  him  as  a  prisoner,  and  committing  young  William  to  the 
custody  of  Helie  de  St.  Laen,  who  had  married  Robert's  natural  da>igh- 
ter,  and  who  treated  the  captive  prince  with  a  tenderness  and  respect 
which  do  him  the  highest  honour.  Robert  himself  was  committed  to  the 
custody  of  the  governor  of  Cardiff  castle  in  Wales,  where  for  twenty- 
eight  years,  the  whole  remainder  of  his  life,  he  remained  a  melancholy 
spectacle  of  fallen  greatness,  and  a  striking  example  of  the  uselessness 
of  courage  without  conduct,  and  of  the  danger  of  generosity  if  unregu- 
lated by  prudence. 

At  the  battle  of  Tinchebray,  so  fatal  to  Duke  Robert,  his  friend  Edgar 
Atheling  was  taken  prisoner.  Though  on  more  than  one  occasion  this 
prince  gave  signal  proofs  of  bravery,  both  his  friends  and  his  enemies 
seem  to  have  held  his  intellect  in  considerable  contempt.  The  two  Wil- 
liams and  Henry  I.,  princes  of  such  different  qualities,  yet  so  perfectly 
agreeing  in  despotic  and  jealous  tempers,  equally  held  his  powers  of  ex- 
citing the  English  to  revolt  in  the  utmost  scorn.  Though  his  Saxon  de- 
scent could  not  but  endear  him  to  the  English  people,  and  though  both  at 
home  and  in  the  Holy  Land  he  had  provea  himself  to  possess  very  high 
courage,  there  was  so  general  and  apparently  so  well  founded  an  opinion 
of  his  deficiency  in  the  higher  intellectual  qualities,  that  neither  did  the 
Saxons  look  up  to  him,  as  otherwise  they  gladly  would  have  done,  as  a 
a  rallying  point,  nor  did  the  Normans  houour  him  with  their  suspicious 
fear.  Even  now  when  Henry,  whose  treatment  of  his  own  brother  suf- 
ficiently proves  how  inexorable  he  could  be  where  he  saw  cause  to  fear 
injury  to  his  interests,  had  so  fair  an  excuse  for  committing  Edgar  to  safe 
custody,  he  showed  his  entire  disbelief  of  that  prince's  capacity,  by  al- 
lowing him  to  enjoy  his  full  liberty  in  England,  and  even  granting  him  a 
pension. 

A.  D.  1107. — Henry's  politic  character  and  his  judgment  were  both  em- 
inently displayed  in  managing  his  very  delicate  dispute  with  the  nope  on 
the  subject  of  ecclesiastical  investitures.  While  showing  the  most  pro- 
found external  respect,  and  even  affection,  to  both  the  pope  and  Arch- 
Ihishop  Anselm,  Henry  proceeded  to  fill  the  vacant  sees  concerning  whic-l 


THE  TUKA8U11Y  OF  HISTORY. 


199 


OD 

j)ro- 
fch- 


there  was  dispute.  But  Anselm,  though  he  had  been  on  many  important 
occasions  a  staunch  and  useful  friend  to  the  king,  was  far  too  good  a 
churchman  to  brook  disobedience  to  the  papal  authority,  even  when  that 
disobedience  was  veiled  by  smiles,  and  couched  in  gentle  and  holiday 
terms.  He  refused  to  communicate  with,  far  less  to  consecrate,  the  bishops 
invested  by  the  king ;  and  those  prelates  saw  themselves  exposed  to  so 
murh  obloquy  by  their  opposition  to  so  revered  a  personage  as  Anselm, 
that  they  resigned  their  dignities  into  the  king's  hands.  The  complete 
defeat  of  a  scheme  which  he  had  prosecuted  with  such  dexterous  and 

Stainful  art,  deprived  the  king  of  his  usual  command  of  temper,  and  he  let 
all  such  significant  threats  towards  all  opponents  of  his  authority,  that 
Anselm  became  alarmed  for  his  personal  safety,  and  demanded  permis- 
sion to  travel  to  Rome  to  consult  the  pope.  Well  knowing  the  popularity 
of  Anselm,  Henry  was  very  well  pleased  to  be  thus  peaceably  rid  of  his 
presence.  Anselm  departed,  and  was  attended  to  the  ship  by  hosts  of 
both  clergy  and  laity,  who,  by  the  cordial  respect  with  which  they  took 
their  leave  of  him,  tacitly,  but  no  less  plainly,  testified  their  sense  of  the 
justice  of  his  quarrel  with  their  sovereign. 

As  soon  as  Anselm  had  left  England  the  king  seized  upon  all  the  tern 
poralities  of  his  see ;  and,  fearful  lest  the  presence  of  Anselm  at  Rome 
should  prejudice  him  and  his  kingdom,  he  sent  William  de  Warelwast  as 
ambassador  extraordinary  to  Pascal,  the  pope.  In  the  course  of  the  ar- 
gument between  the  pope  and  the  king  of  England's  envoy,  the  latter 
warmly  exclaimed  that  his  sovereign  would  rather  part  with  his  crown 
than  with  the  rig'^t  9f  investiture  ;  to  which  Pascal  as  warmly  replied, 
that  he  would  rather  part  with  his  head  than  allow  the  king  to  retain  that 
right.  Anselm  retired  to  Lyons,  and  thence  to  his  old  monastery  of 
Bee.  The  king  restored  him  the  revenues  of  his  sees,  and  great  anxiety 
was  expressed  by  all  ranks  of  men  for  his  return  to  England,  where  his 
absence  was  affirmed  to  be  the  cause  of  all  imaginable  impiety,  and  of 
the  most  gross  and  disgusting  immorality.  The  disputes,  meantime,  be- 
tween Henry  and  the  pope  grew  warmer  and  warmer.  The  emperor, 
Henry  V.,  and  the  pope  were  at  feud  on  the  same  subject,  and  the  pope 
()eing  made  an  actual  prisoner,  was  compelled  by  a  formal  treaty  lo  grant 
the  emperor  the  right  of  investiture.  The  king  of  England  was  less  ad- 
vantageously situated  than  the  emperor.  He  could  not,  by  getting  the 
pope  into  his  power,  cut  the  Gordian  knot  of  the  controversy  between 
them.  The  earl  of  Mellent  and  other  ministers  of  Henry  were  already 
suffering  under  the  pains  of  excommunication :  Henry  himself  was  in 
daily  expectation  of  hearing  the  like  dreadful  sentence  pronounced  on 
himself,  and  he  well  knew  that  he  had  numerous  and  powerful  enemies 
among  his  nobles  who  would  both  gladly  and  promptly  avail  themselves 
of  it  to  throw  off  their  uneasy  allegiance.  He  and  the  pope  were  mu- 
tually afraid,  and  a  compromise  was  at  length  entered  into,  by  which  the 
pope  had  the  right  of  ecclesiastical  investiture,  while  Henry  had  the  right 
of  demanding  homage  from  the  prelates  for  their  temporalities.  The 
main  difference  being  thus  settled,  minor  points  presented  no  difUculties, 
and  Henry  now  had  leisure  to  turn  his  attention  to  Normandy. 

In  committing  the  natural  son  of  his  brother  Robert  to  the  careofHelie, 
Henry  was  probably  desirous  to  show  the  world,  by  the  unblemished  char- 
acter of  the  man  to  whom  he  entrusted  the  infant  prince,  then  only  six 
years  old,  that  he  meant  fairly  by  him.  But  as  the  young  prince  grew  up, 
and  became  remarkable  for  talent  and  gracefulness  of  person,  he  acquired 
a  popularity  which  gave  so  much  uneasiness  to  Henry,  that  he  ordered 
nis  guardian  to  give  up  his  young  ward.  Helie,  probably  doubtful  of  the 
king's  intentions,  yet  feeling  himself  unable  to  shelter  him  should  the  king 
resort  to  force,  immediately  placed  young  William  under  the  protection 
of  Fulke.  count  of  Anjou.    The  protection  of  this  gallant  and  eminent  no- 


too 


THE  TEBA8UEV  OF  HI8T0EY, 


Me  and  his  own  singular  graces,  enabled  William  to  create  rreat  inteieit 
on  his  behair,  and  at  every  court  which  he  visited  he  was  able  to  excite 
the  greatest  indignation  against  the  injustice  with  which  his  uncle  h&d  treat- 
ed  him.  Louis  le  Gros,  king  of  France,  joined  with  Fulke,  count  of  An- 
Jou,  and  the  count  of  Flanders,  in  disturbing  Henry  in  his  unjust  posses- 
sion of  Normandy,  and  many  skirmishes  took  place  upon  the  frontiers. 
But  before  the  war  could  produce  any  decisive  results,  Henry,  with  his 
customary  artful  policy,  detached  Fulke  from  the  league  by  marrying  his 
son  William  to  that  prince's  daughter.  The  peace  consequent  upon  this 
withdrawal  of  Fulke  did  not  last  long.  Henry's  nephew  was  agam  taken 
in  hand  by  the  gallnnt  Baldwin  of  Flanders,  who  induced  the  king  oi 
France  to  join  in  renewing  the  attack  upon  Normandy.  In  the  action 
near  Eu  Baldwin  was  slain  ;  and  the  king  of  France,  despairing,  after  the 
loss  of  so  capital  an  ally,  of  liberating  Normandy  from  the  power  of 
Henry  bv  force  of  arms,  resolved  to  try  another  method,  of  which,  proba- 
bly, he  did  not  perceive  all  the  remote  and  possible  consequences. 

The  papal  court  had  always  manifested  a  more  than  sufficient  inclina- 
tion to  mterfere'  in  the  temporal  concerns  of  the  nations  of  Christendom ; 
and  Louis  now  most  unwisely  gave  sanction  and  force  to  that  ambitious 
and  insidious  assumption,  by  appealing  to  Rome  on  behalf  of  youne  Wil- 
liam. A  general  council  having  been  assembled  by  the  pope  at  Rheims, 
Louis  took  his  proteg6  there,  represented  the  tyranny  of  Henry's  conduct 
towards  both  the  young  prince  and  his  father,  and  strongly  and  eloquent- 
ly dwelt  upon  the  impropriety  of  the  church  and  the  Christian  powers  al- 
lowing so  trusty  and  gallant  a  champion  of  the  cross  to  linger  on  in  his 
melancholy  imprisonment.  Whatever  might  be  the  personal  feelings  ot 
Calixtus  II.,  the  then  pope,  he  showed  himself  strongly  inclined  to  inter- 
fere on  behalf  of  both  William  and  his  father.  But  Henry  was  now,  as 
ever,  alert  and  skilful  in  the  defence  of  his  own  interest.  The  English 
bishops  were  allowed  by  him  to  attend  this  council ;  but  he  gave  them 
fair  notice  at  their  departure,  that  whatever  might  be  the  demands  or  de- 
cisions of  the  council,  he  was  fully  determined  to  maintain  the  laws  and 
customs  of  England  and  his  own  prerogative.  "Go,"  said  he,  as  thev 
took  leave  of  him,  "  salute  the  pope  in  my  name,  and  listen  to  his  apostol- 
ical precepts  ;  but  be  mindful  that  ye  bring  back  none  of  his  new  inven- 
tions into  my  kingdom."  But  while  he  thus  outwardly  manifested  his 
determination  to  support  himself  even  against  the  hostility  of  the  church, 
he  took  the  most  effectual  means  to  prevent  that  hostility  from  being  ex- 
hibited. The  most  liberal  presents  and  promises  were  distributed ;  and 
so  effectually  did  he  conciliate  the  pope,  that  having  shortly  afterwards 
had  an  interview  with  Henry,  he  pronounced  him  to  be  beyond  compari- 
Bon  the  most  eloquent  and  persuasive  man  he  had  ever  spoken  with. 
Upon  this  high  eulogy  of  the  sovereign  pontiff,  Hume,  with  dry  causticity, 
remarks,  that  Henry  at  this  interview  "had  probably  renewed  his  presents." 
Louis,  finding  that  he  was  out-manoeuvred  by  Henry  in  the  way  of  in- 
trigue, renewed  his  attempts  upon  Normandy  in  the  way  of  arms.  He 
made  an  attempt  to  surprise  Noyen,  bnt  Henry's  profuse  liberality  caused 
him  to  be  well  served  by  his  spies,  and  he  suddenly  fell  upon  the  French 
troops.  A  severe  action  ensued,  and  Prince  William,  who  was  present, 
uehaved  with  great  distinction.  Henry  also  was  present,  and,  penetrating 
with  his  customary  gallantry  into  the  very  thickest  of  the  fight  was  se- 
verely wounded  by  Crispin,  a  Norman  officer  in  the  French  army.  Hen- 
ry, who  possessed  great  personal  strength,  struck  Crispin  to  the  earth, 
and  led  his  troops  onward  in  a  charge  so  fierce  and  heavy,  that  the  French 
were  utterly  routed,  and  Louis  himself  only  escaped  with  great  difficulty 
from  being  made  prisoner.  The  result  of  this  action  so  discouraged  Louitf 
that  he  shortly  afterwards  entered  into  a  treaty  with  Henry,  in  which  th« 


;■/ 


in- 


V-- 

^.z.-^ 

--=' 

.-?si 

'----'-n 

i 

:5^K-i 

r^ 

':;p* 

.V  ■  ■  :*- 

A4 

Pkath  or  Princx  William  and  his  Siitxr. 


TUR  TFJBASURY  OF  HISTORY 


301 


nterests  or  William  and  the  liberty  o(  Robert  were  wboUy  left  out  of 
the  question. 

Thus  far  the  career  of  king  Henry  had  been  one  unbroken  series  of 
prosperity ;  he  was  now,  under  circumstances  the  least  to  have  been 
feared,  doomed  to  suffer  a  very  terrible  misfortune.  Judging  from  the  fa- 
cility with  which  he  had  usurped  the  crown  of  Englund  and  the  duchy  ol 
Normandy,  that  similar  wrong — as  he  chose  to  call  it,  though  wrong  it 
would  surely  not  have  been — might  easily  be  done  to  his  own  son,  unless 
proper  precautions  were  taken,  he  accompanied  his  son  William  to  Nor- 
mandy, and  caused  him  to  be  recognized  as  his  successor  by  the  states, 
and  to  receive  in  that  character  the  homage  of  the  barons.  This  impor- 
tant step  being  taken,  the  king  and  the  prince  embarked  at  Barfleur  on 
their  return  to  England.  The  weather  was  fair,  and  the  vessel  which 
conveyed  the  king  and  his  immediate  attendants  left  the  coast  in  safety, 
lomething  caused  the  prince  to  remain  on  shore  after  his  father  had  de- 
parted; and  the  captain  and  sailors  of  the  ship,  being  greatly  intoxicated, 
tailed,  in  their  anxiety  to  overtake  the  king,  with  so  much  more  haste 
than  skill,  that  they  ran  the  ship  upon  a  rock,  and  she  immediately  be- 
fan  to  sink.  William  was  safely  got  in  the  long  boat,  and  had  even  been 
towed  some  distance  from  the  ship  when  the  screams  of  his  natural  sis- 
ter, the  countess  of  Perche,  who  in  the  hurry  had  been  left  behind,  com- 
pelled his  boat's  crew  to  return  and  endeavour  to  save  her.  The  instant 
that  the  boat  approached  the  ship's  side,  so  many  persons  leaped  in,  that 
the  boat  also  foundered,  and  William  and  all  his  attendants  perished ;  a 
fearful  loss,  there  being  on  board  the  ill-fated  ship  no  fewer  than  a  hundred 
and  forty  English  and  Norman  gentlemen  of  the  bust  families.  Filzste- 
phen,  the  captain,  to  whose  intemperance  this  sad  calamity  was  mainly 
attributable,  and  a  butcher  of  Rouen  clung  to  the  mast ;  but  the  former 
voluntarily  loosed  his  hold  and  sank  on  hearing  that  the  prince  had  perished. 
The  butcher,  free  from  cause  of  remorse,  resolutely  kept  his  grasp, 
and  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  picked  up  by  some  fishermen  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning. 

When  news  reached  Henry  of  the  loss  of  the  vessel,  he  for  a  few  days 
buoyed  himself  up  with  the  hope  that  his  son  had  been  saved ;  but  when 
the  full  extent  of  the  calamity  had  been  ascertained  he  fainted ;  and  so 
violent  was  his  grief,  that  he  was  never  afterwards  known  to  smile.  So 
deeply  could  he  suffer  under  his  own  calamity,  though  so  stern  and  un- 
blenching  in  the  infliction  of  calamity  upon  others. 

The  death  of  Prince  William,  the  only  legitimate  male  issue  of  Henry, 
was,  as  will  be  perceived  in  the  history  of  the  next  reign,  not  merely  an  indi- 
dividual  calamity,  but  also  a  most  serious  national  one,  in  so  far  as  it  gave 
rise  to  much  civil  strife.  But  it  was  probable  that  William  would  have 
been  a  very  severe  king,  for  he  was  known  to  threaten  that  whenever  he 
came  to  the  throne  he  would  work  the  English  like  mere  beasts  of  burden. 
The  early  Norman  rulers,  in  fact,  however  policy  might  occasionally  in 
duce  them  to  disguise  it,  detested  and  scorned  their  English  subjects. 

Prince  William,  son  of  the  wronged  and  imprisoned  duke  of  Normandy, 
gtill  enjoyed  the  friendship  and  protection  of  the  French  king,  though 
circumstances  had  induced  that  monarch  apparently  to  abandon  the 
prince's  interest,  in  making  a  treaty  with  Henry.  The  death  of  Henry's 
son,  too,  broke  off  the  connection  between  Henry  and  the  count  of  An- 
iou,  who  now  again  took  up  the  cause  of  Prince  William,  and  gave  him 
his  daughter  in  marriage.  Even  this  connection,  however,  between 
Fulke  and  William  did  not  prevent  the  artful  policy  of  Henry  from  again 
securing  the  friendship  of  the  former.  Matilda,  Henry's  daughter,  who 
was  married  to  the  emperor  Henry  V.,  was  left  a  widow  ;  and  the  king 
uow  gave  her  in  marri-nge  to  (Jeoffrey  Plantagenet,  earl  of  Anjou,  and  he 
at  the  same  time  caused  her  to  receive,  as  his  successor,  the  homage  of 
the  nobles  and  clergy  of  both  Normandy  and  England. 


m 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HlflTOIlY. 


In  the  meantime  Prince  William  of  Normandy  was  greatly  strengthened. 
Charles,  earl  of  Flanders,  was  assassinated,  and  his  dignity  and  potses- 
sions  were  immediately  bestowed  by  the  king  of  France  upon  Prince 
William.  But  this  piece  of  seeming  good  fortune,  though  it  undoubtedly 
gave  greater  strength  to  William's  party  and  rendered  his  recovery  of 
Normandy  more  probable,  led  in  the  result,  to  his  destruction ;  so  blind 
are  we  in  all  that  relates  to  our  future !  The  landgrave  of  Alsace,  deeming 
his  own  claim  upon  Flanders  superior  to  that  of  William,  who  claimed 
only  from  the  wife  of  the  Conqueror,  and  who  moreover  was  illegitimate, 
attempted  to  possess  himself  of  it  by  force  of  arms,  and  almost  in  the  first 
skirmish  that  took  place  William  was  killed. 

Many  disputes  during  all  this  time  had  taken  place  between  Henry 
and  the  pope ;  chiefly  upon  the  right  to  which  the  latter  pretended  of 
having  a  legate  resident  in  England.  As  legates  possessed  in  their  re- 
spective provinces  the  full  powers  of  the  pope,  and,  in  their  anxiety  to 
please  that  great  giver  and  source  of  their  power,  were  ever  disposed  to 
push  the  papal  authority  to  the  utmost,  the  king  constantly  showed  a  great 
and  wise  anxiety  to  prevent  this  manifestly  dangerous  encroachment  of 
Rome.  After  much  manceuvringon  both  sides,  an  arrangement  was  made 
by  which  the  legate  power  was  conferred  upon  the  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury ;  and  thus  while  Rome  kept,  nominally  at  least,  a  control  over  that 
power,  Henry  prevented  it  being  committed  to  any  use  disagreeable  to 
nim,  and  had,  moreover,  a  security  for  the  legate's  moderation  in  the  kingly 
power  over  the  archbishop's  temporalities. 

A  perfect  peace  reigning  in  all  parts  of  England,  Henry  spent  pan  of 
1131  and  1132  in  Normandy  with  his  daughter  Matilda,  of  whom  he  was 
passionately  fond.  While  he  was  there  Matilda  was  delivered  of  a  son, 
who  was  christened  by  the  name  of  Henry.  In  the  midst  of  the  rejoicing 
this  event  caused  to  the  king,  he  was  summoned  to  England  by  an  incur- 
sion made  by  the  Welsh  ;  and  he  was  just  about  to  return  when  he  was 
seized,  at  St.  Dennis  le  Forment,  by  a  fatal  illness,  attributed  to  his 
having  eaten  lampreys  to  excess,  and  he  expired  Dec.  1, 1135,  in  the 
thirty-fifth  year  of  his  reign  and  sixty-seventh  of  his  age. 

Though  a  usurper,  and  though  somewhat  prone  to  a  tyrannous  exertion 
of  his  usurped  authority,  Henry  at  least  deserves  the  praise  of  having 
been  an  able  monarch.  He  preserved  the  peace  of  his  dominions  under 
circumstances  of  great  difiiculty,  and  protected  its  interest  against  at- 
tempts under  which  ?,  Irjss  firm  and  politic  prince  would  have  been  crushed. 
He  had  no  fewer  than  thirteen  illegitimate  children.  Other  vices  he  was 
tolerably  free  from  in  his  private  capacity ;  but  in  protecting  his  resources 
for  the  chase,  of  which,  like  all  the  Norman  princes,  he  was  passionately 
enamoured,  he  was  guilty  of  every  unjustifiable  cruelty.  In  the  general 
administralion  of  justice  he  was  very  severe.  Coining  was  punished  by 
him  with  death  or  the  most  terrible  mutilation,  and  on  one  occasion  fifty 
persons  charged  with  that  offence  were  subjected  to  this  horrible  mode  ot 
torture.  It  was  in  this  reign  that  wardmotes,. common-halls,  a  court  of 
hustings,  the  liberty  of  hunting  in  Middlesex  and  Surrey — a  great  and 
honourable  privilege  at  that  time — the  right  to  elect  its  own  sheriff  and 
justiciary,  and  to  hold  pleas  of  the  crown,  trials  by  combat,  and  lodging 
of  the  king's  retinue,  were  granted  to  the  city  of  London. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  REIGN  OF  STEPHEN. 

A.  D.  1135.— The  will  of  Henry  I.  left  the  kingdom  of  England  and  the 
duchy  of  Normandy  to  his  daughter  Matilda.    By  the  precautions  which 


THB  TBBASURY  OF  HISTOaY. 


i203 


Hie 
icl) 


ne  had  taken  it  was  very  evident  that  he  reared  lest  any  one  should  imi 
tate  the  irregularity  by  which  he  himself  had  mounted  to  power.  Stran^rely 
enough,  however,  the  attempt  he  anticipated,  and  so  carefullv  provided 
against,  was  made  by  one  who  to  Henry's  own  patronage  and  liberality 
owed  his  chief  power  to  oppose  Henry's  daughter.  A  new  proof,  if  such 
were  wanting,  of  the  blinaness  on  particular  points  of  even  ttie  most  poli- 
tin  and  prudent  men. 

Adela,  daughter  of  William  the  Conqueror,  was  married  to  Stephen, 
count  of  Blois.  Two  of  her  sons,  Henry  and  Stephen,  were  invited  to 
England  by  Henry  I.,  who  behaved  to  them  with  the  profuse  liberality 
which  he  was  ever  prone  to  show  to  those  whom  he  took  into  his  favour. 
Henry  was  made  abbot  of  Glastonbury  and  bishop  of  Winchester,  and 
Stephen  was  even  more  highly  favoured  by  the  king,  who  married  him  to 
Matilda,  daughter  and  heiress  ol  Eustace,  count  of  Boulogne,  by  which 
marriage  he  acquired  both  the  fe  idal  sovereignty  of  Boulogne  as  well  as 
enormous  landed  property  in  Er.gland.  Subsequently  the  king  still  far- 
ther enriched  Stephen  by  conferring  upon  him  the  forfeited  possessions 
of  the  earl  of  Mortaigne,  in  Normandy,  and  of  Robert  de  Mallet  in  Eng- 
land. The  king  fondly  imagined  that  by  thus  honouring  and  aggrandiz- 
ing Stephen  he  was  raising  up  a  fast  and  powerful  friend  for  his  daughter 
whenever  she  should  come  to  the  throne,  and  the  conduct  of  Stephen  was 
so  wily  and  skilful,  that  to  the  very  hour  of  Henry's  death  he  contrived 
to  confirm  him  in  this  delusion.  Brave,  active,  generous  and  affable,  he 
was  a  very  general  favourite ;  but  while  he  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost 
to  retain  and  increase  his  popularity,  especially  among  the  Londoners, 
of  whom  he  anticipated  making  great  use  in  the  ultimate  scheme  he  had  in 
view,  he  took  good  care  to  keep  those  efforts  from  the  king's  knowledge. 
He  professed  himself  the  fast  friend  and  re(.dy  champion  of  the  princess 
Matilda,  and  when  the  barons  were  required  by  the  king  to  do  homage  to 
her,  as  the  successor  to  the  crown,  Stephen  actually  had  a  violent  dis- 
pute with  Robert,  earl  of  Gloucester,  who  was  a  natural  son  of  the  king, 
AS  to  which  of  them  should  first  take  the  oath ! 

But  with  all  this  lip-loyalty  to  the  king  and  seeming  devotion  to  the 
princess,  Stephen  seems  all  along  to  have  harboured  the  most  ungrateful 
and  faithless  intentions.  The  moment  the  king  had  ceased  to  live  he 
hurried  over  to  England  to  seize  upon  the  crown.  His  designs  having 
been  made  known  at  Dover  and  Canterbury,  the  citizens  of  both  those 
places  honourably  refused  to  admit  him.  Nothing  daunted  by  this  honest 
rebuke  of  his  ungrateful  design,  he  hurried  on  to  London,  where  he  had 
emissaries  in  his  pay,  who  caused  him  to  be  hailed  as  king  by  a  multi- 
tude of  the  common  sort. 

The  first  step  being  thus  made,  he  next  busied  himself  in  obtaining  the 
sanction  and  suffrage  of  the  clergy.  So  much  weight  was  in  that  age 
attached  to  the  ceremony  of  unction  in  the  coronation,  that  he  considered 
it  but  little  likely  that  Matilda  would  ever  be  able  to  dethrone  him  if  he 
could  so  far  secure  the  clergy  as  to  have  his  coronation  performed  in  due 
order  and  with  the  usual  formalities.  In  this  important  part  of  his  daring 
scheme  good  service  was  done  to  him  by  his  brother  Henry,  bishop  of 
Winchester,  who  caused  the  bishop  of  Salisbury  to  join  him  in  persuad- 
ing William,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  to  give  Stephen  the  royal  unction. 
The  primate  having,  in  common  with  all  the  nobility,  taken  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  Matilda,  was  unwilling  to  comply  with  so  startling  a  step; 
but  his  reluctance,  whether  real  or  assumed,  gave  way  when  Roger 
Bigod,  who  held  the  important  office  of  steward  of  the  household,  made 
sath  that  Henry  on  his  death-bed  had  evinced  his  displeasure  with  Matilda, 
and  expressed  his  deliberate  preference  of  Stephen  as  his  successor. 
[t  is  not  easy  to  believe  that  so  shrewd  a  person  as  the  archbishop  really 
(ave  any  credence  to  this  shallow  tale,  but  he  affected  to  do  so,  and  upon 


i04 


THE  TaEABUnV  OF  HI8TOEY. 


Its  authority  crowned  Stephen.    The  coronation  was  but  meagrely  atter 
ded  by  the  nobles ;  yet,  as  none  of  them  made  any  open  opposition,  Ste* 

Ehen  proceeded  to  exercise  the  royal  authority  its  coolly  as  though  ht 
ad  ascended  the  throne  by  the  double  right  of  consent  of  the  people  am 
heirship. 

Having  seized  upon  the  royal  treasure,  which  amounted  to  upwards  o* 
a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  Stephen  was  able  to  surround  his  usurped 
throne  with  an  immense  number  of  foreign  mercenaries.  While  he  thug 
provided  against  open  force,  he  also  took  the  precaution  to  endeavour,  by 
the  apparent  justice  of  his  intentions,  to  obliterate  from  the  general  mem- 
ory,  and  especijiUy  from  the  minds  of  the  clergy,  all  thought  of  the 
shameful  irregularity  and  ingratitude  by  which  be  had  obtained  the  throne. 
He  published  a  charter  calculated  to  interest  all  ranks  of  men,  promising 
to  anolish  Datiegelt,  generally  to  restore  the  laws  of  King  Kdward,to  cor- 
rect all  abuses  of  the  forest  laws,  and — with  an  especial  view  to  concili- 
ating the  clergy— to  fill  all  benefices  as  they  should  become  vacant,  and 
to  levy  no  rents  upon  them  while  vacant.  He  at  the  same  time  applied 
for  the  sanction  of  the  pope,  who,  well  knowing  what  advantage  posses- 
sion must  give  Stephen  over  the  absent  Matilda,  and  being,  besides,  well 
pleased  to  be  called  upon  to  interfere  in  the  temporal  aflfairs  of  England, 
very  readily  gave  it  in  a  bull,  which  Stephen  took  great  care  to  make 
public  throughout  England. 

In  Normandy  the  same  success  attended  Stephen,  who  had  his  eldest 
son,  Eustace,  put  in  possession  of  the  duchy  on  doing  homage  to  the  king 
of  France ;  and  Geoffrey,  Matilda's  husband,  found  himself  reduced  to 
such  straits  that  he  was  fain  to  enter  into  a  truce  with  Stephen,  the  latter 
consenting  to  pay,  during  the  two  years  for  which  it  was  made,  a  pen- 
sion of  five  thousand  marks.  Though  Stephen  was  thus  far  so  success* 
ful,  there  were  several  circumstances  which  were  calculated  to  cause 
him  considerable  apprehension  and  perplexity.  Robert,  a  natural  son  ol 
the  late  king,  by  whom  he  had  been  created  earl  of  Gloucester,  possessed 
considerable  ability  and  influence,  and  was  very  much  attached  to  Ma- 
tilda, in  whose  wrongs'  he  could  not  fail  to  take  a  great  interest.  This 
nobleman,  who  was  in  Normandy  when  Stephen  usurped  the  throne  ol 
England,  was  looked  upon  both  by  the  friends  and  the  enemies  of  Stephen 
as  the  most  likely  person  to  head  any  open  opposition  to  the  usurper. 
In  truth,  the  earl  was  placed  in  a  very  delicate  and  trying  situation.  On 
the  one  hand,  he  was  exceedingly  zealous  in  the  cause  of  Matilda;  on  the 
other  hand  to  refuse  when  required  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  Ste- 
phen, was  inevitably  to  bring  ruin  upon  his  fortunes,  as  far  as  Eng/and 
was  concerned.  In  this  perplexing  dilemma  he  resolved  to  take  a  middle 
course,  and,  by  avoiding  an  open  rupture  with  Stephen,  secure  to  himself 
the  liberty  and  means  of  acting  according  to  the  dictates  of  his  conscience, 
should  circumstances  become  more  favourable  to  Matilda.  He  therefore 
consented  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  Stephen,  on  condition  that  the 
king  should  duly  perform  all  that  he  had  promised,  and  that  he  should  in 
no  wise  curtail  or  infringe  the  rights  or  dignities  of  the  earl.  This  singu- 
lar and  very  unusual  reservation  clearly  enough  proved  to  Stephen  that 
he  was  to  look  upon  the  earl  as  his  good  and  loyal  subject  just  so  long  as 
there  seemed  to  be  no  chance  of  a  successful  revolt,  and  no  longer;  but 
the  earl  was  so  powerful  and  popular  that  he  did  not  think  it  safe  to  re- 
fuse his  oath  of  fealty,  even  on  these  unusual  terms. 

Though  we  correctly  call  these  terms  unusual,  we  do  so  only  with  ref- 
erence to  former  reigns ;  Stephen  was  obliged  to  consent  to  them  in  still 
more  important  cases  than  that  of  the  earl  of  Gloucester.  The  clergy, 
finding  the  king  willing  to  sacrifice  to  expediency,  and  well  knowing  how 
inexpedient  he  wonld  find  it  to  quarrel  with  their  powerful  body,  would 
only  give  him  their  oath  of  allegiance  with  the  reservation  that  theit 


THB  TRBASUEY  OF  HISTORY. 


205 


re- 


Blleffiance  shoui  1  endure  so  \onj  as  the  king  should  support  the  discipline 
of  trie  church  and  defend  the  ecclesiastical  liberties.     To  how  much  dis- 

f)Ute,  quibble,  and  assumption  were  not  those  undefined  terms  capable  of 
eading  under  the  management  of  the  possessors  of  nearly  all  the  learning 
of  the  age;  men,  too,  especially  adaicted  to  and  skilled  in  that  subtle 
warfare  which  renders  the  crafty  and  well-schooled  logomachist  abso- 
lutely invulnerable  by  any  other  weapon  than  a  precise  definition  uf  termsl 

To  the  reservations  of  the  earl  of  Gloucester  and  the  clergy  succeeded 
the  still  more  ominous  demands  of  the  barons.  In  the  anxiety  of  Stephen 
to  procure  their  submission  and  sanction  to  his  usurpation  the  barons  saw 
an  admirable  opportunity  for  aggrandizing  their  already  great  power 
at  the  expense  of  the  security  of  both  the  people  and  the  cruwn.  They 
demanded  that  each  baron  should  have  the  right  to  fortify  his  castle  and 
put  himself  in  a  state  of  defence ;  in  other  words,  that  each  bnron  should 
turn  his  possessions  into  an  imperium  in  imperio,  dangerous  to  the  author- 
ity of  the  crown  on  occasions  of  especial  dispute,  and  injurious  to  the 
peace  and  welfare  upon  all  occasions,  as  making  the  chances  of  wrong 
and  oppressions  more  numerous,  and  making  redress,  already  diflficult,  for 
the  future  wholly  hopeless.  A  legitimate  king,  confident  in  his  right  and 
conscientiously  mindful  of  his  high  trust,  would  have  periled  both  crown 
and  life  ere  he  would  have  consented  to  such  terms ;  but  in  the  case  of 
Stephen,  the  high  heart  of  the  valiant  soldier  was  quelled  and  spell-bound 
by  the  conscience  of  the  usurper,  and  to  uphold  his  tottering  throne  in 
present  circumstances  of  difficulty,  he  was  fain  to  consent  to  terms  which 
would  both  inevitably  and  speedily  increase  those  difHculties  tenfold. 

The  barons  were  not  slow  to  avail  themselves  of  the  consent  thus  ex- 
torted from  the  king.  In  every  direction  castles  sprang  up,  or  were 
newly  and  more  strongly  fortified.  Even  those  barons  who  had  at  the 
outset  no  care  for  any  such  privilege,  were  soon  in  their  self-defence 
obliged  to  follow  the  example  of  their  neighbours.  Jealous  of  each 
other,  the  barons  now  carried  their  feuds  to  the  extent  of  absolute  petty 
wars ;  and  the  inferior  gentry  and  peasantry  could  only  hope  to  escape 
from  being  plundered  and  ill  used  by  one  party,  at  the  expense  of  siding 
with  the  other,  in  quarrels  for  neither  side  of  which  they  had  the  slight- 
est real  care. 

The  barons  having  thus  far  proceeded  in  establishing  their  quasi  sove- 
reignty and  independence  of  the  crown,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that 
they  soon  proceeded  still  farther,  and  arrogated  to  themselves  within  their 
mimic  royalties  all  the  privileges  of  actual  sovereignty,  even  including 
that  of  coining  money. 

Though  Stephen,  as  a  matter  of  policy,  had  granted  the  privilege  of 
fortification,  out  of  which  he  must,  as  a  shrewd  and  sensible  man,  have 
anticipated  that  these  abuses  would  issue,  he  was  by  no  means  inclined 
to  submit  to  the  abuses  themselves  without  a  trial  how  far  it  was  prac- 
ticable to  take  back  by  his  present  force  what  had  been  extorted  from  his 
former  weakness.  And  thus,  as  the  nobles  abused  the  privileges  he  had 
granted,  he  now  by  his  mercenary  force  set  himself  not  merely  to  anni- 
hilate those  extorted  privileges,  but  also  to  make  very  serious  encroach- 
ments upon  the  more  ancient  and  legitimate  rights  of  the  subject.  The 
perpetual  contests  that  thus  existed  between  the  king  and  the  barons,  and 
among  the  barons  themselves,  and  the  perpetual  insult  and  despoiling  to 
which  the  great  body  of  the  people  were  in  consequence  subjected,  caused 
80  general  a  discontent,  that  the  earl  of  Gloucester,  deeming  that  the 
favourable  and  long-wished-for  time  had  at  length  arrived  for  the  open 
advocacy  of  the  claims  of  Matilda,  suddenly  departed  from  England.  As 
soon  as  he  arrived  safely  abroad,  he  forwarded  to  Stephen  a  solemn  de 
Aance  and  renunciation  of  fealty,  and  reproached  him  in  detail,  and  in  the 


MS 


TUB  TaSASUaY  OF  HISTOaY. 


ftron(|[Cflt  language,  with  his  breaches  of  the  promises  and  conditions 
upon  which  that  fealty  had  been  aworn. 

A.  D.  1138.— Just  as  Stephen  was  thus  doubly  perplexed,  a  new  enemy 
arose  to  threaten  him,  in  the  person  of  David,  king  of  Scotland,  wlio, 
being  uncle  to  Matilda,  now  crossed  the  borders  with  a  larse  urmy  to 
assert  and  defend  her  title.    So  little  was  Stephen  beloved  by  the  tur- 
bulent barons,  with  not  a  few  of  whom  he  was  even  then  at  personal 
feud,  that  had  David  now  added  a  wise  policy  to  his  sincere  zeal  in  the 
cause  of  his  niece,  there  seems  little  reason  to  doubt  that  Matilda  wuuld 
have  ousted  Stephen  almost  without  difficulty  or  bloodshed  ;  fur  he  had 
by  this  time  so  nearly  expended  his  once  large  treasure,  that  the  foreign 
mercenaries,  on  whom  he  chiefly  depended  for  defence,  actually,  for  the 
most  part,  subsisted  by  plunder.     But  David,  unable  or  unwilling  to  enter 
into  points  of  policy  and  expediency,  marked  his  path  from  the  border  to 
the  fertile  plains  of  Yorkshire  by  such  cruel  bloodshed  and  destruction, 
that  all  sympathy  with  his  intention  was  forgotten  in  disgust  and  indigna- 
tion at  his  conduct.     The  northern  nobles,  whom  he  might  easily  have 
won  to  his  support,  were  thus  aroused  and  united  against  nim.    William 
Albemarle,  Robert  de  Ferres,  William  Percy,  Robert  de  Bruce,  Rogei 
de  Mowjray,  Ubert  Lacy,  Walter  PEpee,  and  numerous  other  nobles 
in  the  north  of  England,  joined  their  large  forces  into  one  great  army 
and  encountered  the  Scotd  at  Northallerton.    A  battle,  called  the  buttle 
of  the  Standard,  from  an  immense  crucifix  which  was  carried  on  a 
car  in  front  of  the  English  army,  was  fought  on  the  23d  of  Auofust, 
1138,  and  ended  in  so  total  a  defeat  of  the  Scottish  army  that  David  him- 
self, together  with  his  son  Henry,  very  nearly  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
English.    The  defeat  of  the  king  of  Scotland  greatly  tended  to  daunt 
the  enemies  of  Stephen,  and  to  give  a  hope  of  stability  to  his  rule ;  but 
he  had  scarcely  escaped  the  ruin  that  this  one  enemy  intended  for  him, 
when  he  was  engaged  in  a  bitter  controversy  with  an  enemy  still  more 
zealous  and  more  powerful — the  clergy. 

A.  n.  1139.— The  bishops,  as  they  had  been  rated  for  military  service  in 
common  with  the  barons,  so  they  added  all  the  state  and  privileges  of 
lay  barons  to  those  proper  to  their  own  character  and  rank.  And  when 
the  custom  of  erecting  fortresses  and  keeping  strong  garrisons  in  pay 
became  general  among  the  lay  barons,  several  of  the  bishops  followed 
their  example.  The  bishops  of  Salisbury  and  Lincoln  had  done  so ;  the 
former  had  completed  one  at  Sherborne  and  another  at  Devizes,  and  had 
even  cq/nmenced  a  third  at  Malmesbury ;  and  the  latter,  who  was  his 
nephew,  had  erected  an  exceedingly  strong  and  stately  one  at  Newark. 
Unwisely  deeming  it  safer  to  begm  by  attacking  the  fortresses  of  the 
clergy  than  those  of  the  lay  barons,  Stephen,  availing  himself  of  some 
disturbances  at  court  between  the  armed  followers  of  the  bishop  of  Sal- 
isbury and  those  of  the  earl  of  Brittany,  threw  both  the  bishop  of  Salis- 
bury and  his  nephew  of  Lincoln  into  prison,  and  compelled  them,  by 
threats  of  still  worse  treatment,  to  surrender  their  fortresses  into  his 
hands.  This  act  of  power  called  up  an  opponent  to  Stephen,  in  a  person 
from  whom,  of  the  whole  of  the  clergy,  he  had  the  least  reason  to  fear 
any  opposition. 

The  king's  brother,  Henry,  bishop  of  Winchester,  to  whom  he  owed 
so  much  in  accomplishing  his  usurpation  of  the  crown,  was. at  this  time 
armed  with  the  legantine  commission  in  England ;  and  deeming  his  duty 
to  the  church  paramount  to  the  ties  of  blood,  he  assembled  a  synod  at 
Westminster,  which  he  opened  with  a  formal  complaint  of  what  he  termed 
the  impiety  of  the  king.  The  synod  was  well  inclined  to  acquiesce  in 
Henry  s  view  of  the  case,  and  a  formal  summons  was  sent  to  the  king  to 
account  to  the  synod  for  the  conduct  of  which  it  complained.  With  a 
strange  neglect  of  what  would  have  been  his  true  policy — a  peremptory 


THB  TRBA8URY  OF  HMTORT. 


907 


denial  of  the  right  of  the  avnod  to  «it  in  Judgment  upon  the  tovereign  on 
A  question  which  really  remted,  Hnd  related  only,  to  the  police  of  his 
kingdom — Stephen  virtually  put  the  Judgment  or  his  cuhc  into  the  hands 
or  a  court,  that,  by  the  very  charge  made  Hguinst  him  by  its  head,  avowed 
itself  inimical,  partial,  and  prcjudi<-ed,  by  Hcnditig  Aubrey  de  Vere  to 
plead  Ills  cause.  De  Vere  set  out  by  charging  the  two  binhops  with  se- 
ditious conduct  and  treasonable  designs  ;  but  the  synod  refused  to  enter- 
tain that  charge  until  the  fortresses,  of  which,  be  it  observed,  the  bishops 
had  been  deprived  upon  that  charge,  should  be  restored  by  the  kinj. 

The  clergy  did  not  fail  to  make  this  quarrel  the  occasion  of  exasper- 
ating the  mnids  of  the  always  credulous  multitude  against  the  king.  So 
general  was  the  discontent,  that  the  earl  of  Gloucester,  constantly  on  the 
watch  fur  an  opportunity  of  advocating  the  cause  of  Matilda,  brought 
that  princess  to  England,  with  a  retinue  of  a  hundred  and  forty  knights 
and  their  followers.  She  fixed  her  residence  first  at  Hristol,  but  thence 
removed  to  Gloucester,  where  she  was  Joined  by  several  of  the  most 
powerful  barons,  who  openly  declared  in  her  favour,  and  exerted  every 
energy  to  increase  her  already  considerable  force.  A  civil  war  speedily 
raged  in  every  part  of  the  kingdom ;  both  parties  were  guilty  of  the 
most  atro  ious  excesses,  and,  as  is  usual,  or  rather  universal,  in  such 
cases,  whichever  party  was  temporarily  triumphant,  the  unhappy  peas- 
antry were  massacred  and  plundered,  to  the  sound  of  watchwords  which 
they  scarcely  comprehendeu. 

A.  D.  1140. — While  the  kingdom  was  thus  torn,  and  the  people  thus  tor- 
mented, the  varying  success  of  the  equally  selfish  opposing  parties  led 
to  frequent  discussions,  which  led  to  no  agreement,  and  frequent  treaties, 
made  only  to  be  broken. 

An  action  at  length  took  place  which  promised  to  be  decisive  and  to 
restore  the  kingdom  to  peace.  The  castle  of  Lincoln  was  captured  and 
garrisoned  by  the  partizans  of  Matilda,  under  Ralph,  earl  of  Chester,  and 
William  de  Koumard.  The  citizens  of  Lincoln,  however,  remained  faith- 
ful to  the  cause  of  Stephen,  who  immediately  proceeded  to  lay  siege  to 
the  castle.  The  earl  of  Gloucester  hastened  to  the  support  of  the  be- 
leaguered garrison,  and  on  the  2d  of  February,  1141,  an  action  took 
place,  in  which  Stephen  was  defeated,  and  taken  prisoner  while  fighting 
desperately  at  the  head  of  his  troops.  He  was  taken  in  triumph  to 
Gloucester,  and  though  he  was  at  first  treated  with  great  external  respect, 
some  real  or  pretended  suspicions  of  his  friends  having  formed  a  plan  for 
his  rescue  caused  him  to  be  loaded  with  irons  and  thrown  into  prison. 

The  capture  of  Stephen  caused  a  great  accession  of  men  ot  all  ranks 
to  the  party  of  Matilda ;  and  she,  under  the  politic  guidance  of  the  earl 
of  Gloucester,  now  exerted  herself  to  gain  the  good-will  of  the  clergy, 
without  which,  in  the  then  state  of  the  public  mind,  there  could  be  but 
little  prospect  of  permanent  prosperity  to  her  cause,  just  as  it  doubtless 
was. 

She  invited  Henry,  bishop  of  Winchester  and  papal  legate,  to  a  con- 
ference, at  which  she  promised  everything  that  either  his  individual  am- 
bition or  his  zeal  for  the  church  could  lead  him  to  desire ;  and  as  all  the 
principal  men  of  her  party  had  offered  to  become  responsible  for  her  due 
fulfilment  of  her  promises,  which  she  made  with  the  accompanying  sol- 
emnity of  an  oath,  Heniy  conducted  her  with  great  pomp  and  form  to 
Winchester  cathedral,  and  there  at  the  high  altar  solemnly  denounced 
curses  upon  all  who  should  curse  her,  and  invoked  blessings  upon  all  who 
should  bless  her.  To  give  still  greater  triumph  aud  security  to  her  cause, 
Theobald,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  also  swore  allegiance  to  her. 

Subsequently  the  crown  was  formally  adjudged  to  Matilda,  in  a  speech 
made  by  Henry  to  the  assembled  clergy  and  a  few  of  the  chief  men  of 
London ;  and  Henry,  with  an  assurance  perfectly  marvellous  after  having 


SM 


THB  TRBABUHY  OF  HWTORY. 


been  so  powerful  an  liiatrutncnt  of  hin  hrothprV  imtirpatioii,  now  ipake  of 
him  as  huving  nutrcly  fWU'd  Iho  throui!  ni  tlio  iibMeiicn  of  the  riirhtful 
uwnor,  aiwl  dwell  with  irrnat  furor  and  biltoiiiexfl  upon  the  breach  bv  Ste- 
phen of  the  pruinisea  ho  hud  made)  of  rt'spec-t  and  proUiclion  to  tho  church. 

Matilda  to  a  niaaculinn  dariii((  added  a  very  harnh  and  imperiuun  Hpirit, 
and  ihe  hud  Bcanudy  placed  her  eaune  in  apparently  permanent  proaper- 
ity  when  nhe  moHt  unwisely  disgusted  some  uf  tlioae  whoae  favour  was 
the  most  important  to  her. 

The  Londoners,  though  circumstances  had  compelled  thrm  to  subuiil  to 
Matilda,  were  slill  very  partial  to  Stephen.  They  joined  ii's  wife  in  pe- 
titioning that  ho  might'be  released  on  condition  of  retiring  to  a  convent 
A  stern  and  laconic  refusal  was  Matilda's  answer  both  to  this  petition  and 
a  subHcqucnt  o\w  presented  by  them  for  the  estiiblishmeut  of  King  Ed* 
ward's  laws  instead  of  those  of  Henry.  An  equally  harsh,  and  still  more 
impolitic  refusal  was  given  tj  tho  U\gato  who  requested  that  his  nephew 
Kustace,  should  inherit  Boulogne  aiid  tho  other  patrimonial  possessions 
of  Stephen ;  a  refusal  which  givos  one  as  low  an  opinion  of  Matilda's 
sense  of  justice  as  of  her  temper  and  policy. 

Her  mistaken  conduct  was  not  long  in  producing  its  appropriate  ill 
effects  to  her  cause.  The  legate,  whose  very  contradictory  (Conduct  .»l 
different  times  can  only  be  satisfactorily  explained  upon  the  sunpofll'ion 
that  to  his  thoroughly  selfish  ambition  that  cause  ever  seem^u  thi;  '.yv.^t 
which  promised  the  greatest  immediate  advantages  to  himseh  or  'u  the 
church,  marked  the  mischief  which  Matilda's  harshness  did  to  li^r  Liuse, 
and  prom|)tly  availed  himself  of  it  to  excite  the  London rrs  to  revolt 
against  her  government.  An  attempt  was  inadc  to  seize  upon  her  person, 
and  so  violent  was  the  rage  that  was  niaiiifesled  by  her  enemies,  that  even 
her  masculine  and  scornful  spirit  took  alarm,  and  she  fled  to  Oxford. 
Not  conceiving  herself  safe  even  there,  and  being  unaware  of  the  under- 
hriiii)  conduct  of  the  crafty  legate,  siie  next  flew  for  safety  to  him  at  Win- 
chester, lint  he,  deeming  her  cause  now  so  far  htst  as  to  warrant  liim  in 
openly  declaring  his  real  feelings  towards  her,  joined  his  forces  to  the 
Londoners  and  other  frieiid.s  of  Stephen,  and  besieged  her  in  the  castle  of 
that  city.  Here,  though  stoutly  supported  by  her  friends  and  followers, 
she  was  unable  long  to  remain,  from  lack  of  provisions.  Accompanied 
by  the  earl  of  Gloucester  iiid  a  handful  of  friends,  she  made  her  escape, 
but  her  party  was  pursued,  and  tho  earl  of  Gloucester,  in  the  skirmish, 
was  taken  prisoner.  This  capture  Wd  to  the  release  of  Stephen,  for 
whom  Matilda  was  {riad  to  exchange  the  carl,  whose  courage  and  juilg- 
nient  were  the  chi(!f  support  of  her  hopes  and  the  main  bond  of  her  party ; 
and  with  the  release  of  Stephen  came  a  renewal  of  the  civil  war,  in  all 
its  violence  and  mischief,  (a.  d.  1143).  Sieges,  battles,  skirmishes,  and 
their  ghastly  and  revolting  accompaniments,  followed  with  varying  suc- 
cess; but  the  balance  of  fortune  at  length  inclined  so  decidedly  to  the 
side  of  Stephen,  that  Matilda,  broken  in  health  by  such  long-continued 
exertion,  both  bodily  and  mental,  at  length  departed  from  the  kingdom 
and  took  refuge  in  Normandy. 

A.n.  1147. — The  retirement  of  Matilda  and  the  death  of  the  earl  of  Glou 
cesler,  which  occurred  about  the  same  time,  seined  to  give  to  Stephen 
all  the  opportunity  he  could  desire  firmly  to  Co.  ,:-;i...  niuself  in  the  pos- 
session of  the  kingdom.  Thit  he  kindled  animosity:'  ;!■"■'!  'his  nob)  y 
demanding  the  surrender  of  their  fortresses, '  "  •:  '•"  j'  ly  deemed  dan- 
gerous to  both  himself  and  his  subjects ;  and  iic  oiiended  the  pope  by  re- 
fusing to  allow  the  atten.lance  of  five  bishops,  who  had  been  selected  by 
the  pontifif  to  attend  a  council  at  Kheims,  the  usual  practice  being  for  the 
English  church  to  elect  its  own  deputies.  In  revenge  for  this  afi'ront,  as 
he  deemed  it,  the  pope  laid  all  Stephen's  party  under  his  interdict ;  a  meas- 
ure which  he  well  knew  could  not  fail  to  tell  with  fearful  effect  against 


THE  YRBA8URY  OF  HI6TORY. 


901» 


lli«  iiitereals  of  a  prince  who  was  ivutod  nut  only  upon  a  uiurpcil,  but  aUo 
a  diipuied  ihron''. 

A.D.  115.1 —i>rltiee  Henry,  ion  of  MHtiloa,  who  had  aJroAdy  ((iviMi  signal 
proofH  of  Uk'nt  im  i  bravery,  was  now  oncuiir.it(('d  liy  lh«i  divnliMl  >..uf  ut 
tho  ptiltli)'  niiikd  to  iiivad''  Kiii^lKiid.  Hi-  di'Toutud  Slcphen  ul  M.ilmrslniry 
and  thi-y  ag.u\i  iii'  t  beToru  VV  .illin^ford,  wIumi  u  m-Kotiutioii  wum  enicrv^ 
into,  by  whu'h  H<  ir>  ceded  his  cuiiii  tliirinn  the  lil'e  of  SicplM-n  on  c«*«. 
dition  of  bt  ioK  s(>cur<;d  of  lli''  sncccssion,  DouIokiio  iind  llu;  (»lhcr  imtrvNHK 
nial  po8M«!8»'ionH  >f  Stf'phrii  Ut.nji  ri^uully  securt-d  to  liiti  hou  Williiiin — li:« 
eldobt  son  Kustacu  bving  dead.  This  trv'tly  having  been  ext'ciUvd  in  due 
form,  I'riiico  llonry  itturoed  lo  Norinamly  ;  wIk  m-c  he  was  recalled  by 
the  death  of  Slepheii  on  tli  -  25lh  of  Uclober,  1154. 


idg- 

irty; 

all 

and 

Isuc- 

the 

jiued 

Idem 

llou 
l)hen 

JOS- 


lan- 
re- 

I  the 

as 

3aB- 

linst 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

me  REION  or  HENRY  II. — PRCCEDGD  BY  OBSKRVATtONS  ON  THE  RIOHT  Of  THK 
ENGLISH  TO  TERRITORY  IN  rilANCR 

Methodical  reading:,  always  d«siral)lo,  is  espcciully  >.o  in  roading  History; 
and  before  wc  comniuncc  the  imrralivt;  of  tliu  eventful  aiid,  in  many  re- 
spects, important  reign  of  Henry  II.,  wc  deem  that  we  8h:il[  be  doinj;  the 
reader  good  service  in  directing  his  attention  to  the  origin  of  th^  earlier 
wars  between  England  and  France;  a  point  upon  whioli  nil  our  liiMtorians 
have  rather  too  confidently  assumed  the  intuitive  km  wlcd^ie  of  tlieir  read- 
firs,  whom  they  have  thus  left  to  read  of  results  w'thcut  lu-cpainiance  with 
processes,  and  to  indulge  their  imaginations  in  tlut  dei  ds  ol  warlike  enter- 
prises without  any  data  upon  which  to  judge  of  the  justice  or  injustice 
with  which  those  enterprises  were  undertaken. 

Even  with  the  invasion  of  William  the  Conqueror,  Ki  inland,  by  its  new 
sovereign,  became  interested  in  no  small  or  insignificant ,  uri  ion  of  France. 
Up  to  that  period  England's  connexion  with  foreigners  ;u-oHe  only  from 
the  invasions  of  the  Northmen,  but  with  William's  invus  on  (|iiitu  a  new 
relation  sprang  up  between  England  and  the  continent.  Fr<  in  this  moment 
the  connections  of  Normandy,  and  its  feuds,  wiu'thur  with  imi;  rrcneh  king 
or  with  any  of  his  powerful  vassals,  entered  largely  into  II  >•■  concerns  of 
England.  With  lienry  II.,  this  connection  of  England  wiih  tlic  afTairs  of 
the  continent  was  vastly  increased.  In  right  of  his  father  lial  iniMiarch 
possessed  Touraine  and  Anjou;  in  right  of  his  mother  ho  pos-essed  Maine 
and  Normandy  ;  and  in  riglit  of  his  wife,  Guienne,  Poictm  .  Xainlogne, 
Anvergne,  Perigord,  Angournois,  and  the  Limousin;  and  lie  suli.sequently 
became  really,  as  he  was  already  nominally,  possessed  of  tiie  sovereignty 
of  Brittany.  If  the  reader  now  east  his  eyes  over  the  map  <  •(  tiiat  vast 
and  populous  territory  which  is  called  France,  he  will  perceive  Jiat  Henry 
thus  possessed  a  third  of  it,  and  the  third  of  greatest  fertility  nd  value. 
Left  unexplained  as  this  usually  is  by  our  historians,  the  iinpi'e>-ion  upon 
the  minds  of  even  readers  not  wholly  deserving  of  the  ceiiiiiire  i  uplied  in 
th-r-  term  superficial,  must  almost  necessarily  be,  that  the  wars  if  which 
b;y-and-by  we  shall  have  to  speak  between  France  and  England,  >riginat- 
e<l  in  the  mere  greediness  and  ambition  of  kings  of  the  latter  couiu '  y,  who, 
dissatisfied  with  their  insular  possessioiii>,  desired  to  usurp  ten  itory  in 
France;  whereas  the  direct  contrary  is  the  case,  and  they  in  these  wars 
maile  use  of  theit  English  conquests  to  retain  possession  of,  or  to  extend 
by  way  of  reprisal  their  earlier-conquered  or  fairly-inherited  French  ter- 
ritory. The  kings  of  France,  in  point  of  fact,  at  this  early  period  of  French 
history,  were  not  kings  of  France  in  the  present  acceptation  of  that  title. 
They  had  a  nominal  rather  than  a  real  feudal  superiority  over  ihe  whole 
countrv ;  there  were  six  great  eclesiastical  peerages,  besides  the  six  lay 
1—14 


aio 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


peerages  of  Burgundy,  Normandy,  Guienne,  Flanders,  Toulouse,  and 
ChanipagiiP.  Each  of  these  peerages,  though  nominally  aubjecl  to  the 
French  crown,  was,  in  reality,  an  independent  sovereignty.  If  it  chanced 
that  the  warlike  designs  of  the  king  coincided  with  the  views  and  int*  ogt 
of  his  great  vassals,  hft  could  lead  an  immense  and  splendid  force  into  the 
field ;  but  if,  as  far  more  frequently  happened,  any  or  all  of  his  great  vas- 
sals chanced  to  be  opposed  to  him,  it  at  once  became  evident  that  he  was 
only  nominally  their  master.  That  in  becoming  masters  of  our  insular 
land,  the  Norman  race  should  sooner  or  later  see  their  French  territory 
merging  itself  into  that  of  the  French  king  and  adding  to  his  power  was 
inevitable,  as  we  can  now  perceive;  but  in  the  time  of  our  second  Henry, 
the  king  of  France  feared— and  the  aspect  of  things  then  warranted  his 
fear — the  precisely  opposite  process.  By  bearing  this  brief  explanation 
carefully  in  mind,  the  reader  will  find  himself  greatly  assisted  in  under 
standing  the  feelings  and  views  of  the  sovereigns  of  England  and  France, 
in  those  wars  which  cost  each  country  rivers  of  its  best  blood. 

Previous  to  the  death  of  Stephen  Henry  married  Eleanor,  the  divorced 
wife  of  Louis  VH.  of  France.  She  had  accompanied  that  monarch  to  the 
Holy  Land,  and  her  conduct  there  partook  so  much  of  the  levity  and  im- 
morality which  marked  that  of  too  many  of  her  sex  in  the  same  scene, 
that  Louis  felt  bound  in  honour  to  divorce  her,  and  he  at  the  same  time 
restored  to  her  those  rich  provinces  to  which  we  have  already  alluded  as 
her  dower.  Undeterred  by  her  reported  immorality,  Henry,  after  six 
weeks'  courtship,  made  her  his  wife,  in  defiance  of  the  disparity  in  their 
years ;  having  an  eye,  probably,  to  the  advantage  which  her  wealth  could 
not  fail  to  give  him,  should  he  have  to  make  a  struggle  to  obtain  the  En- 
glish crown. 

A.D.  1155. — So  secure,  however,  was  Henry  in  the  succession  to  Eng- 
land at  Stephen's,  death  that  not  the  slightest  attempt  was  made  to  set  up  any 
counter-claims  on  the  part  of  Stephen's  surviving  son,  William  ;  and  Henry 
himself,  being  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  state  of  the  public  mind,  did 
not  even  hasten  to  England  immediately  on  receiving  news  of  Stephen's 
death,  but  deferred  doing  so  until  he  had  completed  the  suWection  of  a 
castle  that  he  was  besieging  on  the  frontier  of  Normandy.  This  done,  he 
proceeded  to  England,  and  he  was  received  with  the  greatest  cordiality  by 
all  ranks  and  conditions  of  men.  The  popularity  that  he  already  enjoyed 
was  greatly  increased  by  the  first  act  of  his  reign,  which  was  the  equally 
wise  and  just  dismissal  of  the  hordes  of  foreign  mercenaries  whom  Ste- 
phen had  introduced  into  England,  and  who,  however  serviceable  to  the 
usurper  in  question,  had  been  both  in  peace  and  in  war  a  burden  and  a 
curse  to  the  English  people.  Sensible  that  his  popularity  was  such  as  to 
enable  him  to  dispense  with  these  fierce  praetorians,  who,  while  mischiev- 
ous and  offensive  to  the  subject  under  all  circumstances,  might  by  pecu- 
liar circumstances  be  rendered  mischievous  and  even  fatal  to  the  sover- 
eign, he  sent  them  all  out  of  the  country,  and  with  them  he  sent  William 
of  Ypres,  their  commander,  who  was  extremely  unpopular  from  having 
been  the  friend  and  adviser  of  Stephen,  many  of  whose  worst  measures, 
perhaps  untruly,  for  Stephen  was  not  of  a  temper  requiring  to  be  prompt- 
ed to  arbitrary  courses,  were  attributed  to  his  councils. 

In  the  necessities  caused  by  civil  war,  both  Stephen  and  Matilda  had 
made  many  large  grants  which — however  politic  or  even  inevitable  at  the 
time— were  extremely  injurious  to  the  interests  of  the  crown ;  and  Henry's 
great  object  was  to  resume  these  grants,  not  even  excepting  those  of  Ma- 
jlda  herself. 

His  next  measure  was  as  dangerous  as  it  was  necessary.  The  country 
was  in  a  perfectly  dreadful  state  of  demoralization;  the  highways  and 
by-ways  alike  were  infested  by  troops  of  daring  and  violent  robbers,  and 
<hese  obtained  encouragement  and  opportunity  from  the  wars  carried  on 


TU£  TRKASIJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


911 


iy  pecu- 
sovei- 

William 
having 
asures, 
rompt- 

llda  had 
le  at  the 
lenry's 
of  Ma- 

jountry 
lys  and 

its,  and 
trieJ  on 


by  the  nobles  against  each  other.  The  troop  ot  soldiers  following  the 
baron's  pennuii,  or  keeping  watch  and  ward  upon  the  battlements  of  his 
strong  castle,  became,  whenever  his  need  for  their  services  ceased,  the 
banditti  of  the  roads  and  forests.  In  such  a  state  of  things  it  would  have 
been  hopeless  to  have  attempted  to  reduce  the  country  warder,  without 
first  dismantling  those  fortresses  to  which  the  disorder  was  mainly  owing. 
A  weak  or  unpopular  sovereign  would  most  probably  have  been  ruined  had 
he  made  any  attempt  upon  this  valued  and  most  mischievous  privilege  of 
the  nobles  ;  and  even  Henry,  young,  firm,  and  popular,  did  it  at  no  incon- 
siderable risk.  The  earl  of  Albemarle  and  one  or  two  other  proud  and  pow- 
erful nobles  prepared  to  resist  the  king ;  but  his  force  was  so  compact, 
and  his  object  was  so  popular  with  the  great  body  of  the  people,  that  the 
factious  nobles  submitted  at  the  approach  of  their  sovereign. 

A.o.  1156. — Having  by  an  admirable  mixture  of  prudciico  and  firmness 
reduced  all  parts  of  Kiigland  to  complete  peace  and  security,  Henry  went 
to  France  to  oppose  in  person  the  attempts  his  brother  Geoffrey  was  mak- 
ing upon  the  valuable  provinces  of  Maine  and  Anjou,  of  some  portions  of 
which  that  prince  had  already  possessed  himself.  The  mere  appearance 
of  Henry  had  the  effect  of  causing  the  instant  submission  of  the  disaffected 
and  Geoff'rey  consented  to  resign  his  claim  in  consideration  of  a  yearly 
pension  of  a  thousand  pounds. 

A.  u.  1157. — Just  as  Henry  had  completed  his  prudent  regulations  for 
preventing  future  disturbances  in  his  French  possessions,  he  was  called 
over  to  England  by  the  turbulent  conduct  of  the  Welsh,  who  had  ventured 
to  make  incursions  upon  his  territory.  They  were  beaten  back  before 
his  arrival ;  but  he  was  resolved  to  chastise  them  still  farther,  and  for  that 
purpose  he  followed  them  into  their  mountain  fastnesses.  The  difficult 
nature  of  the  country  was  so  unfavourable  to  his  operations,  that  he  was 
more  than  once  in  great  danger.  On  one  occasion  his  vanguard  was  so 
beset  in  a  rocky  pass,  that  its  discipline  and  valour  could  not  prevent  it 
from  being  put  to  complete  rout ;  Henry  de  Essex,  who  held  the  high 
office  of  hereditary  standard  bearer,  actually  threw  down  his  standard  and 
joined  the  flying  soldiery,  whose  panic  he  increased  by  loudly  exclaiming 
that  the  king  was  killed.  The  king,  who  fortunately  was  on  the  spot,  gal- 
loped from  post  to  post,  re-assured  his  main  body,  and  led  it  on  so  gal- 
lantly, that  he  saved  it  from  the  ruin  with  which  it  was  for  a  time  threat- 
ened by  this  foolish  and  disgraceful  panic. 

Henry  de  Essex,  whose  behaviour  had  been  so  remarkably  unknightly 
on  this  occasion,  was  on  its  account  charged  with  felony  by  Robert  de 
Montford,  and  lists  were  appointed  for  the  trial  by  battle.  De  Essex  was 
vanquished,  and  condemned  to  pass  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  a  convent 
and  to  forfeit  all  his  property. 

A.  D.  1158. — The  war  with  the  Welsh  ended  in  the  submission  of  that 
people,  and  Henry's  attention  was  agHin  called  to  the  continent.  When 
his  brother  Geoffrey  gave  up  his  pretensions  to  Anjou  and  Maine  that 
prince  took  possession  of  the  county  of  Nantes,  with  the  consent  of  its 
inhabitants,  who  had  chased  away  their  legitimate  prince.  Geoff'rey  died 
soon  after  lie  had  assumed  his  new  dignity ;  and  Henry  now  claimed  to 
succeed  as  heir  to  the  command  and  possessions  which  Geoff'rey  had  him- 
self owed  only  to  the  voluntary  submission  of  the  people.  His  claim  was 
disputed  by  Conan,  earl  of  Brittany,  who  asserted  that  Nantes  properly 
belonged  to  his  dominions,  whence  it  had,  as  he  alledged,  only  been  sepa- 
rated by  rebellion,  and  he  accordingly  took  possession  of  it.  Henry 
secured  himself  against  any  interference  on  the  part  of  Louis  of  France 
by  betrothing  his  son  and  heir,  Henry,  then  only  five  years  old,  to  Louis's 
daiis;hter  Margaret,  who  was  nearly  four  years  younger.    Having  by  this 

Eolitif  stroke  rendered  it  hopeless  for  Conan  to  seek  any  aid  from  Louis, 
lenry  now  marched  into  Brittany,  and  Conan,  seeing  the  impossibility  of 


212 


THK  TEBA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


Buccessrul  resistance,  at  once  agreed  to  give  up  Nantes.  Soon  after,  Co- 
nan,  anxious  to  secure  the  powerful  support  of  Henry,  gave  his  only 
daughter  and  heiress  to  that  prince's  son  (JeoflTrey.  Conan  died  in  a  few 
yearn  after  this  betrothal,  and  Henry  immediately  took  possession  of  Brit- 
tany in  right  of  his  son  and  daughter-in-law. 

A.  D.  1159.— Henry,  through  his  wife,  had  a  claim  upon  the  country  o( 
Toulouse,  and  he  now  urged  that  claim  against  Raymond,  the  reigning 
count,  who  solicited  the  protection  of  the  king  of  France ;  and  the  lntter, 
both  as  Raymond's  feudal  superior,  and  as  the  prince  more  than  all  othei 
princes  interested  in  putting  a  check  on  the  vast  aggrandizement  of  Henry 
immediately  granted  Raymond  his  protection,  in  spite  of  the  startling  fact 
that  Louis  himself  had  formerly,  while  Eleanor  was  his  wife,  claimed 
Toulouse  in  her  right,  as  Henry  now  did.  So  little,  alas !  are  the  plainest 
principles  of  honesty  and  consistency  regarded  in  the  strife  of  politics. 

Henry  advanced  upon  Toulouse  with  a  very  considerable  arniy,  chiefly 
of  mercenaries.  Assisted  by  Trincaral,  count  of  Nismes,  and  Berenger, 
count  of  Barcelona,  he  was  at  the  outset  very  successful,  taking  Verdun 
and  several  other  places  of  lesser  note.  He  then  laid  siege  to  the  capital 
of  the  county,  and  Louis  threw  himself  into  it  with  a  reinforcement. 
Henry  was  now  strongly  urged  by  his  friends  to  take  the  place  by  assault, 
as  he  probably  might  have  done,  and  by  thus  making  the  French  king 
prisoner,  obtain  whatever  terms  he  pleased  from  that  prince.  But  Henry's 
prudence  never  forsook  him,  even  amid  the  excitement  of  war  and  ihfc 
flush  of  success.  Louis  was  his  feudal  lord ;  to  make  him  prisoner  would 
be  to  hold  out  encouragement  to  his  own  great  and  turbulent  vassals  to 
break  through  their  feudal  bonds,  and  instead  of  prosecuting  the  siege 
more  vigorously,  in  order  to  make  Louis  prisoner,  Henry  immediately 
raised  it,  saying  that  he  coultl  not  think  of  flghting  against  a  place  that 
was  defended  by  his  superior  lord  in  person,  and  departed  to  defend  Nor* 
mandy  against  the  count  de  Dreux,  brother  of  Louis. 

The  chivalrous  delicacy  which  had  led  Henry  to  depart  from  before 
Toulouse  did  not  immediately  terminate  the  war  between  him  Louis ;  but 
the  operations  were  feebly  conducted  on  both  sides,  and  ended  flrst  in  a 
cessation  of  arms,  and  then  in  a  formal  peace. 

A  new  cause  of  bitter  feeling  now  sprung  up  between  them.  When 
Prince  Henry,  the  king's  eldest  son,  was  aflianced  to  Margaret  of  France, 
it  was  stipulated  that  part  oi  the  princess's  dowry  should  be  the  important 
fortress  of  Gisors,  which  was  to  be  delivered  into  the  hands  of  the  king  on 
the  celebration  of  the  marriage,  and  in  the  meantime  to  remain  in  the  cus- 
tody of  the  knights  templars.  Henry,  as  was  suspected,  bribed  the  grand 
master  of  the  templars  to  deliver  the  fortress  to  him,  furnishing  him  with 
a  pretext  for  so  doing  by  ordering  the  immediate  celebration  of  the  mar- 
riage, though  the  aflianced  prince  and  princess  were  mere  children.  Louis 
was  naturally  much  offended  at  this  sharp  practice  on  the  part  of  Henry, 
and  was  on  the  point  of  recommencing  war  again,  when  Pope  Alexander 
HL,  whom  the  triumph  of  the  anti-pope,  Victor  IV.,  compelled  to  reside 
in  France,  successfully  interposed  his  mediation. 

A.  D.  1162. — Friendship  being,  at  least  nominally  and  externally,  estab- 
lished between  Louis  and  Henry,  the  latter  monarch  returned  to  Enghmd, 
and  devoted  his  attention  to  the  delicate  and  difllcuit  task  of  restraining 
the  authority  uf  the  clergy  within  reasonable  limits.  That  he  might  the 
more  safely  and  readily  do  this,  he  took  (he  opportunity  now.  afforded  him 
by  the  death  of  Theobald,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  to  place  that  dignity 
in  the  hands  of  a  man  whom  he  deemed  entirely  devoted  to  himself,  bui 
who,  in  the  result,  proved  the  greatest  enemy  to  the  authority  of  the 
crown,  and  the  stoutest  and  haughtiest  champion  of  the  church,  and  laugli 
Henry  the  danger  of  trusting  to  appearances,  by  imbittering  and  perplex* 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


213 


Whea 
'ranee, 
)ortant 
Ang  on 
\e  CU9- 
grand 
with 
ie  mar- 
Louis 
lenry, 
Ixander 
reside 

estab- 

kigliind, 

raining 

rht  the 

led  him 

Jignity 

blf,  bui 

(of  the 

1  tauy^l.t 

;rplex» 


\t\g  whole  years  of  his  life.    This  man,  in  whose  character  and  temper  the 
kini;  made  so  grievous  a  mistake,  whs  the  celebrated  Thomas  h  Beckut. 

Born  of  respectable  parentage  in  London,  and  having  a  good  education, 
he  WHS  fortunate  enough  to  attract  the  attention  and  obtain  the  favour  of 
archltishop  Theobald,  «viiu  bestowed  some  ollices  upon  him,  tlie  emolu- 
ments  of  wliich  enabled  him  to  go  to  Italy,  where  he  studied  the  civil  and 
canon  law  with  so  much  success  that  on  his  return  archbishop  Theobald 
gave  him  the  lucrative  and  important  appointment  of  archdeacon  of  Can- 
terbury, and  subsequently  entrusted  him  with  a  mission  to  Rome,  in 
which  he  acquitted  himself  with  his  usual  ability.  On  the  accession  of 
Henry,  the  archbishop  strongly  recommended  Becket  to  his  notice;  and 
Henry,  finding  him  remarkably  rich  in  the  lighter  itccomplishments  of  the 
courtier,  as  well  as  in  the  graver  qualities  of  the  statesman,  grtvc  him  the 
high  office  of  chancellor,  which  in  that  age  included,  besides  its  peculiar 
duties,  nearly  all  those  of  a  modern  prime  minister.  Kings  often  take  a 
deliglfi  in  overwhelming  with  wealth  and  honours  those  whom  they  have 
oaice  raised  above  the  struggling  herd.  It  was  so  even  with  the  prudent 
Henry,  who  proceeded  to  confer  up()n  his  favourite  chancellor  the  pro- 
vostsliip  of  Beverley,  the  deanery  of  Hastings,  and  the  constableship  of 
the  Tower;  made  liim  tutor  to  Prince  Henry,  and  gave  him  the  honours 
of  Kye  and  Berkham,  valuable  new  baronies  which  had  escheated  to  the 
crown.  Becket's  style  of  living  was  proportioned  to  the  vast  wealth  thus 
heaped  upon  him  ;  his  suniptuonsness  of  style  and  the  numerous  attend- 
ance paid  to  his  levees  exceeded  all  that  had  ever  been  seen  in  the  case 
of  a  mere  subject ;  the  proudest  nobles  were  his  guests,  and  gladly  placed 
their  sons  in  his  house  as  that  in  whicii  they  would  best  become  accom- 

[)lished  gentlemen;  he  had  a  great  number  of  knights  actually  retained  in 
lis  service,  and  he  attended  the  king  in  the  war  of  Toulouse  with  seven 
hundred  knights  at  his  own  charge  ;  on  another  occasion  he  maintained 
twelve  hundred  knights  and  twelve  hundred  of  their  followers  during  the 
forty  days  of  their  stipulated  service ;  and  when  sent  to  France  on  an 
embassy,  he  completely  astonished  that  court  by  his  magnificent  attend- 
ance. With  all  this  spleuilour  Becket  was  a  gay  companion.  Having 
taken  only  deacon's  oners,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  join  in  the  sports  of  lay- 
men, or  even  to  take  his  share  of  warlike  adventure.  He  wis  ctmse- 
quently  the  favourite  companion  of  the  king  in  his  leisure  hours.  It  is 
said  that  Henry,  riding  one  day  with  Becket,  and  meeting  a  poor  wretch 
whose  rags  shook  in  the  wind,  seized  the  chancellor's  scarlet  and  erinine- 
Uned  coal  and  gave  it  to  the  poor  man,  who,  it  may  well  be  supposed, 
was  mu(;h  surprised  at  such  a  gift. 

Living  thus  in  both  the  official  and  private  intimacy  of  the  king,  Becket 
was  well  acquainted  with  all  his  views  and  designs  towards  the  church ; 
and  as  he  had  always  professed  to  agree  with  them,  and  was  manifestly 
possessed  of  all  the  talents  and  resolution  which  would  make  him  valuable 
in  the  8trt:£»gle,  the  king  made  him  archbishop  at  the  death  of  his  old 
patron  Th«v»bald. 

Having  thus  obtained  the  second  place  in  the  kingdom,  Thomas  it  Becket 
at  once  cast  off  all  the  gay  habits  and  light  humour  which  he  had  made 
the  instruments  of  obtaining  and  fixing  the  personal  favour  of  the  king. 
Mis  first  step  on  being  consecrated  archbishop  of  Canterbury  was  to  re- 
sign his  chancellorship  into  the  hands  of  the  king,  on  the  significant  plea 
that  his  spiritual  function  would  henceforth  demand  all  his  energies  and 
attenli<Mi,  to  the  entire  exclusion  of  all  secular  affairs.  In  his  household 
and  equipages  he  retained  all  his  old  magnificence,  but  in  his  own  person 
he  now  assumed  a  rigid  austerity  befitting  an  anchorite.  He  wore  a  hair 
cloth  next  his  skin,  which  was  torn  and  raw  with  the  merciless  discipline 
that  lie  inflicted  upon  himself;  bread  was  almost  his  only  diet,  and  his 
only  beverage  was  water,  which  he  rendered  unpalatable  by  an  infusion  o 


214 


THE  TREA8UEY  Of  HlflTORT. 


disagreeable  herbs.    He  daily  had  thirteen  beggars  into  his  palace  and 
washed  their  feet ;  after  which  ceremony  they  were  supplied  with  refresh- 
ments, and  dismissed  with  a  pecuniary  present.     While  thus  exciting  th« 
wonder  and  admiration  of  the  laiiv,  he  was  no  less  assiduous  in  aiming 
at  the  favour  of  the  clergy,  to  whom  he  was  studiously  accessible  and 
affable,  and  whom  he  still  further  gratified  by  his  liberal  gifts  to  hospitals 
and  convents;  and  all  who  were  admitted  to  his  presence  were  at  once 
edified  and  surprised  by  the  grave  and  devotional  aspect  and  rigid  life  of 
one  who  had  but  recently  been  foremost  among  the  gayest  and  giddiest  of 
the  courtiers.     Far  less  penetration  than  was  possessed  by  Henry  might 
have  enabled  him  to  see  in  all  this  sudden  and  sanctimonious  austerity  a 
sure  indication  that  he  would  find  a  powerful  foe  in  Becket  whenever  he 
should  attempt  to  infringe  upon  the  real  or  assumed  rights  of  the  church. 
But,  in  truth,  Becket  was  too  eager  to  show  his  ecclesiastical  zeal,  even 
to  wail  until  the  measures  of  the  king  should  afford  him  opportunity,  and 
himself  commenced  the  strife  between  the  mitre  and  the  crown  by  calling 
upon  the  earl  of  Clare  to  surrender  the  barony  of  Tunbridge  to  the  eeo 
of  Canterbury,  to  which  it  had  formerly  belonged,  and  from  which  Becket 
affirmed  that  the  canons  prevented  his  predecessors  from  legally  separat- 
ing it.    The  earl  of  Clare  was  a  noble  of  great  wealth  and  power,  and 
allied  to  some  of  the  first  families,  and  his  sister  was  supposed  to  have 
gained  the  affections  of  the  king;  and  as  the  barony  of  Tunbridge  had 
been  in  his  family  from  the  conquest,  it  seems  probable  that  Becket  was 
induced  to  select  him  for  this  demand  of  restitution  of  church  property,  in 
order  the  more  emphatically  to  show  his  determination  to  prefer  the  inter- 
ests of  the  church  to  all  personal  considerations,  whether  of  fear  or  favour. 
William  D'Eynsford,  one  of  the  military  tenants  of  the  crown,  was  the 
patron  of  a  living  in  a  manor  held  of  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury.     To 
this  living  Becket  presented  an  incumbent  named  Laurence,  thereby  in- 
fringing the  right  of  D'Eynsford,  who  instantly  ejected  Laurence  vi  ei 
armis.    Becket  forthwith  cited  D'Eynsford,  and,  acting  at  once   accuser 
and  judge,  passed  sentence  of  excommunication  upon  hin.    D'Eynsford 
applied  for  the  interference  of  the  king,  on  the  ground  that  it  was  illegal 
that  such  a  sentence  should  be  passed  on  one  who  held  in  capite  from  the 
crown,  without  the  royal  assent  first  obtained.     Henry  accordingly,  act- 
ing upon  the  practice  established  from  the  conquest,  wrote  to  Becket,  with 
whom  he  no  longer  had  any  personal  intercourse,  and  desired  hiin  to  absolve 
D'Eynsford.     It  was  only  reluctantly,  and  after  some  delay,  that  Bt  cket 
complied  at  all ;  and  even  when  he  did  so  he  coupled  his  compliance  with 
a  message,  to  the  effect  that  it  was  not  for  the  king  to  instruct  him  as  to 
whom  he  should  excommunicate  and  whom  absolve !    Though  this  con- 
duct abundantly  showed  Henry  the  sort  of  opposition  he  had  to  expect 
from  the  man  whom  his  kindness  had  furnished  with  the  means  of  being 
ungrateful,  there  were  many  considerations,  apart  from  the  boldness  and 
decision  of  the  king's  temper,  which  made  Henry  resolute  in  not  losing 
any  time  in  endeavouring  to  put  something  like  a  curb  upon  the  licentious 
insolence  to  which  long  impunity  and  gross  superstition  of  the  great  body 
of  the  people  had  encouraged  the  clergy.     The  papacy  was  just  now  con 
siderably  weakened  by  its  own  schismatical  division,  while  Ilenry,  wealthy 
in  territory,  was  fortunate  in  having  the  kingdom  of  England  thoroughly  in 
submission,  with  the  sole  exception  of  the  clerical  disorders  and  assnmp 
tions  to  which  he  had  now  determined  to  put  a  stop.     On  the  other  hand 
those  disorders  were  so  scandalous,   and   those  assumptions  in   many 
cases  were  so  starllingly  unjust,  that  Henry  could  could  scarcely  fail  to 
have  the  best  wishes  of  his  subjects  in  general  for  the  success  of  his 
project.    The  practice  of  ordaining  the  sons  of  villains  had  not  merely 
caused  an  inordinate  increase  in  the  number  of  the  clergy,  but  had  also 
caused  an  even  more  than  corresponding  deterioration  of  the  clerical  char 


THB  TasAsnaT  3F  HISTOaV. 


916 


legal 
jm  the 

act- 

wiih 
5<  ive 
( cket 

with 
as  to 

con- 
expect 
being 
and 
osing 
ntious 

body 

con 
ealthy 
ily  in 
sump 

hand 
many 
fail  to 
or  his 
nerely 
also 

char 


tl 


t«r  ill  Rngland.  The  incontinence,  gluttony,  and  roystering  habits,  at- 
tributed to  the  lower  order  of  the  clergy  by  the  writer  of  a  much  later 
day,  were  light  and  comparatively  venial  offences  compared  to  those  which 
seem  but  too  truly  to  be  attributed  to  that  order  in  the  reign  or  Henry  II. 
Robbery,  adulterous  seduction,  and  even  rape  and  murder,  were  attrib- 
uted to  them ;  and  the  returns  made  to  an  inquiry  which  Henry  ordered, 
showed  that,  only  counting  from  the  commencement  of  his  reign,  i.  e.,  a 
period  of  somewhat  less  than  two  years,  a  hundred  murders  had  been 
committed  by  men  in  holy  orders  who  had  never  been  called  to  account. 

Henry  resolved  to  take  steps  for  putting  a  stop  to  this  impunity  of  crim- 
inals  whose  sacred  professions  only  made  their  criminality  the  greater 
and  more  detestable.  An  opportunity  of  bringing  the  point  of  the  clerical 
impunity  to  issue  was  afforded  by  a  horrible  crime  that  was  just  now 
committed  in  Worcestershire,  where  a  priest,  on  being  discovered  in  car- 
rying on  an  illicit  intercourse  with  a  gentleman's  daughter,  put  her  father 
to  death.  The  king  demanded  that  the  offender  should  be  delivered  over 
to  the  civil  power,  but  Becket  confined,  the  clerkly  culprit  in  the  bishop's 
prison  to  prevent  his  being  apprehended  by  the  king's  officers,  and  main- 
tained that  the  highest  punishment  that  could  be  inflicted  upon  the  priest 
was  degredation.  The  king  acutely  caught  at  this,  and  demanded  that, 
after  degredation,  when  he  would  have  become  a  layman  again,  the  cul- 
prit should  be  delivered  to  the  civil  power  to  be  further  dealt  with  as  it 
might  deem  fit ;  but  Becket  demurred  even  to  this,  on  the  plea  that  it 
would  be  unjust  to  try  an  accused  man  a  second  time  upon  the  same 
charge. 

Angered  by  the  arrogance  of  Becket,  and  yet  not  wholly  sorry  to  have 
such  a  really  sound  pretext  for  putting  some  order  into  the  pretensions  of 
the  church,  Henry  summoned  an  assembly  of  the  prelates  of  England,  for 
the  avowed  purpose  of  putting  a  termination  to  the  frequent  and  increasing 
controversies  between  the  ecclesiastical  and  the  civil  jurisdiction. 

Henry  himself  commenced  the  business  of  the  assembly  by  asking  the 
bishops,  plainly  and  categorically,  whether  they  were  willing  or  unwilling 
to  submit  to  the  ancient  laws  and  customs  of  the  kingdom.  To  this  plain 
question,  the  bishops,  in  a  more  Jesuitical  spirit,  replied  that  they  were 
willing  so  to  submit,  "saving  their  own  order;"  a  mental  reservation  by 
which  they  clearly  meant  that  they  would  so  submit — until  resistance 
should  be  safe  and  easy  !  So  shallow  and  palpable  an  artifice  could  not 
impose  upon  so  shrewd  a  prince  as  Henry,  whom  it  greatly  piovoked.  He 
departed  from  the  assembly  in  an  evident  rage,  and  immediately  sent  to 
require  from  Becket  the  surrender  of  the  ca'^.  los  and  honours  of  Eye  and 
Berkham.  This  demand,  and  the  anger  which  it  indicated,  greatly  alarm- 
ed the  bishops ;  but  Becket  was  undismayed ;  and  it  was  not  without  much 
difficulty,  that  Philip,  the  pope's  legate  and  almoner,  prevailed  upon  him 
to  consent  to  the  retraction  of  the  offensive  saving  clause,  and  give  an  ab- 
solute and  unqualified  promise  of  submission  to  the  ancient  laws.  But 
Henry  was  now  determined  to  have  a  more  precise  understanding  ;  a  for- 
mal and  definite  decision  of  the  limits  of  the  ecclesiastical  and  the  civil  au- 
thority ;  and  thus  in  some  measure  to  destroy  the  undue  ascendancy  which, 
as  effectually  as  insidiously,  the  former  had  for  a  long  time  past  been  ob- 
taining. He  therefore  collated  and  reduced  to  writing  those  ancient  cus- 
toms of  the  realm  which  had  been  the  most  egregiously  contravened  by 
by  the  clergy,  and  having  called  a  great  council  of  the  barons  and  prelates 
at  Clarendon,  in  Berkshire,  he  submitted  this  digest  to  them  in  a  form  of 
a  series  of  articles,  which  are  known  in  history  under  the  title  of  the 
■' Constitutions  of  Clarendon ;"  which  are  thus  briefly  summed  up:  "It 
was  enacted  by  these  constitutions  that  all  suits  concerning  the  advowson 
and  presentation  of  churches  should  be  determined  in  the  civil  courts- 
that  in  future  the  churches  belongi..g  to  the  king's  see  should  not  be  granted 


aia 


THE  TRBA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


in  ptrpetnity  without  his  consent ;  that  clerks  accused  or  any  crime  should 
he  tried  in  the  civil  courts  ;  that  no  one,  particularly  no  clerg^yman  of  any 
rank  should  depart  the  kingdom  without  the  king's  license ;  that  excom- 
nmnicated  pernons  should  not  be  b<jund  to  give  security  for  their  continu- 
ing in  their  present  place  of  abode  ;  that  laics  should  not  be  accused  in 
spiritual  courts,  except  by  legal  and  reputable  promoters  and  witnesses; 
that  no  chief-tenant  of  the  crown  should  be  excommunicated,  nor  his 
lands  be  put  under  an  interdict,  except  with  the  king's  consent ;  that  all 
appeals  in  spiritual  causes  should  be  carried  from  the  archdeacon  to  the 
bishop,  from  the  bishop  to  the  primate,  and  from  the  primate  to  the  king, 
and  should  proceed  no  farther  but  with  the  king's  consent ;  that  should 
any  law-suit  arise  between  a  layman  and  a  clergyman  concerning  a  tenant 
and  it  be  di^^putud  whether  the  land  be  a  lay  or  an  ecclesiastical  fee,  it 
shduld  be  first  determined  by  the  verdict  of  twelve  lawful  men  to  what 
class  it  belonged,  and  if  the  land  be  found  to  be  a  lay  fee,  then  the  cause 
should  dnaliy  be  determined  in  the  civil  courts ;  that  no  inhabitant  in  a 
lay  demesne  should  be  excommuni.cated  for  non-appearance  in  a  spiritual 
court  until  the  chief  officer  of  the  place  where  he  resides  be  consulted, 
that  he  may  compel  him  by  the  civil  authority  to  give  satisfaction  to  the 
church;  (hat  the  archbishops,  bishops  and  other  spiritual  dignitaries  should 
be  regarded  as  barons  of  the  realm,  should  possess  the  privileges  and  be 
subjected  to  the  burdens  belonging  that  rank,  and  should  be  bound  to  at 
tend  ti.e  king  in  his  great  councils,  and  assist  in  all  trials,  till  the  sentence 
either  of  death  or  of  loss  of  members  be  given  against  the  criminal;  that 
the  rfc/enue  of  vacant  sees  should  belong  to  the  king,  the  chapter,  or  such 
of  them  as  he  chooses  to  summon  should  sit  in  the  king's  chapel  till  they 
made  the  new  election  with  his  consent,  and  that  the  bishop  elect  shtmld 
do  homage  to  the  crown  ;  that  if  any  baron  or  tenant  in  capile  should  re- 
fuse lo  submit  to  the  spiritual  courts,  the  king  should  employ  his  authority 
in  obliging  him  to  make  such  submissions;  that  if  any   one  threw  off  his 
allegiance  to  the  king,  the  prelates  should  assist  the  king  with  their  cen 
sures  in  reducing  him ;  that  goods  forfeited  to  the  king  should  not  be  pro- 
tected in  churches  or  churchyards  ;  that  the  clergy  should  no  longer  pre- 
tend to  the  right  of  enforcing  payment  of  debts  contracted  by  oath  or 
promise,  but  should  leave  these  law-suits,  equally  with  others,  to  the  de- 
termination of  the  civil  courts ;  and  that  the  sons  of  villians  should  not  b« 
ordained  clerks  without  the  consent  of  their  lord." 

The  barons  present  at  this  great  council  were  all  on  the  king's  sid  •,  either 
from  actual  participation  of  his  sentiments  towards  the  clergy  or  from  awe 
of  his  power  and  temper ;  and  the  prelates,  perceiving  that  they  had 
both  the  king  and  the  lay  peerage  against  them,  were  fain  to  consent 
to  these  articles,  which  accordingly  were  voted  without  opposition.  But 
Henry,  misdoubting  that  the  bishops,  though  they  found  it  useless  to 
oppose  the  united  will  of  the  crown  and  peerage,  would  whenever 
circumstances  should  be  favourable  to  them  deny  the  authority  of  the 
constitutions,  as  being  enacted  by  an  authority  in  itself  incomplete, 
would  not  be  contented  with  the  mere  verbial  assent  of  the  prelates, 
but  demanded  that  each  of  them  should  set  his  hand  and  seal  to  the 
constitutions,  and  to  their  solemn  promise  to  observe  them.  To  this 
demand,  though  the  rest  of  the  prelates  complied  with  it,  Becket  gave 
a  bold  and  flat  refusal.  The  earls  of  Cornwall  and  Leicester,  the  most 
powerful  men  in  the  lay  peerage,  strongly  urged  him,  as  a  matter  of 
policy  as  well  as  obedience,  to  comply  with  the  king's  demand.  He 
was  so  well  aware  of  Henry's  drift,  and  so  far  from  being  desirous  of 
securing  the  pern-.anent  observance  of  the  constitutions  of  Clarendon, 
that  no  entreaties  could  induce  him  to  yield  assent,  until  Richard  de 
Hastings,  English  grand  prior  of  the  knights  templars,  knelt  to  him,  and 
in  tears  implored  him,  if  not  for  his  own  sake,  at  least  for  the  sake  ot 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HLSTOliV. 


)I17 


the  chnrcli,  not  to  continue  an  opposition  which  must  be  nnsiinccsafui 
and  would  only  excite  the  ruinous  upposition  of  a  numarch  equuiiy  re8«i« 
lute  and  powerfiii.  Stern  and  resolved  ua  Ueckct  had  shown  hiinnelf 
as  regarded  the  importunity  of  laymen,  this  evident  proof  tliat  upon  this 
point,  at  least,  he  no  longer  had  the  sympattiy  uf  even  chuiehnttint 
caused  Becket  to  give  way ;  and  he  tlierefore,  tliough  with  evident  re- 
luctance, took  an  oath  "  legally,  though  with  good  faith,  and  without 
fraud  or  reserve,  to  observe  the  constituli(tns  of  Clarendon. " 

But  the  king,  though  he  had  thus  far  triumphed  even  over  tlie  firm  and 
haughty  temper  of  the  primate,  was  by  no  means  so  near  to  romplete  suc- 
cess as  he  deemed  himself.  Pope  Alexander,  who  still  remained  in 
France,  and  to  whom  in  his  contests  with  the  anti-pope  H(;nry  had  done 
no  unimportant  service,  no  sooner  had  the  conslituliiHis  presented  to  him 
for  ratification,  than  he  perceived  how  completely  they  were  calculated 
to  make  the  king  of  England  independent  of  his  clergy,  and  the  kingdom 
itself  of  the  papacy;  and  he  was  so  far  from  ratifying,  tliai  he  condemned 
and  annulled  them.  When  Becket  found  his  own  former  opposition  thus 
sanctioned  by  the  present  feelings  and  conduct  of  the  pope,  he  regretted 
that  he  had  allowed  any  considerations  to  induce  him  to  give  his  signature 
and  assent.  He  immediately  increased  his  already  great  and  painful  aus- 
terities of  life  and  severity  of  discipline,  and  would  not  even  exercise  any 
of  the  functions  of  his  dignity  until  he  received  tlie  absolution  of  the  pope 
for  what  he  deemed  his  offence  against  the  ecclesiastical  privileges.  Nor 
did  he  confine  jiimself  to  mere  verbal  repentance  or  his  own  personal  dis- 
cipline, but  usied  all  his  eloquence  to  induce  the  English  prelates  to  engage 
with  him  in  a  fixed  and  firm  confederacy  to  regain  and  maintain  their 
common  rights.  Henry,  hoping  to  beat  Becket  at  his  own  weapons,  novtr 
applied  to  Alexander  to  grant  the  legaiine  commission  to  the  archbisliop 
of  York,  whom  he  obviously  only  wished  to  arm  with  that  inordinate  and 
dangerous  authority,  in  order  that  he  might  make  him  the  instrument  of 
Becket's  ruin.  But  the  design  was  too  obvious  to  escape  so  keen  an  ob- 
server as  Alexander,  who  granted  the  commission  of  legale,  as  desired, 
but  carefully  added  a  clause  inhibiting  the  legate  from  executing  any  act 
to  the  prejudice  of  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury.  On  finding  himself  thus 
bafUcd  upon  the  very  point  on  which  alone  he  was  solicitous,  Henry  so 
completely  lost  his  temper,  that  he  sent  back  the  document  by  the  very 
messenger  who  brought  it  over,  thus  giving  to  Alexander  the  compliment 
of  discernment,  and  the  satisfaction  of  having  completely  baffled  his  plan. 

1'he  anger  which  the  king  now  exhibited  threatening  extreme  measures, 
Becket  twice  endeavoured  to  leave  the  kingdom,  but  was  detained  on  both 
occasions  by  contrary  winds;  and  Henry  was  thus  enabled  to  cause  him 
great  expense  and  annoyance,  by  inciting  John,  mareschal  of  the  ex- 
chequer, to  sue  the  archbishop  in  his  own  court  for  some  lands  belonging 
to  the  manor  of  Pageham,  and  thence  to  appeal  to  the  king's  court.  When 
the  day  arrived  for  trying  the  cause  on  the  appeal,  the  archbishop  did  not 
personally  appear,  but  sent  four  knights  to  apologize  for  his  absence  on 
the  score  of  illness,  and  to  make  certain  technical  objections  to  the  form 
of  .John's  appeal.  The  king  treated  the  absence  of  Becket  as  a  wilful  and 
offensive  contempt,  and  the  knights  who  bore  his  apology  narrowly 
escaped  being  committed  to  prison  for  its  alledgcd  falsehood.  Being  re- 
solved that  neither  absence  nor  technicality  should  save  Becket  from  suf- 
fering, the  king  now  summoned  a  great  council  of  barons  and  prelates  at 
Northampton.  Before  this  court  Becket,  with  an  air  of  great  moderation, 
urged  that  the  niareschal's  cause  was  proceeding  in  the  archiepiscopal 
court  With  all  possible  regularity,  though  the  testimony  of  the  sheriff 
would  show  that  cause  to  be  iniquitous  and  unjust ;  that  he,  Becket,  far 
from  showing  any  contempt  of  the  king's  court,  had  most  explicitly  ac- 
knowledged and  submitted  to  his  auihoir'-v  bv  sending  four  of  his  knights 


•w 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


10  appear  for  him ;  that  even  if  their  appearnnce  should  not  be  accepted 
an  bein)|[  tantamuunt  to  his  own,  and  he  should  be  technically  made  guilty 
Of  an  offence  of  which  he  was  virtually  innocent,  yet  the  penalty  attached 
to  that  crime  was  but  a  small  one,  and  aa  he  was  an  inhabitant  of  Kent, 
he  was  entitled  by  law  to  an  abatement  even  of  that ;  and  that  he  was 
now,  in  loyal  obedience  to  the  king's  summons,  present  in  the  great 
council,  and  ready  before  it  to  justify  himself  against  the  charges  of  the 
iiiareschal.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  general  arrogance  of  the 
primate  and  of  his  ambition,  both  as  man  and  churchman,  it  is  impossible 
not  to  perceive  that  his  reasonings  were  here  very  just, and  that  the  king's 
whole  conduct  was  far  more  indicative  of  the  monarch  who  was  intent  on 
crushing  a  too  powerful  subject,  than  of  one  who  was  sincerely  and  right- 
eously desirous  of  "doing  justice  and  loving  mercy;"  and  it  is  equally  im- 
possible not  to  feel  some  sympathy  with  the  haughty  and  courageous  pri- 
mate, who,  when  pressed  down  by  a  foe  so  powerful  and  so  vindictive, 
was  abandoned  by  the  dignitaries  of  that  very  church  for  whose  sake, 
principally  at  least,  he  had  so  courageously  combatled.  In  the  present 
case,  as  in  the  case  of  the  constitutions  of  Clarendon,  the  bi8hr)ps  were 
induced  to  coincide  with  the  lay  barons,  who  had  from  the  (irst  determined 
to  side  with  the  king,  and  notwithstanding  the  convincing  logic  of  his  de- 
fence, he  was  pronounced  guilty  of  contempt  of  the  king's  court  and  of 
neglect  of  the  fealty  which  he  had  sworn  to  his  sovereign;  and  Henry, 
bishop  of  Winchester,  the  once  powerful  brother  of  the  late  king  Stephen, 
was,  in  spite  of  all  his  remonstrances,  compelled  to  sentence  the  primate 
to  confiscation  of  all  his  goods  and  chattels. 

Even  this  severe  sentence,  upon  what  we  cannot  but  consider  a  most 
iniquitous  judgment,  did  not  sufficiently  satisfy  the  vengeance  of  the  king, 
who  on  the  very  next  day  demanded  from  Beckct  the  sum  of  three  hun- 
dred pounds,  which  had  been  received  by  him  from  the  manors  of  Eye  and 
Berkham.  To  this  demand  Becket  replied,  that  as  this  suit  was  not  men- 
tioned in  his  summons  to  the  council,  he  ought  not  be  called  upon  to 
answer  it ;  that,  in  point  of  fact,  he  had  expended  more  than  that  sum 
upon  Eye  and  Berkham  castles  and  the  royal  palace  in  London ;  but  that 
rather  tHan  a  dispute  about  money  should  make  any  difference  between 
his  sovereign  and  himself,  he  would  at  once  consent  to  pay  the  sum,  for 
which  he  immediately  gave  the  necessary  sureties.  Even  this  submission 
could  not  soften  the  king's  determination;  he  demanded  five  hundred 
marks  which  he  had  lent  Becket  in  the  war  of  Toulouse — during  which 
war  he  had  done  the  king  much  zealous  and  good  service  ! — and  a  similar 
sum  for  which  the  king  alleged  that  he  had  become  Becket's  surety  to  a 
Jew ;  and  then,  as  if  to  leave  him  without  the  slightest  hope  of  escape,  he 
called  upon  him  to  furnish  an  account  of  his  administration  as  chancellor, 
and  to  pay  in  the  balance  due  from  him  on  account  of  all  the  baronies, 
prelacies,  and  abbeys  which  had  been  under  his  management  <5uring  his 
chancellorship.  To  this  demand  Becket  replied,  that  it  was  so  suddenly 
and  unexpectedly  made  that  he  must  require  some  delay  ere  he  could 
answer  to  it.  The  king  then  demanded  sureties,  and  Becket  desired  leave 
to  consult  his  suffragans  upon  that  point.  They  agreed  with  him  that  it 
would  be  utterly  impossible  for  him  to  procure  satisfactory  security  for 
the  enormous  amount  of  44,000  marks,  at  which  the  king  chose  to  esti- 
mate a  demand  which  must  in  its  very  nature  be  uncertain ;  and  Henry, 
bishop  of  Winchester,  advised  him  at  once  to  make  the  king  an  offer  of 
two  thousand  marks,  by  way  of  payment  in  full  of  all  demands,  certain  oi 
uncertain.  This  he  accordingly  offered,  but  the  king  refused  it,  as  he 
might  have  been  expected  to  do ;  for  in  the  first  place  he  desired  money 
far  less  than  the  torment  and  ruin  of  Becket,  and  in  the  next  place,  th' 
sum  of  two  thousand  marks,  though  large  in  itself,  was  small  ii<de».^  *' 
Comparison  to  the  sum  demanded  by  the  king,  and  could  hardi  >  1\>     - 


THE  TRBABfJUY  OF  HIBTORY 


319 


pected  to  satisry  him  ir  money  really  were  his  object.  Some  o,  Beckel*6 
feufTragHtis,  now  plainly  perceiving  that  his  ruin  was  the  kinv'a  objcut, 
Hdvised  him  to  resign  his  see  by  way  of  terminating  al!  king  s  charges 
and  demands;  while  others  advised  that  he  should  pla....y  submit  to  the 
king's  mercy.  But  Becket  seemed  to  gather  courage  trom  the  very  cir- 
cumslances  which  would  have  plunged  men  of  a  more  timid  spirit  into 
despair,  and  resolved  to  brave  the  utmost  that  the  king  could  inflict. 


rat  it 

for 

esti- 


8 


ID  01 

he 
ney 

th' 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    REION    OP    HBNKT    II.    (cONTINDBD). 

Hatino  spent  a  few  days  in  retirement  and  meditation  upon  the  trymg 
and  difficult  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed,  Becket  at  length  went 
to  church  and  performed  mass ;  having  the  communion  service  com- 
menced with  the  words  "  Princes  sat  and  spake  against  me,"  by  the 
selection  of  which  passage  he  appeared  to  desire  to  liken  himself  to  the 
persecuted  and  martyred  St.  Stephen.  From  church  Becket  proceeded  to 
the  royal  palace.  On  arriving  at  the  gate  he  took  the  cross  from  the  hands 
of  the  bearer,  and,  holding  it  before  hnn,  marched  to  the  royal  apartmtMits 
as  though  in  some  danger  which  made  the  presence  of  the  sacred  symbol 
necessary  for  his  protection.     The  king,  who  from  an  inner  apartment 

Eerceived  the  extraordinary  demeanour  of  Becket,  sent  some  of  I'le 
ishops  to  reason  with  him  upon  its  impropriety.  They  reminded  him 
that  he,  by  subscribing  to  the  constitutions  of  Clarendon,  had  agreed  with 
them  that  it  was  necessary  to  do  so ;  and  they  complained  that  he  ap- 
peared to  wish  to  induce  them  now,  by  his  example,  to  revolt  against  the 
civil  power,  when  it  was  too  late  for  either  of  them  to  do  so  without  the 
guilt  of  oflending  against  laws  to  which  they  had  consented  and  sworn  to 
support.  To  this  Becket  replied,  that  if  he  and  they  had  done  wrong  in 
swearing  to  support  laws  destructive  of  the  ecclesiastical  privileges,  the 
best  atonement  they  now  could  make  would  be  to  submit  themselves  to 
the  authority  of  the  pope,  who  had  solemnly  nullified  the  constitutions  of 
Clarendon,  and  had  absolved  them  from  the  oath  taken  to  secure  those 
constitutions;  that,  for  his  own  part,  the  heavy  penally  to  which  he  had 
been  cortdemned  for  an  offence  which  would  be  but  slight  even  had  he 
been  guilty  of  it,  which  he  was  not,  and  the  preposterous  demands  sub- 
sequently made  upon  him  by  the  king,  very  clearly  showed  that  it  was 
intended  utterly  to  ruin  him,  and  thus  prepare  a  way  for  the  destruction 
of  all  spiritual  immunities  ;  that  to  the  pope  he  should  appeal  against  what- 
ever iniquitous  sentence  should  be  passed  upon  him ;  and  that,  terrible  as 
the  vengeance  of  so  powerful  a  king  as  Henry  moat  undoubtedly  was,  it 
had  power  only  to  slay  the  body,  while  the  sword  of  the  church  could 
slay  the  soul. 

In  thus  speaking  of  appealing  to  the  pope,  Becket  not  only  opposed  the 
express  provision  of  the  constitutions  of  Clarendon,  by  which  appeals 
were  done  away  with  even  in  ecclesiastical  cases,  but  opposed  even  com- 
mon custom,  siich  appeals  never  havin?  lain  in  civil  cases.  Whatever 
excuse  Henry's  violence  might  furnish  for  appealing  to  Rome,  in  the  eye 
of  reason,  to  do  so  was  an  offence  both  by  the  letter  ami  the  spirit  of  the 
law;  Becket,  however,  waited  not  for  any  further  proof  of  the  king's  vin- 
dictiveness,  but  departed  secretly  for  Northampton,  and  after  wandering 
about  for  some  time  in  disguise,  and  undergoing  much  diffiLMilty,  at  length 
procured  a  ship  and  arrived  safely  at  Gravelines. 

In  France  the  persecuted  churchman  was  sure  to  find  warm  friends,  if 
not  actually  from  their  conviction  of  his  having  the  right  in  the  quarrel 
between  himself  and  the  king,  at  least  because  it  was  their  interest  to  up- 


130 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


hold  all  who  were  likely  in  aiiy  degree  lo  check  the  proud  prosperity  oi 
Henry.     In  this  both  the  king  of  Frunce  and  hia  powerful  vassal  Uie  earl  of 
Flanders  had  an  interebt ;  uud  in  that  particular  interest  they  forgot  their 
infinitely  greater  concern  in  the  obedience  of  subjects  to  their  sovereign, 
and  gave  the  self-exiled  prelate  a  warm  reception,  the  king  of  France 
even  going  so  far  as  to  pay  him  a  personal  visit  at  Soissons,  where  he 
had  fixed  the  prelate's  r-jsidence.     Henry  sent  a  magnificent  embassy  to 
Lyons  to  justify  his  conduct  to  the  pope  ;  but  he,  who  was  so  deeply  in< 
terested  in  the  success  of  Beckct,  gave  the  envoys  of  Henry  a  very  cool 
reception,  while  upon  Becket,  who  also  attended  to  justify  his  conduct, 
he  lavished  his  kindness  and  distinction.    The  king,  doubly  annoyed  that 
Becket's  person  was  beyond  his  power  and  that  he  had  obtained  so  marked 
a  welcome  abroad,  not  only  put  all  the  revenues  of  Canterbury  under 
sequestration,  but  even  procreedcd  to  the  meanly  malignant  length  of  ban- 
ishmg  the  whole  of  the  archbishop's  family  and  dependants,  to  the  number 
of  four  hundred.     In  order  that  there  might  be  no  doubt  that  his  intent 
in  this  measure  was  to  embarrass  Becket,  by  throwing  upon  him  the  sup- 
port of  this  host  of  helpless  people,  a  burden  the  mure  ruinous  from  the 
tiiinultaneous  sequestration  of  his  revenue,  ho  compelled  them  before  their 
departure  to  swear  that  they  would  immediately  join  the  archbishop.     In 
this  part  of  his  vindictive  design,  however,  Henry  was  defeated  by  the 
pope;  for  as  soon  as  these  exiles  arrived  in  France,  Alexander  absolved 
them  from  their  involuntary  oath,  and  distributed  them  among  the  con- 
vents of  Flanders  and  France ;  and  to  Beckct  himself  the  convent  of  Pon- 
tigny  was  given  for  a  residence,  his  income  being  furnishod  by  the  reve- 
nues of  that  convent  and  a  very  liberal  pension  allowed  to  iii.Ti  by  the  king 
of  France ;  and  here  Becket  remained  in  great  esteem  and  magnificence 
for  some  years. 

A.D.  1165. — Though  far  removed  from  Henry's  presence,  Thomas  h 
Becket  had  lost  neither  the  will  nor  the  power  to  annoy  him.  Both 
with  that  end  and  for  the  purpose  of  confirming  the  favourable  opinion  of 
the  pope  towards  himself,  he  now  resigned  into  Alexander's  hands  his 
see  of  Canterbury,  on  the  alledged  ground  that  he  had  been  uncanonically 
presented  to  it  by  the  king;  appparently  quite  unaware  or  careles!,  of  the 
fact,  that  that  plea  made  the  whole  of  his  conduct  illegal  and  gratuitous  by 
his  own  showing.  Alexander  well  pleased  at  the  deference  thus  shown 
to  him,  accepted  his  resignation,  but  immedia'cely  reinvested  him  and 
granted  him  a  bull  by  which  he  pretended  to  free  Becket  from  the  sentence 
passed  on  him  at  Northampton  by  the  great  council.  Another  glaring  in- 
consistency; this  sentence  being  fully  authorized  as  to  jurisdiction,  ty- 
rannical as  it  was,  in  fact,  by  the  constitutions  of  Clarendon,  which 
Becket  himself  had  signed  and  sanctioned.  But,  in  truth,  this  whole 
quarrel  was  a  series  of  inconsistencies,  absurdity,  and  wilfulness,  both 
on  the  one  side  and  on  the  other.  Being  unable  to  obtain  an  interview 
with  Alexander,  the  favourable  state  of  whose  affairs  enabled  him  to  re- 
turn to  Rome,  Henry  now  made  earnest  and  wise  preparations  for  pre- 
serving his  kingdom  and  himself  from  the  worst  consequences  of  the  open 
quarrel  with  the  pope  which  now  seemed  to  be  inevitable.  He  issued  the 
strictest  orders  to  his  justicaries  neither  to  forward  nor  to  allow  of  any 
appeals  from  their  courts  either  to  Becket  or  the  pope,  or  in  anywise  to 
appeal  to  or  obey  their  authority.  He  at  the  same  time  made  it  a  trea- 
sonable olTence  to  bring  any  interdict  into  the  kingdom  from  either  of 
these  dignitaries,  and  denouncing  upon  all  such  offences  the  punishment, 
Vi  case  of  clerks,  of  castration  and  deprivation  of  sight,  and  in  the  case 
of  laics,  of  death  ;  while  sequestration  and  banishment  were  to  be  the 
punishment  not  only  of  all  persons  who  should  obey  such  interdict,  but 
also  of  all  their  relations;  and  to  give  the  more  solemn  effect  to  these 
stern  orders,  he  obliged  all  his  subjects  to  swear  obedience  to  them 


THR  TRBA8URY  OF  HI9TOKT 


'J91 


of 
ent, 
ase 
the 
but 
ese 
em 


Some  notion  maybe  formrd  of  the  tremrntlous  pcm,  Henry  m  .  ^«ed, 
when  it  is  i*on<)iJerod  that  orders  so  nwet* ping  ua  these,  which  m  Home 
sort  severed  the  kingdom  fioin  its  depeiuiiincu  on  the  pitpal  court,  were 
miido  not  by  the  great  council  of  the  nation,  but  by  the  knig's  will  nhrnr 
As  Beckct  mill  povtsesed  vast  influence  over  the  clergy,  who  in  that  age 
had  an  almost  nbsolnte  power  over  the  minds  of  the  great  niiiHsur  (he  ptM>- 
pie,  Mctiry  did  not  deem  himseir  sufnciently  armed  by  these  urdcrs,  but 
entered  into  a  close  engagement  with  the  celebrated  emperor,  Frederic 
Barbarossa,  who  was  at  open  war  with  the  pope  Alexander;  and  still  far- 
ther to  alarm  the  pope,  Henry  showed  some  inclination  to  acknowledge 
the  anti-pope,  I'ascal,  HI. 

A.  D.  llf)6. — Nothing  daunted  by  the  prudent  arrangement  of  Henry,  oi 
by  the  effect  they  undoubtedly  had  upon  the  mind  of  Alexander,  Becket 
now  issued  u  censure  which  excommunicated  the  king's  chief  advisers  by 
name  and  generally  all  persons  who  should  favour  or  even  obey  the  ciin- 
stitntions  of  Clarendon.  Thus  placed  in  the  dilemma  of  being  unable  to 
release  his  friends  from  the  terrible  effects  of  excommunication,  without 
undoing  all  that  he  had  done,  and  making  a  formal  and  complete  acknowl- 
edgement of  the  pope's  power  to  absolve  and  therefore  to  excommutiicate, 
Henry  listened  to  the  advice  of  John  of  Oxford,  his  agent  with  tlie  pope, 
and  consented  to  admit  the  mediation  of  the  legates  Otho  and  William  of 
Pavia.  When  these  personages  proceeded  to  examine  into  the  affair,  the 
king  required  that  all  tlie  constitutions  of  Clarendon)  should  be  fully  ratified ; 
Becket,  on  the  other  hand,  insisted  that  before  any  sutrli  agreement  were 
made,  both  himself  and  his  adherents  should  be  restored  to  their  posses- 
sions and  position.  The  legate  William,  who  was  greatly  interested  for 
Henry,  took  care  to  protract  the  negotiation  as  far  as  possible,  and  to  rep- 
resent Henry's  disposition  in  the  most  favourable  light  to  tiie  pope.  But 
the  pretensions  and  demands  of  the  opponent  parties  were  far  too  much 
opposed  at  the  very  outset  to  admit  of  any  good  result  and  the  negotiation 
soon  fell  to  the  ground;  Henry, however,  profited  by  its  duration  and  the 
partial  restoration  of  the  pope  s  good  opinion,  to  procure  a  dispensation 
for  the  marriage  of  his  third  son,  Geoffrey,  to  the  heiress  of  Brittany,  a 
favour  to  which  he  attached  all  the  more  importance  because  it  very  deep- 
ly mortified  b..>ih  Becket  and  the  king  of  France. 

A.  D.  1167. — The  count  of  Auvergne,  a  vassal  •)f  the  Duchy  of  Guienne, 
having  offended  Henry,  that  monarch  entered  his  vassal's  domain;  and 
the  count  appealing  to  the  king  of  France  as  superior  lord,  a  war  ensued 
between  tlio  two  kings ;  but  it  was  conducted  with  no  vigour  on  eilhei 
side,  and  peace  was  soon  made  on  terms  sufficiently  unfavourable  to 
Henry  to  show  that  his  quarrel  with  Rome  had  lost  him  not  a  little  of  that 
superiority  which  he  had  previously  enjoyed  over  the  king  of  France. 

Both  the  pope  and  Henry  began  to  tire  of  their  disputes  which  they  at 
length  perceived  to  be  mutually  hurtful,  and  still  more  dai^gerous  as  to 
the  future  than  presently  injurious.  This  consideration  inclined  both  par- 
ties to  a  reconciliation,  but  was  not  sufHcieiit  to  put  an  end  to  their  jeal- 
ousies and  suspicions.  Several  attempts  at  coming  to  a  good  understand- 
mg  were  frustrated  by  petty  doubts  or  petty  punctilio  on  eitlier  side  ;  but 
at  length  the  nuncios  Gratian  and  Vivian  were  commissioned  by  the  pope 
to  bring  about  an  accommodation,  and  for  that  purpose  they  had  a  meet- 
ing with  Henry  in  Normandy.  After  much  tedious  discussions  all  diffl- 
euliies  seemed  happily  brought  to  an  end.  Henry  offered  to  sign  a  treaty 
in  the  terms  proposed  by  the  pope,  only  with  a  salvo  to  his  royal  dignity. 
But  Becket,  who,  however  much  wronged  at  one  time  seems  at  length  to 
have  learned  to  love  strife  for  its  own  sake,  took  fire  at  this  limitation, 
and  the  excommunication  of  the  king's  ministers  was  immediately  renew- 
ed. No  fewer  than  four  more  treaties  were  broken  off  by  a  similar  petli- 
Ress  of  temper  on  either  side :  and  it  is  quite  elear  from  all  accounts,  that 


!».#• 


TIIK  TIIRA8UBV  OF  I1I8T0EY. 


th«  fiult  lay  chiefly  with  Dttckel,  who,  rcrtainly,  whatever  other  qualitiea 
of  a  Chriatian  prulatc  he  waH  endowed  with  was  sadly  dericifiil  in  meek- 


-Honry,  who  perceived  thin  fault  of  Bcckot,  did  not  fail  to 
I  the  ultiiilioii  of  KiDjf   Loni«.     "Ther 


neM. 

A.D.  llfiO.      ^. 

foinl  it  out  to  the  ultiiilioii  of  Kinff  Loni«.  "There  have  been,"  Naid 
Icnrv,  with  great  fon-e  and  nhrewdncsi,  "many  kingB  of  Knghnid,  some 
of  ffrJater,  Nome  of  h'BS  authority  than  myself;  there  have  aUo  luen  many 
Brchbinfuips  of  Canterbury,  holy  and  good  men,  and  entitled  to  every  kind 
of  reNpect ;  let  liecket  but  act  towards  me  with  the  sumo  sutimissioii 
which  the  jfreatest  of  his  pred<!C('88orH  have  paid  to  the  least  of  mine, 
and  thrro  shall  be  no  more  eontroversy  between  us."  This  view  of  the 
case  wnH  so  reasonable  that  it  induced  Louis  for  a  time  to  withdraw  his 
friendship  and  support:  but  bigotry  and  interest  proved  an  overmatch  for 
reason,  and  the  prelate   soon  regained  the  French  kinu's  favour. 

A.  D.  1170. — At  len^^th,  to  the  great  joy  of  all  sensible  men  and  well- 
wishers  to  Knglund,  ail  di/Tlcultics  were  done  away  with,  and  Hecket  re- 
turned  to  Kngland.  By  thin  treaty  he  was  not  required  to  yield  any 
of  the  original  points  in  dispute;  he  and  his  adherents  were  restored 
to  their  possessions,  and  in  cases  where  vacancies  in  the  see  of  Canter- 
bury had  been  filled  up  by  the  king,  the  incumbents  ho  had  appointed  were 
now  expelled,  and  their  places  filled  by  men  of  Becket's  own  choice.  On 
the  king's  side  the  only  advantages  derived  from  this  reconciliiUion  were 
the  removal  of  the  terrible  sentence  of  excommunication  from  his  friends 
and  ministers,  and  the  termination  of  the  dread  in  which  he  had  so  long 
lived  of  seeing  an  interdict  laid  upon  his  whole  dominions.  But  that  was 
an  advantage  the  preciouisnoss  of  which  it  is  scarcely  possible  for  our 
generation,  so  happily  free  from  terrors  which  Rome  could  then  strike  into 
the  hearts  of  the  mightiest  nations,  adequately  to  appreciate.  That  Flenry 
set  no  ordinary  value  upon  the  peace  thus  procured  may  be  jiidgcd  from 
the  fact,  that  this  proud  and  powerful  king,  imiong  the  many  servile  flat- 
teries with  which  he  wooed  the  yood-humour  of  the  man  whose  greatness 
was  his  own  creation,  actually  on  one  occasion  stooped  so  low  as  to  hold 
the  stirr^ip  of  Becket  while  the  haughty  churchman  mounted  !  In  a  king 
this  excessive  and  unseemly  condescension  passes  for  policy  and  astute- 
ness ;  in  a  meaner  man  it  would  scarcely  escape  being  called  by  the  plainer 
and  less  complimentary  names  of  hypocrisy  and  servility. 

But  the  peace  secured  by  so  much  sacrifice  of  dignity  did  not  last 
long.  Henry  durins  Becket's  absence  had  associated  his  heir.  Prince 
Henry,  with  him  in  the  sovereignty,  and  had  caused  the  unction  to  be  be- 
stowed upon  him  by  Roger,  archbishop  of  York.  This  had  not  been  done 
so  secretly  but  that  the  exiled  prelate  had  been  informed  of  it,  and  both 
he  and  the  king  of  France  demanded  that  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
who  alone  could  regularly  bestow  the  unction,  should  renew  the  cere- 
mony both  upon  Prince  Henry  and  his  youthful  bride,  Margaret  of  France 
To  this  reasonable  demand,  which  indeed  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
the  prince  and  princess,  the  king  readily  and  frankly  acceded  ;  but  not 
contented  with  this  tacit  confession  that  in  a  case  of  urgency  the  king 
trenched  upon  his  privilege  and  he  was  now  ready  to  make  the  best  repa- 
ration in  his  power,  Becket  had  scarcely  landed  in  England  ere  he  sus- 
pended the  archbishop  of  York  and  excommunicated  the  bishops  of  Lon- 
don and  Salisbury,  by  authority  with  which  the  pope  had  armed  him.  De 
Warenne  and  Gervase,  two  of  the  king's  ministers,  astonished  and  dis- 
gusted at  this  wanton  and  gratuitous  breach  of  the  peace  so  lately  made 
up,  indignantly  demanded  whether  the  archbishop  really  desired  to  return 
to  his  native  land  only  to  bring  Are  and  sword  with  him. 

Entirely  unmindful  of  the  construction  which  sensible  and  just  men 
might  put  upon  his  litigious  and  vainglorious  airs  and  conduct,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  make  a  triumphal  entry  into  his  see ;  and  he  was  received  bv 


TH«  TEKA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


993 


the  multitiule  with  «  raplumnB  joy  ntxl  apnhuno  well  flltod  to  conflrm  him 
in  his  uncnmprunitsiiii;  liumour.  NtninilHlcd  hy  hin  evident  tHipul,iritv, 
hf  ituw  publiithi*.!  ipiilcnce  of  cxivjininiiiiicatidii  at^aiiiHt  Nigol  il«>  Stick* 
vilNs  Robrrt  dc  Hrof,  and  othorn,  on  the  ){>°*><»>d  of  thrir  hiivinif  cither 
assitled  nt  the  coronation  of  I'rincc  Henry,  or  joined  in  the  king'tt  perse- 
cution of  ihe  exilod  clerKy. 

When  the  arclihiithnp  of  York  and  the  hishopH  of  London  and  Salishiiry 
arrived  at  Bayeux,  where  Henry  then  was,  and  informed  him  of  Uecket'it 
now  vioUMiee,  the  kinjf's  indignation  that  all  his  earefnl  policy,  and  the 
condcscenition  which  could  not  but  have  been  moHt  painful  to  mi  proud  a 
pri  ice,  were  thus  completely  thrown  away,  was  tremendous.  Ho  broke 
oui  into  tho  mo8t  violent  invectives  upon  the  arrogance  and  ingratitude  uf 
Becket,  and  unfortunately  allowed  tiimself,  in  reply  to  the  archbishop  of 
York,  who  remarked  that  peace  was  hopeless  wliile  Becket  lived,  to  say 
that  it  was  tho  want  of  zeal  on  the  part  of  his  fricMids  and  servants  that 
had  caused  him  so  long  to  be  exposed  to  so  much  insolence  and  annoy- 
ance. Such  words  could  not  in  that  a^e  fall  innocuously  from  the  lipa  of 
a  monarch  far  less  powerful  and  far  less  beloved  by  his  courtiers  than 
Henry  was.  Reginald  Kitzurse,  William  do  Tracey,  Hugh  de  Moreville, 
and  Richard  Brito,  four  gentlemen  of  the  king's  househoht,  taking  a  mere 
expression  uf  very  natural  peevishness  for  an  actual  wish  for  tho  death  of 
Becket,  immediately  agreed  to  cross  over  to  Kngland  and  put  their  mas- 
ter's enemy  to  death.  They  were  missed  by  Henry,  who,  fearing  their 
desperate  purpose,  dispatched  a  message  (diarging  them  on  their  allegi- 
ance to  do  no  personal  injury  to  Becket.  Unhappily  they  were  not  over- 
taken in  time  to  arrest  them  in  their  ruthless  design.  Becket,  proud  of 
the  power  he  had  displayed,  was  residing  at  Canterbury  in  all  the  haughty 
security  of  one  who  felt  the  peace  and  safely  of  the  whole  nation  lo  be  in 
some  sort  hostages  for  his  safety  ;  of  one,  in  fact.  v.li,».se  person  the  most 
daring  of  his  enemies  must  look  upon  as  sotrr..ilnng  sacred  and  inviolable. 
This  nigh  opinion  of  his  value  in  the  ejus  of  mankind  was  fatal  to  him. 
When  the  four  resolved  assassins  reached  Canterbury  the  archbishop  waa 
hut  slenderly  guarded,  and  they  saw  him  go  without  fear  or  suspicion  to 
hear  vespers  in  the  church  of  St.  Benedict,  whither  they  followed  and 
butchered  him ;  unopposed  equally  in  the  commission  of  their  foul  and 
cowardly  crime  and  in  their  subsequent  departure. 

To  Henry  the  news  of  this  detestablo  and  no  less  impolitic  crime  came 
like  a  thunderbolt.  Confident  that  even  the  pope  would  see  tho  impro- 
priety of  Becket's  conduct,  he  had  already  contemplated  the  arrest  and 
regular  punishment  of  the  proud  prelate,  not  doubting  that  by  dexterous 
management  he  could  induce  the  pope  not  merely  to  approve,  but  even  to 
aid  his  measures.  But  now  his  position  was  completely  altered ;  instead  of 
proceeding  as  an  injured  and  insulted  king,  he  would  have  to  defend  him- 
self against  the  odious  charge  of  assassination.  He  could  not  but  seo 
thill,  even  in  the  judgment  of  the  most  disinterested  and  unprejudiced  men 
there  would  be  but  too  many  circumstances  of  shnnvd  suspicion  at  least; 
while  the  pope,  whose  policy  it  was  to  seize  upon  every  circumstance 
that  could  tend  to  increase  the  subjection  of  so  powerful  a  king  to  Rome, 
would  not  fail  publicly  to  attribute  this  crime  to  him,  whatever  might  be 
his  private  judgment;  and  for  hi'rtself  and  his  devoted  kingdom  he  could 
now  anticipate  nothing  but  excommunication  and  interdict ! 

So  completely  was  the  king  unmanned  by  his  fears,  that  he  shut  him- 
self up  in  his  own  apartments  for  three  days,  allowing  no  light  lo  enter 
them,  wholly  abstaining  from  food,  and  not  permitting  even  the  most 
favoured  of  his  subjects  to  approach  him.  Alarmed  lest  this  conduct 
should  actually  be  carried  to  llio  extent  of  self-deptruclion,  his  friends  at 
length  forced  their  way  to  him,  and  prevailed  u;  on  him  to  emerge  from 


224 


THE  TREASUay  OF  HI3T0EY. 


his  solitude  and  resume  the  cares  of  government  which  now  more  Inan 
ever  demanded  the  fullest  possible  exertion  of  his  fine  talents. 

A.  D.  1171.— It  must  be  evident  that  the  main  difficulty  of  Henry's  situ- 
ation originated  in  the  unwillingneRu  which  the  pope  would  feel  to  admit 
even  the  most  cogent  reasonings  against  the  king's  participation  of  the 
^'uilt  of  Deckel's  murderers.  Men  do  not  easily  yield  credence  to  argu- 
ments—and Henry  could  only  offer  arguments,  not  proofs— that  militate 
against  their  own  dear  and  cherished  interests.  But  this  calamity  both 
to  the  king  and  kingdom  was  too  terrible  and  too  instant  to  allow  of  any- 
thing being  left  unattempted  which  promised  even  the  probability  of  suc- 
cess" and  Flenry  immediately  sent  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  together  with 
the  bishops  of  Worcester  and  Evreux,  and  five  other  men  of  talent  and 
station,  to  make,  in  the  king's  name,  the  most  humble  submission  to  the 
pope.  There  was  some  difficulty  in  gaining  admission  to  his  holiness, 
who  was  at  the  very  time  that  his  forbearance  was  thus  abjectly  sought  by 
the  potent  and  proud  Henry,  almost  a  prisoner  in  his  own  palace;  so  sur- 
rounded and  pressed  was  he  by  his  enemies.  It  was  now  nearly  Easter, 
and  it  was  expected  that  the  name  of  Henry  would  be  included  in  the  list 
of  those  who  at  that  season  received  the  solemn  and  terrible  curses  of  the 
church.  Happily,  however,  Richard  Barre,  one  of  Henry's  envoys,  and 
others,  contrived  so  far  to  mollify  the  anger  of  the  pope,  that  his  fearful 
anathema  was  bestowed  only  in  general  terms  upon  Becket's  murderers 
and  their  instigators  or  abettors.  Two  legates  were  appointed  to  inquire 
into  the  affair;  and  thus,  after  all  his  fears,  Henry  escaped  the  worst  con- 
sequences of  a  crime  of  which  he  seems  really  to  have  been  innpcent,  but 
of  which  circumstances  would  as  certainly  have  enabled  the  pope  to  seem 
to  think  him  guilty — if,  indeed,  it  had  not  been,  just  then,  rather  more  to 
the  papal  iiiterest  to  obtain  a  strong  hold  upon  England,  by  accepting  the 
king's  submission  and  allowing  his  assertions  to  pass  for  proof,  than 
harshly  to  drive  both  king  and  nation  to  despair.  Thus  happily  delivered 
from  a  peril  so  imminent,  Heniy  directed  his  attention  to  Ireland. 

A.  D.  1173.-^A11  men's  eyes  had  of  late  been  anxiously  turned  upon  the 
king's  heir,  the  young  prince  Henry.  He  had  given  many  proofs  that  he 
possessed  in  no  ordiiuuy  degree  the  princely  qualities  of  courage,  liberal- 
ity, and  a  kindly  disposition;  but  those  who  looked  beneath  the  surface 
perceived  that  his  very  kindness,  unless  ruled  by  a  severe  and  uncommon 
discretion,  was  likely  to  give  him  a  fatal  facility  in  listening  to  the  advice 
of  any  friends  who  should  unduly  minister  to  his  other  chief  characteris- 
tic— an  excessive  ambition.  At  the  time  when,  during  Becket's  absence, 
he  irregidarly  received  the  royal  unction,  he  made  a  remark  which  was 
much  commented  upon,  and  which  many  did  not  fail  to  interpret  into 
proof  of  a  hauglity  and  aspiring  turn.  His  father  waited  upon  him  at  table, 
and  good-humouredly  observed  that  never  was  king  more  royally  attended ; 
upon  which  the  prince  remarked  to  one  of  his  favourites,  that  it  surely  was 
nothing  so  very  remarkable  that  the  son  of  a  count  should  wait  upon  the 
son  of  a  king. 

Agreeable  to  the  promise  made  by  the  king  at  the  period  of  the  return 
of  Becket,  young  Henry  and  the  princess  Margaret  were  now  crowned 
and  anointed  by  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  and  in  the  subsequent  visit  which 
the  prince  paid  to  his  father-in-law  it  is  thought  that  the  latter  persuaded 
him  that  the  fact  of  his  being  crowned  during  the  life-time  of  his  father, 
instead  of  being  a  mere  ceremony  to  secure  his  future  succession,  gave 
him  an  instant  claim  upon  a  part,  if  not  upon  the  whole,  of  his  father's 
dominions,  and  the  prince  was  unfortunately  but  too  well  inclined  to  give 
credit  to  the  arguments  by  which  this  view  of  the  case  was  supported. 
Eager  to  enjoy  the  power,  of  which  he  probably  but  little  understood  the 
pains,  he  formally  demanded  that  his  father  should  resign  either  England 
or  Normandy  to  him.    The  king  very  properly  refused  to  comply  with  so 


TUB  TRBABUEY  OF  UISTOIIT. 


m 


Ireturn 

»wned 

Iwhich 

^laded 

father, 

gave 

ilher's 

10  give 

Ported, 

lod  the 

[iglaud 

rith  8U 


extraordinary  a  request,  and  after  upbraiding  his  father  in  undutiful  terms, 
he  hastened  to  Paris  and  put  himself  under  the  protoctioii  of  the  killer  of 
France. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  domestic  vexation  that  assailed  the  king  just  as 
his  public  affairs  looked  so  hopeful.  Queen  Eleanor,  who  as  queen  of 
France  had  been  remarkable  for  her  levity,  was  in  hor  second  marriage 
no  less  remarkable  for  her  jealously.  Being  just  now  labouring  undci  a 
new  access  of  that  feeling,  her  anger  with  her  husband  led  her  to  the  most 
unjustifiable  length  of  exciting  their  cliildren  against  him.  Acting  upon 
the  hint  afforded  by  the  demand  of  Prince  Henry,  she  persuaded  the 
princes  Geoffrey  and  Richard  that  they  too  were  unkindly  aiul  unjustly 
used  by  their  father  who,  she  affirmed,  ought  no  longer  to  wilhold  from 
them  possession  of  the  portions  he  had  formally  assigned  to  them.  Offer- 
ing them  aid  in  the  undutiful  course  which  she  recommended  to  tliom,  she 
actually  disguised  herself  in  male  attire,  and  was  on  the  point  of  departing 
for  the  French  court,  there  to  carry  on  intrigues  contrary  to  her  duty 
alike  as  wife,  mother,  and  subject,  when  the  king  obtained  information  of 
her  designs,  and  placed  her  in  confinement.  This,  however,  did  not  put 
an  end  to  the  misconduct  she  had  mainly  originated,  and  there  were  princes 
who  were  sufficiently  envious  of  the  power  and  prosperity  of  Henry  to 
lend  their  aid  and  countenance  to  this  unnatural  coalition  of  sons  against 
their  father,  and  of  subjects  against  their  sovereign.  Judging  by  his  own 
experience  of  the  terror  in  which  even  the  proudest  and  boldest  men  held 
the  censure  and  interdict  of  Rome,  Henry  in  this  most  distressing  situation 
did  not  hesitate  to  apply  to  the  pope.  But  he  had  to  learn  that  to  arm  the 
papal  interdict  with  all  its  terrors  it  was  necessary  that  the  clergy  should 
have  some  strong  interest  in  the  question. 

The  pope  issued  his  bulls,  excommunicating  the  enemies  of  Henry ;  but 
as  the  interests  of  the  church  were  in  no  wise  concerned  the  clergy  cared 
not  to  exert  themselves  and  the  bulls  fell  to  the  ground  a  mere  brutem 
fiilmen.  Disappointed  and  disgusted  at  finding  that  weapon  so  powerless 
for  liim  which  was  so  formidable  against  him,  Henry  now  had  recourse  to 
the  sword ;  and,  as  he  had  prudently  amassed  great  treasures,  he  was  able 
to  take  into  his  pay  large  bodies  of  the  banditti-like  soldiery  with  whom 
the  continent  swarmed,  and  who  were  always  ready  to  fight  zealously 
and  bravely  too  in  any  cause  that  afforded  regular  pay  and  promised  large 
plunder.  His  sons,  on  the  other  hand,  were  not  without  the  means  or  the 
inclination  to  imitate  this  part  of  their  father's  conduct,  and  most  of  the 
barons  of  Normandy,  Gascony,  and  Brittany  willingly  took  part  with  the 
young  princes,  who  they  knew  must  in  the  course  of  nature  become  their 
rightful  sovereigns,  their  several  territories  being  already  irrevocably  set- 
tled upon  them  in  the  usual  forms.  Nor,  to  the  disgrace  of  the  English 
chivalry,  did  the  disaffection  to  the  injured  king  and  parent  stop  even  here  ; 
several  powerful  English  barons,  and  among  them  the  carls  of  Chester 
and  Leicester,  openly  declared  against  the  king.  That  no  sane  man  could 
have  been  led  into  this  opposition  to  the  king  by  any  doubt  as  to  tlin  jus- 
tice of  his  cause  is  morally  certain,  and  to  all  the  other  foulness  of  treason, 
these  at  the  least  laid  themselves  open  to  the  low  and  disgraceful  charge 
c'f  basely  deserting  fron  what  they  knew  to  be  the  more  just  side,  but 
deemed  to  be  also  the  weaker  one.  And  the  weaker  one,  to  all  human 
judgment,  it  doubtless  appeared  to  be.  But  few  comparatively  of  his 
barons  brought  their  retainers  to  the  aid  of  the  king,  whose  chief  dis- 
posable force  was  an  army  of  about  twenty  thousand  of  those  foreign 
mercenaries  of  whom  we  just  made  mention,  and  some  well-disciplined 
English  whom  he  withdrew  from  Ireland.  On  the  other  hand  the  combi 
nation  was  potent  and  threatening  indeed.  In  addition  to  the  numerous 
wealthy  and  warlike  barons  already  alluded  to  as  having  given  in  their 
adhesion  to  the  young  princes,  the  four  counts  of  Eu,  Blois,  Flanders  and 
1—15 


226 


THE  TRBASUEY  OP  H18T0EY. 


Boulogne,  followed  their  example,  and  William,  king  of  Scotland,  the 
natural  enemy  of  England,  gladly  joined  this  most  unholy  alliance. 

Louis  of  France  summoned  the  chief  vassals  of  the  crown  to  Paris,  and 
solemnly  bound  them  by  oath  to  adhere  with  him  to  the  cause,  and  Prince 
Henry  on  his  part  swore  to  be  faithful  to  his  allies  among  whom  he  dis- 
tributed large  gifts  of  territory— to  be  conquered  from  his  king  and  pa- 
rent— under  the  seal  of  state  which  he  treasonably  caused  to  be  made  for 
that  purpose. 

The  counts  of  Boulogne  and  Flanders  began  the  unnatural  war  by  lay- 
ing siege  to  Aumale  on  the  frontier  of  Normandy.  The  Count  d'Aumalo 
who  seems  to  have  been  only  withheld  by  some  prudential  and  merely 
selfish  motive  from  openly  and  in  form  allying  himself  with  his  master's 
enemies,  made  a  mere  show  of  defence  and  then  surrendered  the  place. 
Being  thus  apparently  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  those  whose  confederate 
he  seems  really  to  have  been,  he  had  a  specious  ground  for  committing 
still  further  treason,  without  exposing  himself  to  any  very  deadly  peril  in 
the  event  of  the  king  being  ultimately  triumphant  over  the  formidable  and 
unscrupulous  confederacy  against  him. 

The  king  of  France,  in  the  meantime,  was  not  idle;  with  seven  thou- 
sand knights  and  their  followers  and  a  proportionate  force  of  infantry,  he, 
accompanied  by  the  young  Prince  Henry,  laid  seige  to  Verneuil.  The 
place  was  bravely  defended  by  Hugh  de  Beauchamp,  but  the  garrison  at 
the  end  of  a  month  became  so  short  of  provisions,  that  de  Beauchamp  was 
obliged  to  consent  to  a  surrender  should  he  not  be  relieved  in  the  course 
of  three  days.  Ere  the  expiration  of  this  time  King  Henry  and  his  army 
appeared  on  the  neighbouring  heights,  imd  the  French  monarch  then  de- 
manded a  conference,  for  the  purpose,  as  he  alleged,  of  putting  an  end  to 
the  differences  between  Henry  and  his  sons — differences,  it  should  never 
be  forgotten,  which  Louis  had  himself  done  his  utmost  to  fan  into  a  flame. 
Henry,  not  for  a  moment  suspecting  Louis  of  any  treacherous  intention, 
agreed  to  this  proposal ;  and  Louis  having  thus  beguiled  him  into  abstain- 
ing from  forcible  interference  on  behalf  of  the  brave  garrison  until  the 
term  agreed  upon  for  the  truce  had  completely  expired,  called  upon  Beau- 
champ to  make  good  his  promise  of  surrender,  on  pain  of  being  held  man 
sworn ;  and  then,  having  set  fire  to  Verneuil,  set  his  army  on  the  retreat 
from  before  it,  and  Henry  fell  upon  the  rear,  which  lost  many  both  in 
killed  and  prisoners. 

The  barons  of  Brittany,  headed  by  Ralph  do  Fougeres  and  the  earl  of 
Chester,  were  encountered  by  the  king's  troops  near  Dol,  and  defeated 
with  the  loss  of  fifteen  hundred  in  killed,  besides  an  immense  number  of 
wounded  and  prisoners.  The  leaders  with  their  diminished  forces  took 
shelter  in  Dol,  but  Henry  besieged  the  place  so  vigorously,  that  they  were 
speedily  compelled  to  surrender. 

Instead  of  being  seduced  by  his  successes  into  any  inveteracy  of  pur- 
pose against  his  enemies,  Henry  once  more  agreed  to  treat  with  the  chief 
of  them,  Louis  of  France.  A  meeting  accordingly  took  place  between 
the  two  monarchs,  the  three  young  princes,  to  their  infinite  discredit,  prom- 
inently appearing  in  the  retinue  of  their  father's  enemy.  As  their  outra- 
geous demands  were  in  fact  the  main  cause  of  dispute  between  the  two 
monarchs,  Henry  addressed  himself  to  those  demands,  and  made  his  sons 
oflfers  far  more  liberal  than  became  him  to  offeror  them  to  accept ;  but  the 
peaceable  purpose  of  this  memorable  meeting  was  wholly  frustrated  by 
the  earl  of  Liecester,  who,  probably  at  the  secret  instigation  of  Louis,  be- 
haved with  such  open  insolence  to  Henry,  that  the  meeting  was  broken 
up  without  any  conclusion  being  arrived  at. 

Though  Henry  had  been  so  successful  on  the  continent  in  repressing  his 
enemies  and  in  upholding  his  authority,  it  was  in  no  small  danger  in  Eng- 
land ;  for,  Prince  Henry  having  agreed  to  resign  Dover  and  the  othe 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


827 


\t,  prom- 
outra- 

Ithe  two 

Ihis  sons 
but  the 

^ated  by 
)uis,  be- 
broken 

ssing  bis 
■  iu  Eng- 
le  othe 


strongholds  of  Kent  into  the  hands  of  the  earl  of  Flanders,  there  was  so 
little  of  pure  public  spirit  among  the  English,  that  a  most  extensive  con- 
federacy was  formed  to  aid  in  this  scheme,  which  would  have  deserved  no 
milder  name  than  that  of  a  national  suicide.  But  fortunately  for  both 
Henry  and  his  kingdom,  while  the  lay  nobles  and  their  dependants  were 
thus  hostile  or  indifferent,  he  was  in  good  odour  with  the  clergy  just  at 
this  period,  to  which,  probably,  he  mainly  owed  it  that  he  was  not  utterly 
ruined. 

Richard  de  Lauy,  whom  Henry  had  entrusted  with  the  high  and  impor- 
tant office  of  guardian  of  the  realm,  greatly  distinguished  himself  at  this 
period,  both  by  his  loyalty  and  his  conduct.  He  repelled  and  obtained  the 
submission  of  the  kin?  uf  Scotland,  who  had  led  his  ravaging  troops  into 
Northumberland;  and  immediately  after  having  done  this  good  service, 
led  his  victorious  troops  southward  to  oppose  a  far  superior  force  of  Flem- 
ings who  had  landed  on  the  coast  of  Suffolk,  and  thence  marched  into  the 
very  heart  of  the  kingdom.  In  the  action  whioh  ensued  the  Flemish  force, 
consisting  for  the  most  part  of  hastily-raised  and  ill-disciplined  artizans, 
were  routed  almost  at  the  first  charge  of  De  Lacy's  disciplined  followers, 
and  nearly  ten  thousand  were  slain  or  made  prisoners,  the  earl  of  Leices- 
ter himself  being  among  the  latter. 

This  defeat  of  the  Flemings  delivered  ttie  kingdom  from  that  particular 
danger,  indeed,  but  in  no  wise  abated  the  evil  determination  of  the  king's 
heartless  sons  and  their  allies.  The  earl  of  Ferrers  and  several  powerful 
friends  of  the  earls  of  Leicester  and  Chester  were  openly  in  arms  against 
their  king ;  the  earls  of  Clare  and  Gloucester  were  strongly  suspected  of 
being  prepared  to  take  the  same  course  ;^and  the  king  of  Scotland  scarce- 
ly allowed  the  term  to  expire  during  which  he  had  engaged  to  keep  the 
peace,  ere  he  invaded  the  northern  counties  of  England  with  a  force  of 
eighty  thousand  men,  who  committed  the  most  wanton  and  extensive 
spoliation.  In  this  state  of  things,  Henry,  having  put  his  continental  ter- 
ritories into  a  state  of  comparative  security,  hastened  over  to  England  to 
try  the  effect  upon  his  enemies  of  his  personal  presence- 
Well  knowing  the  effect  of  all  superstitious  observances  upon  the  prin- 
cipal part  of  his  subjects,  he  had  no  sooner  landed  at  Southampton  than 
he  hastened  to  the  city  of  Canterbury,  distant  as  it  was,  and,  arriving  there, 
quitted  his  horse  and  walked  barefooted  to  the  shrine  of  that  now-sainted 
Thomas  k  Becket,  who  in  life  had  caused  him  so  much  annoyance  and 
danger.  Having  prostra'ed  himself  before  the  shrine,  he  next  caused  the 
monks  of  the  place  to  be  assembled,  and,  stripping  off  his  garments,  sub- 
mitted his  bare  shoulders  to  the  scourge.  How  humiliating  an  idea  does 
it  not  give  us  of  that  age  to  reflect  that  this  degrading  conduct  was,  per- 
haps, the  most  politic  that  Henry  could  have  chosen  to  forward  the  great 
object  he  then  had  in  view — the  conciliation  of  the  zealous  good-will  of  all 
ranks  of  his  subjects — for  among  all  ranks,  not  excepting  the  very  highest, 
superstition  then  had  a  mysterious  and  a  mighty  power.  Having  com- 
pleted all  the  degrading  ceremonials  that  the  monks  chose  to  consider  es- 
sential to  the  final  and  complete  reconciliation  of  the  king  to  the  saint, 
absolution  was  solemnly  given  to  Henry,  and  he  departed  for  London. 
News  shortly  after  arrived  of  a  great  victory  that  Henry's  troops  had  ob- 
tained over  the  Scots ;  and  the  monks,  ever  inclined  to  the  post  hoc,  proper 
!<oc,  principle,  did  not  fail  to  attribute  that  victory  to  the  pious  means  by 
fvhich  Henry  had  appeased  Saint  Thomas  h.  Becket,  who  had  thus  signal- 
ized his  forgiveness. 

William  of  Scotland,  though  repulsed  by  Henry's  generals,  still  showed 
himself  unwilling  to  deprive  his  troops  of  the  agreeable  employment  ot 
wasting  the  northern  provinces  of  England ;  and  like  a  half-gorged  vulture 
disturbed  in  its  ravening  feast,  he  still  lingered  near.  Having  formed  a 
samp  at  Alnwick,  in  Northumberland,  he  sent  out  numerous  detachments 


228 


THE  THBA8UHY  OF  HI8T0KY. 


in  quest  uf  spoil.  However  favourable  this  course  might  be  to  his  cupkl 
ity,  it  greatly  weakened  liiin  in  a  military  point  of  view  ;  and  Glanville, 
the  celebrated  lawyer,  who  at  this  time  was  a  very  principal  leader  and 
support  of  the  English  army,  having  obtained  exact  information  of  Wil- 
liam's situation,  resolved  to  make  a  oold  attempt  to  surprise  him.  After 
a  fatiguing  march  to  Newcastle,  he  barely  allowed  his  troops  time  for  hasty 
refreshment,  of  which  both  man  and  horse  stood  in  dire  need,  and  thei» 
set  out  on  a  forced  night-march  to  Alnwick,  a  distance  of  upwards  of  thirty 
miles,  where  he  arrived  very  early  in  the  morning  of  the  15th  of  July, 
and,  fortunately,  under  cover  of  a  genuine  Scotch  mist,  so  dense  as  to 

[trevent  his  approach  from  being  observed.  Though,  after  making  all  al- 
ovvance  for  the  detachments  which  William  had  sent  out,  Glanville  felt 
that  !.\e  was  far  inferior  in  force  to  the  Scots,  he  gallantly  gave  his  troops 
the  order  to  charge.  So  completely  secure  had  William  felt  from  any  .such 
attack,  that  it  was  not  until  English  banners  flew  and  English  blades  flashed 
in  his  very  camp,  that  he  d^amed  of  any  hostile  force  being  within  many 
miles  of  him.  In  the  furious  scence  that  ensued  he  behaved  with  great 
personal  gallantry,  boldly  charging  upon  the  serried  ranks  of  the  English 
with  only  a  hundred  of  his  immediate  followers.  But  his  negligence  as  a 
commander  had  prodi.ced  a  state  of  disadvantage  which  was  not  to  be 
remedied  by  any  valour,  however  great.  This  little  band  was  speedily 
dispersed,  and  he,  being  fairly  ridden  down,  was  made  prisoner.  Tlie  news 
of  his  capture  speedily  spread  among  his  troops,  whose  confusion  was 
tiius  rendered  too  complete  to  allow  of  their  leaders  rallying  them ;  and 
they  hastily  retreated  over  the  borders,  fighting  among  tiiemselves  so  fu- 
riously during  their  retreat,  that  they  are  said  to  have  actually  lost  more 
in  killed  and  wounded  by  Scottish  than  by  English  swords. 

This  defeat  of  the  Scotch,  and  the  capture  of  William,  upon  whom 
the  English  rebels  had  so  mainly  depended  for  diversion  of  their  king's 
strength,  as  well  as  for  more  direct  assistance,  left  these  latter  no  safe 
course  but  submission;  and  that  course,  accordingly,  was  speedily  followed 
by  all  ranks  among  them.  The  clergy  with  their  usual  self-complacency 
attributed  all  this  success  to  the  submission  which  they  had  induced  the 
king  to  make  to  Becket ;  and  Henry,  well  knowing  how  much  more  power 
superstition  had  over  the  minds  of  his  subjects  than  any  political  or  even 
moral  considerations,  however  clear  or  important,  astutely  affected  to  be- 
lieve all  that  they  affirmed,  and  by  every  means  endeavoured  to  propagate 
the  like  belief  among  his  subjects. 

Meantime  the  serpent  of  revolt  was  on  the  continent, "  scotched  not  kil- 
le'' ;"  the  young  prince  Henry,  with  a  perseverance  worthy  of  a  better 
cause,  having  in  spite  of  all  his  father's  triumphs  persisted  in  carrying  on 
his  rebellious  designs.  He  and  the  earl  of  Flanders  had  assembled  a  large 
army,  with  which  they  were  preparing  to  embark  at  Gravelines ;  but  wheo 
they  heard  of  the  signal  defeat  which  King  Henry's  troops  had  inflicted 
upon  the  Flemings  they  laid  aside  their  intention  of  invading  England,  and 
proceeded  to  join  their  force  to  that  of  the  king  of  France,  who  was  be- 
sieging Rouen,  in  Normandy. 

The  people  of  Rouen,  who  were  much  attached  to  King  Henry,  and 
proportionally  fearful  of  falling  under  the  rule  of  Louis,  defended  the  place 
with  so  much  courage  and  success,  that  Louis  deemed  it  necessary  to 
have  recourse  to  a  stratagem  that  did  far  more  credit  to  his  ingenuity  than 
to  his  honour.  The  festival  of  St.  Laurence  occurring  just  at  that  time, 
he  proclaimed,  under  pretence  of  a  pious  desire  to  keep  it  with  due  solemn- 
ity, a  cessation  of  arms.  This  was  agreed  to  on  the  part  of  the  unsus- 
pecting citizens ;  and  Louis,  hoping  to  surprise  them,  immediately  made 
preparations  for  the  attack.  It  chanced  that  while  all  in  the  French  camp 
were  in  motion,  some  p.-iests  of  Rouen  had  mounted  to  a  steeple  to  over- 
look it,  merely  from  curiosity.   Struck  with  a  degree  of  bustle  that  seemed 


THE  TOfiASUay  OF  HISTORY. 


229 


BO  inappropriate  to  tlie  Holemn  truce  that  had  been  proclaimed,  they  caused 
the  alarm  bell  of  the  city  to  be  rung,  and  the  soldiers  and  citizens  imme- 
diately hastened  to  their  appointed  stations,  and  were  but  just  in  lime  to 
repulse  the  enemy,  many  of  whom  had  already  succeeded  in  mounting  the 
walls.  The  French  lost  many  men  in  this  assault,  and  on  the  following 
day,  before  they  could  renew  it,  King  Henry  marched  into  the  place  in  full 
view  of  the  enemy,  and,  ordering  the  gates  lobe  thrown  open,  dared  them 
to  the  renewal  of  their  attack.  Louis,  who  now  saw  Rouen  completely 
safe  at  the  very  moment  when  he  fancied  it  almost  within  his  grasp 
had  no  thought  left  but  how  he  should  best  release  himself  from  the  dan- 
ger of  a  decisive  defeat.  Trusting  to  the  desire  which  Henry  had  all 
along  manifested  to  come  to  peaceable  terms,  Louis  proposed  a  confer- 
ence. Henry  readily  fell  into  the  snare,  and  Louis  profited  by  the  interval 
which  he  thus  gained,  and  marched  his  army  into  France. 

Having  thus  secured  his  army,  h6wever,  Louis,  who  by  this  time  was 
nearly  as  anxious  as  Henry  for  a  termination  of  their  disputes,  agreed  to 
a  meeting,  which  accordingly  took  place  near  the  ancient  city  of  Tours, 
and  peace  was  concluded  on  terms  far  more  favourable  to  Henry  than 
those  he  had  offered  at  the  memorable  conference  which  was  abruptly  ter- 
minated by  the  insolent  misconduct  of  the  earl  of  Leicester. 


and 
e  place 
sary  to 
tythan 
It  time, 
olemn- 
unsus- 
made 
camp 
over- 
jeemed 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE   REION    or    HENRT    II.    (CONCLUDED). 

A.  D.  1175. — Firm  in  adversity,  Henry  had  the  still  further  and  more  un- 
common merit  of  being  moderate  in  prosperity.  He  had  in  various  ac- 
tions taken  nearly  a  thousand  knights  prisoners,  and  these  he  now  liberated 
without  ransom,  though  the  customs  of  the  age  would  have  warranted 
contrary  conduct  without  the  slightest  impeachment  of  either  his  honour 
or  his  generosity.  To  William  of  Scotland,  as  the  repeated  enmity  of 
that  monarch  fully  warranted,  he  behaved  with  more  rigour.  As  the  price 
of  his  release  William  was  obliged  to  agree  to  do  homage  for  his  terri- 
tories to  Henry,  to  engage  that  the  prelates  and  barons  of  his  kingdom 
should  also  do  homage,  and  that  they  should  swear  to  side  with  the  king 
of  England  even  against  their  native  prince  ;  and  that  as  security  for  the 
performance  of  this  agreement,  the  five  principal  Scottish  fortresses, 
namely,  Edinburgh,  Stirling,  Berwick,  Roxburgh,  and  Jedburgh,  should 
be  placed  in  the  hands  of  King  Henry.  Even  when  the  terms  of  the 
agreement  had  been  duly  complied  with  by  the  Scotch,  Henry  showed 
no  inclination  to  relax  from  his  severity  upon  a  people  who  had  caused 
him  so  much  annoyance  by  their  inveterate  enmity.  Contrariwise,  he  now 
required  that  Berwick  end  Roxburgh  should  be  given  up  to  him  altogether, 
and  that  he  should  for  a  given  time  retain  the  castle  of  Edinburgh.  Thus 
the  eagerness  with  which  William  lent  his  aid  in  the  endeavour  to  crush 
Henry,  ended  in  the  latter  prince  obtaining  the  first  triumph  over  that 
kingdom  which  was  ever  obtained  by  an  English  monarch. 

A.  D.  1176. — Henry  wisely  employed  the  peace  which  his  victories  had 
procured  him  in  remedying  those  disorders  which  had  sprung  up  among 
his  own  subjects.  He  made  or  restored  laws  against  those  crimes  which 
had  the  most  flagrantly  increased,  such  as  counterfeiting^  coin,  arson,  rob- 
bery, and  murder.  If,  when  we  read  of  his  enacting  such  severe  punish- 
ments for  those  offences  as  amputation  of  the  right  hand  and  foot,  we  feel 
inclined  to  censure  the  king,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  he  had  to  deal 
with  an  age  little  better  than  semi 'barbarous,  and  was  probably  obliged 
against  his  will  to  legislate  down  to  the  public  intelligence.  We  are  the 
more  in  ;lined  to  make  this  allowance  for  him  in  some  cases,  because  in 


230 


THB  THKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Others  he  gave  very  plain  proofs  that  he  possessed  both  understanding  and 
good  feeling  far  in  advance  of  his  age.  In  the  case,  for  instance,  of  the 
absurd  trial  by  battle,  which  disgraced  the  statute-book  even  so  lately  as 
the  reign  of  George  III.,  Henry,  though  the  time  was  not  ripe  for  its  com- 
plete  abolition,  enacted  that  either  of  the  parties  might  challenge  in  its 
stead  a  trial  by  a  jury  of  twelve  freeiiolders. 

To  make  the  administration  of  justice  more  certain,  with  a  view  both  to 
repressing  crinie  and  to  protect  the  community  against  the  oppressions  ol 
the  nobles,  Henry  divided  England  into  four  great  circuits,  to  be  traversed 
by  itinerant  justices  selected  from  among  those  prelates  and  lay  noblea 
most  remarkable  for  learning  and  their  love  of  justice.  He  also  made 
some  very  useful  regulations  with  a  view  to  a  defence  of  the  kingdom, 
each  man  beine  obliged  to  arm  himself  according  to  his  rank. 

While  the  knig  was  thus  wisely  employing  his  leisure,  his  sons  were 
meditating  further  annoyance  to  him.  Prince  Henry  renewed  his  demand 
for  the  complete  resignation  of  Normandy,  and  on  receiving  a  refusal  pro- 
ceeded to  the  court  of  France  with  his  queen  with  the  evident  design  of 
renewing  his  hostilities  against  his  too  indulgent  father.  But  Philip,  who 
had  just  succeeded  to  Louis  on  the  throne  of  France,  was  not  just  now 
prepared  for  war  against  so  powerful  a  king  as  Henry,  and  the  young 
prince  was  therefore  once  more  obliged  to  make  his  submission  to  his 
much-enduring  sovereign  and  parent.  Prince  Henry  and  Geoffrey  now 
became  engaged  in  a  feudal  strife  with  Ihoir  brother.  Prince  Richard. 
The  king,  with  his  usual  anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  these  most  turbulent 
and  nndutiful  princes,  interfered  to  restore  peace  among  them,  but  had 
scarcely  succeeded  in  doing  so  when  he  once  more  found  Prince  Henry 
arrayed  against  him. 

A.  D.  1183 — To  what  end  the  shameful  conspiracies  of  this  incorrigible 
and  ungrateful  prince  would  at  length  have  arrived  it  is  difficult  to  judge, 
though  we  may  but  too  reasonably  presume  that  his  real  aim  was  the 
actual  deposition  of  his  father.  But  the  career  of  the  prince  now  drew  to 
an  end.  He  had  retired  to  the  castle  of  Martel,  near  Tureijne,  to  mature 
his  schemes,  and  was  there  seized  with  a  fever.  Finding  himself  in 
danger,  he  sent  to  entreat  that  his  father  would  visit  him  and  personally 
assure  him  of  forgiveness.  But  the  king,  though  not  less  affectionate 
than  of  yore,  had  received  so  many  proofs  of  his  son's  perfidy,  that  he 
feared  to  trust  himself  in  his  hands.  The  prince  died  on  the  11th  of  June; 
and  the  king,  who  fainted  on  hearing  the  news,  bitterly,  but  surely  most 
unjustly,  reproached  himself  with  hard-heartedness  in  having  refused  to 
visit  him. 

Prince  Henry,  who  died  in  the  twenty-eighth  year  of  his  age,  though 
married,  left  no  children.  The  Prince  Richard,  therefore,  now  filled  the 
important  situation  of  heir  to  the  English  throne ;  and  the  king  proposed 
that,  in  this  altered  state  of  things,  Prince  John,  who  was  his  fa- 
vourite son,  should  inherit  Guienne.  But  Richard,  unmindful  of  the  grief 
which  his  father  was  already  enduring,  not  merely  ref  ^aed  to  consent  to 
this  arrangement,  but  proceeded  to  put  that  duchy  in  o  a  condition  to 
make  war  against  his  brother  Geoffrey,  who  was  in  possession  of  Brittany, 
and  to  resist,  if  needful,  the  king  himself.  Well  knowing  how  much  more 
influence  Eleanor  had  over  their  sons  than  he  had,  the  king  sent  for  her, 
and  as  she  was  the  actual  heiress  of  Guienne,  Richard,  so  midutiful  to- 
wards his  father,  at  once  delivered  the  duchy  up  to  her. 

A.  D.  1185. — Scarcely  had  Richard  become  reconciled  to  his  father, 
when  Geoffrey,  being  refused  Anjou,  of  which  he  had  demanded  the  an- 
nexation to  his  duchy  of  Brittany,  levied  troops  and  declared  war  against 
his  father ;  but  before  this  unnatural  prin(;e  could  do  any  considerable 
portion  of  the  mischief  which  he  obviously  intended,  he  was  slain  acci- 
dentally  by  one  of  his  opponents  at  a  tournament.    His  posthumous  son 


THE  TREA8UEY  OP  HISTORY. 


231 


father, 
the  an- 
rtgainst 
lerable 
11  acci- 
us  son 


w\'.o  was  chrislepod  Arthur,  was  invested  with  the  duchy  of  Brittany  by 
KiiiR  Henry,  whu  also  constituted  himself  guardian  of  the  youthful  prince. 
The  attention  of  both  Henry  and  his  rival,  Philip  of  France,  was  soon 
called  from  their  personal  diflfesences  to  a  new  crusade,  which  Rome  was 
now  anxious  that  the  European  sovereigns  should  engage  in.  Saladin,  a 
gallant  and  generous-spirited  prince,  but  no  less  a  determined  opponent  of 
tlie  cross,  having  seated  himself  on  the  throne  of  Egypt,  boldly  undertook 
the  task  of  expelling  the  Christians  from  the  Holy  Land.  His  object  was 
greatly  favoured  by  the  folly  of  the  Christian  leaders,  who,  instead  of 
uniting  to  oppose  the  Infidels,  were  perpetually  at  enmity  among  them- 
selves. To  this  general  folly  treason  was  added,  and  the  count  of  Tripoli, 
who  had  the  command  of  the  Christian  forces  on  the  frontier,  perfidiously 
allowed  Saladin  to  advance,  and  deserted  to  him  at  Tiberiad,  where  the 
soldan  was  completely  victorious,  the  long  tottering  kina[dom  of  Jerusa- 
lem being  completely  overturned,  and  the  holy  city  itself  captured.  The 
kingdom  of  Antloeh  was  also  subdued  ;  and  of  all  that  the  Christians  had 
possessed  in  tlie  Holy  Land  nothing  now  remained  to  them  but  a  few 

f)etty  towns  upon  the  coast.    So  soon  and  so  easily  was  that  territory 
ost  which  it  had  cost  the  warrior-hosts  of  Christendom  so  much  blood, 
treasure  and  time  to  conquer  from  the  infidels  of  an  earlier  generation. 

A.  n.  1188. — The  intelligence  of  this  triumph  of  the  crescent  produced  a 
general  and  profound  grief  in  Europe.  Pope  Urban  HL  actually  suikened 
and  died  from  sorrow  at  the  calamity,  and  his  successor,  Gregory  VHI.. 
bestowed  nearly  all  his  attention  during  his  short  reign  upon  the  neccs 
sary  preparations  for  attempting,  at  the  least,  the  re-conquest  of  tht 
holy  city. 

Henry  of  England  and  Philip  of  France,  as  by  far  the  most  powerful 
monarcihs  in  Europe,  were  naturally  appealed  to  by  Rome,  and  William 
archbishop  of  Tyre,  caused  them  to  have  a  meeting  at  Gisors.  His  des- 
cription of  the  sufferings  of  the  Christians  in  the  East,  and  his  eloquent 
appeal  to  the  love  of  military  glory,  which,  after  superstition,  was  the 
most  powerful  passion  of  both  monarchs  and  private  men  in  that  age,  so 
wrought  upon  both  princes,  that  they  at  once  assumed  the  cross  and  com- 
menced the  necessary  preparations. 

A.  D.  1189. — As  the  clergy,  notwithstanding  the  zeal  of  the  papal  court, 
did  not  show  their  usual  alacrity  in  aiding  the  new  enterprize  either  with 
money  or  eloquence,  some  delay  and  difficulty  were  experienced  by  both 
kings  in  obtaining  the  necessary  supplies,  and  in  the  meantime  new  quar- 
rels sprang  up  between  them.  Philip,  always  jealous  of  Henry's  supe- 
riority, found  that  king's  son,  Prince  Richard,  fully  as  credulous  and  as 
prone  to  disloyal  and  undutiful  conduct  as  his  deceased  brother  Henry  had 
been ;  and  he  had  no  difficulty  in  persuading  him  that  he  was  more  inter- 
ested in  the  welfare  of  France  than  in  that  of  the  kingdom  over  which  he 
was  one  day  to  rule.  In  a  few  words,  Richard  was  the  credulous  and 
hot-headed  dupe,  and  Philip  the  resolved  and  wily  deceiver.  Philip,  de- 
sirous of  a  cause  for  quarrel  with  Henry,  and  yet  unwilling  to  incur  the 
disgrace  v/hich  could  not  but  attach  to  one  crusader  who  should  without 
strong  provocation  make  war  upon  another  while  Palestine  yet  groap-e'l 
beneath  the  yoke  of  the  proud  ami  bigoted  pagan,  persuaded  Richard  to 
furnish  him  with  a  pretext  for  war  by  making  an  inroad  upon  Toulouse. 
As  Philip  had  foreseen,  Raymond,  count  of  Toulouse,  appealed  to  him  foi 
support  as  superior  lord ;  and  with  as  much  gravity  as  though  he  had  then 
first  heard  of  Richard's  achievement,  Philip  complained  to  the  king  of 
England  of  his  son's  infringement  upon  the  rights  and  property  of  a  vassal 
of  the  crown  of  France.  But  Richard,  if  wicked  or  thoughtless  enough 
to  undertake  the  evil  measures  against  his  own  sovereign  and  father,  was 
not  prudent  enough  to  keep  his  own  counsel;  and  Henry  was  able  to 
reply  to  the  hypocritical  complaint  of  Philip,  that  Prince  Richard  had  con- 


832 


THE  TREASUEY  OF  HI8TOEY. 


esied  to  the  archbishop  of  Dublin  that  it  was  at  the  express  desire  ahd 
personal  suggestion  of  Philip  himself  that  he  had  made  his  unprovoked 
attack  upon  the  county  of  Toulouse.  Far  from  being  either  ashamed  or 
dismayed  by  this  discovery  of  his  treacherous  designs,  Philip,  on  receiv- 
ing Henry's  reply,  immediately  invaded  Berri  and  Auvergne,  and  did  so 
under  the  pretence  of  retaliating  the  injury  to  the  count  of  Toulouse,  which 
it  was  so  well  known  that  he  had  himself  caused  to  be  done.  Henry, 
now  thoroughly  provoked  as  Philip  himself  could  have  desired  him  to  be, 
crossed  the  French  frontier,  and,  besides  doing  much  other  damage, 
burned  the  town  and  fortress  of  Dreux.  After  much  mutual  injury  and  a 
futile  attempt  at  treaty,  the  two  kings  were  at  length  induced  once  more, 
but  in  vain,  to  attempt  to  come  to  terms ;  chiefly,  however,  as  far  as 
Philip  was  concerned,  by  the  refusal  of  some  of  his  most  powerful  vassals 
to  serve  any  longer  against  Henry,  whom,  as  well  as  their  own  sovereign, 
they  desired  to  see  combating  for  the  redemption  of  Palestine.  On 
Henry's  side  the  feeling  was  as  much  more  sincere  as  it  was  less  com- 
pulsory ;  but  the  terms  proposed  by  Philip  were  so  insidiously  calculated 
to  work  future  evil  to  England,  that  Henry  had  no  choice  but  to  refuse 
them.  For,  well  aware  as  he  was  of  the  mischief  which  had  accrued  to 
Henry  in  consequence  of  his  having  consented  to  the  coronation  of  his 
former  heir,  he  demanded  that  the  same  honour  should  now  be  bestowed 
upon  Richard,  and  with  this  aggravation,  that  whereas  Richard  in  the  very 
act  which  had  produced  this  war  had  shown  how  ready  he  was  to  do 
?nght  that  would  injure  and  annoy  his  father,  Philip  demanded  his  being 
pui  into  immediate  possession  of  all  the  French  possessions  of  his  father, 
and  that  his  nuptials  should  forthwith  be  celebrated  with  Alice,  Philip's 
sister.  In  full  expectation,  as  it  should  seem,  that  Henry's  good  sense 
would  dictate  this  refusal,  Philip  had  caused  Richard  to  agree  that  on  re- 
ceiving such  a  refusal  he  would  immediately  disclaim  further  allegiance, 
and  do  homage  to  Philip  for  all  the  Anglo-French  possessions,  as  though 
he  had  already  and  lawfully  been  invested  with  them. 

The  war  accordingly  recommenced  as  furiously  as  ever  between  the 
two  kings ;  and  Cardmal  Albano,  the  Pope's  legate,  despairing  of  ever 
seeing  the  two  powerful  monarchs  arrayed  side  by  side  against  the  In- 
fidels while  these  quarrels  existed  between  them,  and  looking  upon  the 
unnatural  conduct  of  Richard  as  a  chief  cause  of  them,  pronounced  sen- 
tence of  excommunication  against  him.  The  sentence  fell  innocuously 
on  his  head,  owing  to  the  lukewarmness  of  the  clergy,  and  Richard  hav- 
ing formally  received  from  Philip  the  investiture  of  Guienne,  Normandy, 
and  Anjou,  the  nobles  of  those  provinces  sided  with  him  in  spite  of  the 
declared  will  of  Rome,  and  overran  the  territories  of  all  who  still  main- 
tained the  cause  of  the  king  of  England. 

At  Henry's  request,  Cardinal  Adagni,  who  had  succeeded  Albano  as 
legate,  threatened  Philip  with  an  interdict  upon  his  dominions ;  but  Philip 
scornfully  replied,  that  it  was  no  part  of  the  papal  duty  to  interfere  in 
the  temporal  quarrels  of  princes ;  and  Richard,  who  was  present  at  the 
interview,  went  so  far  as  to  draw  his  sword  upon  the  cardinal,  and  tvaa 
not  without  difficulty  withheld  from  proceeding  to  still  more  outrageous 
and  criminal  lengths. 

Mans,  Amboise,  Chateau  de  Loire,  and  several  other  places  were  sue 
cessively  taken  by  Philip  and  Richard,  or  treacherously  delivered  to  them 
by  their  governors.  In  this  state  of  the  war,  when  everything  seemed 
lo  threaten  Henry  with  ruin,  the  archbishop  of  Rheims,  the  duke  of 
nurgundy,  and  the  earl  of  Flanders  stepped  forward  as  mediators.  In- 
telligence at  the  same  time  reached  Henry  that  Tours,  long  menaced, 
was  at  length  taken;  and,  hard  as  were  the  terms  proposed,  he 
saw  nothing  left  for  him  but  to  agree  to  them.  And  hard  those  terms 
indeed  were  to  a  prince  who  hitherto  had  been  so  much  accustomed  to 


THE  TRBASUa^   OP  HISTORY. 


833 


sue 
them 
emed 
ie  of 
In- 
laced, 
he 
terms 
ed  to 


dictate  terms  to  others.  He  consented  to  the  immediate  marriage  of 
Richard  and  Alice — thoui^h  some  historians  relate  that  he  was  himself 
enamoured  of  that  princess — and  should  receivo  homajfe  and  fealty,  .lot 
only  for  the  Anglo-French  dominions,  hut  also  for  Kngland  itself;  that 
the  king  of  France  should  receive  twenty  thousand  marks  to  defray  his 
expenses  in  this  war;  that  the  barons  ol  EnRJand  should  be  sncnrity  for 
ITenry's  due  perform:»»^  ?e  of  his  part  in  tiiis  treaty,  and  should  undertake 
to  join  their  forces  v.  .m  those  of  Richard  and  the  king  of  France  in  the 
event  of  his  breaking  his  engagement,  and  that  all  and  sundry  his  vassals 
who  had  sided  with  his  son  should  be  held  harmless. 

If  the  last-mentioned  clause  was  in  itself  calculated  to  wound  the  feel- 
ings of  so  proud  a  prince  as  Henry,  it  led  to  his  being  wounded  in  a  feel- 
ing far  deeper  than  pride ;  for,  on  his  demanding  a  list  of  those  whom  he 
was  thus  engaged  to  pardon,  the  very  first  name  that  met  his  eye  was 
that  of  his  favourite  son.  Prince  John,  on  whom  he  had  conferred  kind- 
ness even  to  the  extent  of  arousing  the  anger  and  jealousy  of  the  passion- 
ate Richard. 

Though  proud  and  bold,  Henry  was  a  singularly  affectionate  parent ;  he 
had  already  suffered  much  sorrow  from  the  unnatural  conduct  of  his  sons, 
and  this  new  proof  of  the  utter  callousness  of  heart  of  the  best  beloved 
and  most  trusted  of  them  was  a  blow  too  severe  for  his  declining  strength. 
He  sickened  on  the  instant,  and  bestowed  upon  his  ingrate  and  heartless 
children  a  solemn  curse,  which  no  entreaties  of  the  friends  who  were 
about  him  could  induce  him  to  recal.  As  he  reflected  upon  the  barbarity 
of  his  children,  his  chagrin  increased  instead  of  diminishing,  and  a  low 
nervous  fever  soon  after  deprived  him  of  life,  which  happened  on  the  6th 
of  July,  in  the  fifty-eighth  year  of  his  age  and  thirty-fifth  of  his  reign. 
His  corpse  was  conveyed  to  Fontevraud  by  his  natural  son  Geoffrey, 
who  had  ever  behaved  to  him  with  the  tenderness  and  duty  so  fearfully 
wanting  in  the  conduct  of  his  legitimate  children.  While  the  royal 
corpse  lay  in  state  at  Fontevraud,  Prince  Richard  visited  the  sad  scene, 
and  exhibited  a  sorrow  sincere  and  passionate  as  it  was  tardy  and  useless. 

Taken  altogether,  the  reign  of  Henry  II.  was  both  a  prosperous  and  a 
brilliant  one  ;  and  it  seems  probable  that  had  not  the  cruel  misconduct  of 
his  sons  engaged  him  in  war  when  he  fain  would  have  been  at  peace,  he 
would  have  done  still  more  than  he  did  towards  providing  for  the  internal 
welfare  of  his  kingdom.  What  he  did  towards  that  end,  if  it  appear  of  too 
stern  and  cruel  a  nature  to  us  who  live  in  times  so  much  milder  and  more 
civilized,  seems  to  be  but  too  completely  justified  by  what  the  historians 
tell  us  of  the  gross  and  evil  daring  of  the  populace  of  those  early  days. 
In  the  cities  especially,  where  the  congregating  of  numbers  had  given  in- 
creased daring  to  offenders,  but  had  not  as  yet  led  to  any  safe  and  sound 
arrangements  of  police,  the  insolent  violence  of  the  populace  attained  to 
a  height  of  which  we  can  form  but  a  very  faint  notion.  Street  brawls 
and-street  robberies,  attended  with  violence  always  and  not  unfrequently 
with  actual  murder,  were  every-day  occurrences.  Burglary  was  not  then 
as  now  confined  to  the  darkness  and  security  of  the  night-hours,  but 
even  the  wealthiest  traders,  though  their  shops  were  situated  in  the  most 
public  streets,  had  constant  reason  to  fear  assault  and  robbery  even  at 
noonday,  so  bold  and  strong  were  the  gangs  of  thieves.  A  single  speci- 
men of  the  doings  of  the  street  robbers  of  those  times  may  not  be  unac- 
ceptable. The  house  of  a  citizen  of  known  and  large  wealth  was  at- 
tacked by  a  band  of  robbers  who  actually  plied  their  wedges  and  axes  so 
effectually  as  to  make  a  breach  in  a  substantial  stone  wall.  Just  as, 
sword  in  hand,  they  were  making  good  their  entrance,  the  citizen  led  on 
his  servants  to  resist  them,  and  so  stoutly  defended  his  premises  that  his 
neighbours  had  time  to  arm  and  assist  him.  In  the  course  of  the  fight, 
ivhich,  though  short,  seem  to  have  been  severe,  one  of  the  robbers  had 


231 


THK  THEA8URY  OF  HI8T0EY. 


his  ri<[ht  li;inil  ciil  nfT.  TIiIh  mini  was  Huhsoqucntly  taken  prisjner,  aiiU 
H8  the  luHM  liu  liad  MUMtaiiied  TviuWred  M  doiiiai  of  hJH  identity  perfectly 
idle,  he  agreed,  in  urdor  to  hhvi>  his  own  hfe,  to  give  full  information  of 
ail  wlio  were  concerned  with  him.  Among  the  accomplices  thus  named 
was  a  very  wealthy  citizen,  who  up  to  that  time  had  been  looked  upon  u« 
a  person  of  the  greatest  probity.  Denying  the  charge,  he  was  tried  by 
the  ordeal  and  convicted.  He  then  ofTered  the  large  sum  of  five  hundred 
marks  in  commutation  of  his  ofTcncc;  but  the  king,  rightly  Judging  that 
the  rank  and  wealth  of  the  olTeiider  only  made  the  offence  the  more 
shameful  and  unpardonable,  sternly  refused  the  money  and  ordered  the 
citizen  felon  to  bo  hanged. 

Unlike  the  other  Norman  princes,  Henry  II.  was  not  so  attached  to 
his  game  sis  to  hold  the  lives  of  his  subjects  in  utter  contempt  on  its  ac- 
count. He  greatly  moderated  the  forett  laws,  which  under  liis  predeces* 
sors  had  been  so  fruitful  a  source  of  misery  to  the  people,  and  punished 
infringements  upon  them,  not  by  death  or  mutilation,  but  by  fine  or  im- 
prisonment. 

Though  generally  of  a  grave  and  dignified  habit,  this  king  was  not  des* 
titute  of  a  certain  dry  humour.  Thus  Giraldus  Cambrensis  relates  that 
the  prior  and  monks  of  the  monastery  of  St.  Swithin  made  grievous  com- 
plaint to  Henry  of  the  rigour  with  which,  as  they  alledged,  they  had 
been  treated  by  the  bishop  of  Winchester  in  the  ordering  of  their  diet. 
"  We  have  but  ten  dishes  allowed  us  now !"  they  exclaimed.  "  But  ten !" 
said  the  king,  "  I  have  but  three !  'Tis  the  fitter  number,  rely  upon  it , 
and  I  desire  that  you  be  confined  to  it  henceforth." 

Henry  was  survived  by  two  legitimate  sons,  Richard  and  John,  and 
three  legitimate  daughters,  Maud,  Eleanor,  and  Joan.  He  also  left  two 
illegitimate  sons,  Richard,  surnamed  Longsword,  and  Geoffrey,  who  be 
came  archbishop  of  York.  These  sons  were  born  to  him  by  Rosamond 
daughter  of  Lord  Cliflford.  Of  all  that  romance,  whether  in  its  own 
guise  or  in  that  of  historjr,  has  said  of  this  lady,  nothing  seems  to  be  true 
save  that  she  was  both  fair  and  frail.  Her  bower  at  Woodstock,  and  the 
pleasant  choice  offered  to  her  by  the  jealous  Queen  Eleanor,  between  the 
dagger  and  the  poisoned  chalice,  are  mere  inventions. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


THE    REIGN    OF    RICHARD    I. 


A.  D.  1189. — Thb  partiality  with  which,  even  down  to  the  present  time, 
the  character  of  Richard  I.  has  been  looked  upon,  is  a  striking  proof  how 
far  men  can  go  in  dispensing  with  other  good  q'jalities,  in  favour  of  him 
who  is  abundantly  endowed  with  the  mere  animal  quality  of  courage. 
The  shameful  ingratitude,  amounting  to  actual  barbarity,  with  which  this 
prince  treated  his  only  too-indulgent  father,  and  even  the  hot-headed  self- 
ishness with  which  he  preferred  warring  abroad  to  beneficially  and  usefully 
ruling  at  home,  and  made  his  realm  a  mere  depot  for  the  men  and  muni- 
tions requisite  to  the  prosecution  of  his  schemes  of  military  ambition,  are 
overlooked  in  consideration  of  his  reckless  daring  and  great  exploits  in 
the  battle-field.  Until  men  are  much  better  taught  than  they  have  ever 
yet  been  as  to  the  real  value  of  courage  and  the  precise  limits  within  which 
its  exercise  is  deserving  of  the  homage  now  so  indiscriminately  paid  to  ii, 
grave  and  thoughtful  writers  will,  we  fear,  labour  but  vainly  towards 
causing  the  reality  of  Richard's  character  to  become  visible  through  the 
false  but  gorgeous  halo  with  which  the  error  of  long  centuries  has  sur- 
rounded it.  With  this  brief  caution  against  too  implicit  a  faith  in  the  co- 
existence of  virtue  and  courage,  we  proceed  to  the  reign  of  the  most  war- 


TUB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


2M 


like  o''nll  orcvfn  Kn(r|Hii(l'(i  king^it  whose  eiinally  iinpetuoui  and  enduring 
hravfry  obtained  for  liiiii  from  tliu  most  w  irl  " 
Utl»!  of  •'  Caur  de  Lion,"  "  llie  lion  licarl(Ml. 


ku  inun  of  a  warlike  ugu  the 


nt  time, 
oof  how 
of  him 
ourage. 
iich  this 
ed  self- 
sefully 
muni- 
tion, are 
)loit8  in 
ve  evtv 
n  which 
aid  to  it, 
towards 
ugh  the 
has  8ur- 
the  co- 
ost  war- 


Tliu  flrHt  act  of  Hichard's  rvign  gave  nuiiw  promise  of  a  wise  and  iust 
one-     Instead  of  taking  into  favour  Hiid  eniploymeiit  tlio8u  who  hud  au 
shamefully  aided  him  in  his  uiidutiful  and  disloyal  conduct,  hu  treated 
.hrni  with  marked  disfavour,  and  contrariwise  retained  in  their  empU»y» 
ments  those  ministers  who  had  been  the  faithful  and  zealous  advisers  of 
his  father.    He  released  his  mother,  Queon  Kleanor,  from  the  confineineitt 
,n  wiiich  she  reinaiiuid  at  the  death  of  Henry,  and  committed  the  regency 
of  Kngland  to  her  till  Ite  should  arrive  to  govern  it  in  person.     To  his 
brother  John,  too,  he  showed  the  beginning  of  that  favour  which  he  con- 
tinued to  him  throughout  his  reign,  and  of  which  John  conliiuiully  and 
flagrantly  proved  his  unworthiness.     The  day  of  Hichard's  coronation  was 
marked  by  an  event  which  showed  llie  intolerance  of  the  age  to  be  fully 
equal  to  and  every  way  worthy  of  its  superstition.     The  Jews,  every- 
where a  proscribed  people,  were,  however,  everywhere  an  industrious 
and  of  course  a  prosperous  and  wealthy  people,     tieiiig  the  lar^jtst  pos- 
sessors of  ready  money,  they  naturally  engrossed  the  invidious,  though 
often  important,  trade  of  money-lending;   and  when  wo  consider  the 
usage  which  the  Jews  too  commonly  received  at  the  hands  of  Christians, 
and  add  to  that  the  frequent  losses  they  sustained,  we  need  scarcely  be 
surprised  that  they  sometimes  charged  enormous  interest,  and  treated 
their  insolvent  debtors  with  a  rigour  t>.at  almost  frees  Shakspeare  from 
the  charge  of  caricaturing  in  his  terribly  graphic  character  of  Shylock. 
The  necessities  that  ever  wait  upon  unthrift  made  too  many  of  the  high- 
born and  the  powerful  personally  acquainted  with  the  usurious  propen- 
sities of  the  Israelites  ;  and  thus  added  personal  feelings  of  animosity  to 
the  hate  borne  by  the  zealous  Christians — alas!  what  a  Christianity  was 
theirs  ! — against  the  Jews.     During  the  reign  of  Henry  II.  the  animositiea 
which  were  nourished  against  the  Jews  were  not  openly  expressed ;  but 
Richard,  who  combined  in  his  own  person  much  of  the  evil  m  well  as  of 
the  good  that  distinguished  his  stirring  and  bigoted  time,  had  an  especial 
hatred  to  Jews,  and  he  gave  orders  that  on  the  day  of  his  coronation  they 
should  on  no  account  make  their  appearance  at  the  scene  of  that  cere- 
mony.    Some  of  them,  judging  that  their  gold,  ut  least,  would  obtain  them 
exception  from  this  rule,  ventured  to  wait  upon  him  with  presents  of  great 
value.     Having  approached  the  banqueting  hall  of  the  king,  they  were 
soon  discovered  by  the  crowd  and  of  course  insulted.     From  words  the 
rabble  proceeded  to  blows  ;  the  Jews  became  terrified,  fled,  and  were  pur- 
sued ;  and,  either  in  error  or  malignitjr,  a  report  was  spread  that  the  king 
had  ordered  the  general  destruction  of  the  Jews.     Orders  so  agreeable  at 
once  to  the  bigotry  and  the  licentiousness  of  such  a  populace  as  that  of 
Lo.idon,  were  believed  without  much  scruple  and  executed  without  any 
remorse.     Not  contented  with  murdering  all  the  Jews  who  were  to  be 
found  in  the  streets,  the  rabble  broke  into  and  first  plundered  and  then 
burned  the  houses  of  the  wealthy  individuals  of  that  persecuted  sect,  who, 
driven   to  desperation,  defended   themselves  bravely   but  ineffectually. 
From  London  the  fierce  cry  against  the  Jews,  and  the  false  cry  that  the 
king  had  authorized  their  destruction,  spread  to  tlie  other  irreat  towns, 
where  the  unhappy  peoi)le  were  equally  plundered  and  slaugiitercd  as  in 
London.     At  York,  in  addition  to  liie  murders  committed  by  the  popu- 
lace, a    truly  horrible     tragedy  took    place.       Upwards  of    five   hun- 
dred of  the  Jews  shut  themselves  up  in  the  castle  with  their  fairilies. 
Finding  that  they  could  not  much  longer  defend  themselves  against  the 
infuriated  and  blood-stained  rabble  without,  the  men  of  this  unhappy  and 
persecuted  band  actually  killed  their  own  wives  and  children  and  threw 
Ibeir  corpses  over  the  walls,  and  then,  setting  fire  to  the  place,  chose 


S3tf 


THK  TRKASURY  OF  HISTORY 


rathf r  to  nerinh  in  the  tortiinii  of  the  flHmns  than  in  thoM  which  th>y 
kn«'w  would  Im  ndjuilaeil  to  them  hy  their  enrngod  ttiiil  bigoted  enemie*. 
AsllioiiKh  thiit  horrilile  triiK«'<'y  hacf  not  mifflcinitly  iliHKriicrd  the  niition 
the  geniry  of  Y(»rk,  inoHt  of  whom  were  deeply  indebted  lo  the  unhappy 
Jowh,  adtled  h  I'hariicterislie  trail  of  sordid  diahonesly  to  the  {general  horror, 
hy  ninkiiig  before  the  altar  of  the  cathedral  a  nolcmn  burnt  aaeriflcn  of  the 
bonds  ill  wliieh  they  were  coiifesucd  deblom.  The  detestation  with  which 
we  are  inspired  by  this  whole  afTuir  almost  makes  us  add  without  regret 
or  pity,  that  long  after  the  Jews  were  all  elthei  masssiered  or  e(ica|)ed,  the 
plundering  of  the  rabble  went  on  with  equal  zeal  in  the  hoiisf's  of  men 
who  were  not  Jews,  uiid  who  indignantly  impressed  that  fnet  upon  the 
minds  of  the  plunderers.  Though  the  known  hntred  which  the  king  bore 
to  the  Jews  was  doubtless  influential  in  encouraging  the  rabble  to  exeesi 
on  this  occasion,  it  is  certain  that  he  gave  no  direct  orders  or  encowr* 
agemeiit  to  them.  On  the  contrary,  as  soon  as  actual  force  hud  restored 
comparative  order  in  the  country,  Richard  commissioned  his  chief  Justi- 
ciary, the  celebrated  Glanville,  to  make  the  necessary  inquiries  and  to 
punish  as  many  as  could  be  discovered  of  the  original  instigators  of  these 
detestable  enormities.  But  even  partial  inquiry  showed  that  the  rabble 
were,  with  all  thcur  violence  and  grossiu'iis,  by  no  means  the  most  blame- 
worthy  party  upon  this  occasion,  and  so  many  powerful  and  wealthy  men 
were  found  to  be  deeply  implicated,  that,  after  the  punishment  of  a  very 
few  persons,  to  vindicate  the  laws  from  the  reproach  of  complete  inem- 
ciency,  the  inquiry  was  wholly  laid  aside. 

Scarcely  had  Richard  finished  the  ceremony  of  his  coronation  ere  ho 
commenced  his  preparations  for  an  expedition  to  Palestine.  The  distance 
uf  that  country  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  rely  upon  England  to  furnish 
him  from  time  to  time  with  the  requisite  supplies;  his  first  care,  therefore, 
was  to  provide  himself  with  such  an  amount  of  money  as  would  place 
him  above  any  danger  from  want  of  means  to  provision  his  followers. 
His  father  had  left  him  above  a  hundred  thousand  marks — a  very  large 
sum  in  that  age — and,  to  add  to  that  important  treasure,  the  king  resorted 
to  the  sale  not  only  of  the  manors  and  revenues  of  the  crown,  but  even  of 
many  offices,  the  nature  of  which  rendered  it  especially  important  that 
they  should  be  held  by  pure  hands.  The  office  of  sheriff,  which  con- 
cerned both  the  administration  of  justice  and  the  crown  revenue,  was  thus 
sold,  as  was  the  scarce  less  important  office  of  forester;  and  at  length,  as 
if  to  show  that  all  considerations  were  trivial,  in  his  judgment,  when 
compared  to  that  of  forwarding  his  favourite  scheme,  Richa^  openly  and 
shamefully  sold  the  high  office  of  chief  justiciary — that  office  upon  which 
the  liberties  and  properties  of  the  whole  nation  were  to  a  very  considerable 
extent  dependant,  to  Hugh  de  Puzas,  bishop  of  Durham,  for  a  thousand 
marks,  this  prelate  being  also,  "  for  a  consideration,  invested  for  his  own 
life  with  the  earldom  of  Northumberland.*'  Completely  reckless  how  he 
obtained  money,  and  really  seeming  to  have  no  single  thought  to  bestow 
upon  his  country,  except  as  a  source  of  money,  he  next  sold  back  to  the 
king  of  Scotland  the  Scottish  fortresses  which  his  wiser  father  had  so 
carefully  guarded,  and  released  WiUiam  from  all  sign  of  vassalage  beyond 
the  ordinary  homage  for  lands  held  by  him  in  England,  the  price  of  all 
this  advantage  on  the  one  side  and  disgraceful  sacrifice  on  the  other  being 
ten  thousand  marks. 

Besides  selling  in  this  reckless  way  much  in  which  he  justly  and  le- 
gally held  only  a  mere  life-interest,  he  wearied  all  ranks  of  his  subjects 
for  loans  or  gifts ;  the  distinction  in  words  being,  it  will  easily  be  believed, 
the  only  distinction  between  the  two  ways  of  parting  with  their  money ! 
The  utmost  having  been  done  to  raise  money  in  these  discreditable  ways, 
Richard  next  applied  htmsoif  to  selling  permission  to  remain  at  home  to 
those  who,  after  having  taken  the  cross  had,  from  whatever  cause,  b^ 


TMR  THRABORY  OF  HISTORY 


ind  le- 
ubjects 
lieved, 
[loney ! 
ways, 
ome  to 
),  b^ 


lOiiU)  Icni  onaiiuxired  of  dm  taiik  of  combating  the  InfiilflN.  To  iIwoU  no 
longer  upon  tlnt(liNt;rii(M'rul  piiKsagt'  in  our  bJNlory,  Hiflninl,  in  l>i<«  nii«it  ty 
(o  riiisu  money  to  aid  iiiin  in  lii«  niprnly  HolflNh  purnuil  of  luniu,  Hbowtid 
himself  80  r«cklt'!tN  a  mihtMinKn  llnit  bin  ministern  vunturt-d  to  rcinonotnile 
yith  him,  ami  h«,  iihiiiMoli'Naly  uxniling  in  bis  own  want  of  |)riiiri|ilt!  an<l 
vrui*  pride,  n'plimt,  ibnt  be  would  gladly  huII  bin  good  city  uf  liondon, 
could  be  but  hml  a  piircbasor. 

While  Kii'hard  vvaH  thua  mnkingsuch  great  Hacrifi(;tfN.  nominally  for  the 
Hake  of  the  ChriHlian  causu  in  Paletttine,  but  really  lor  the  naku  of  liia 
own  fierce  vanity,  of  that  peculiar  quality  to  which  men  have  Mlavislily 
agreed  to  give  the  more  sounding  name  of  love  of  glory,  his  life  and  con- 
vursHtion  were  by  no  nicaiiH  of  the  most  Christian  pattern,  and  gave  great 
otTence  to  those  crusaders  whose  piety  was  Hinceru  and  practical,  though 
occasionally  carried  to  the  extreme  of  bigotry  in  feeling  and  of  grimace 
in  manifestation.  Fulke  of  Neuilly,  a  zealous  and  elo(|uent  nrtaclier  of 
the  crusade,  preaching  before  Kichard,  boldly  assured  him  that  he  had 
three  favourite  most  dangerous  daughters  of  whom  it  behoved  him  speedily 
to  rid  himself,  namely,  pride,  avarice,  and  voiuptuouttness.  '•  You  are 
(juite  right,"  replied  Richard,  '•  and  I  hereby  give  the  first  of  them  to  tiio 
Templars,  the  second  to  the  lienedictines,  and  the  third  to  my  prelates." 

Previous  to  departing  for  the  east,  Richard  committed  the  admiiiislra- 
tion  of  the  government  in  Kiigland  to  Hii<jh,  bishop  of  Durham,  and  Iiiuig- 
cliamp,  bishop  of  Kly ;  but  though  he  at  first  swore  both  his  brother  Prince 
John  and  his  natural  brother  UeolTrey,  archbishop  of  York,  not  even  to 
enter  the  kingdom  during  his  absence,  he  subsequently  withdrew  that 
politic  prohibition.  Longchamp,  the  bishop  of  Kly,  though  of  mean  birth, 
was  a  man  of  considerable  talent  and  energy ;  and  the  better  to  enable 
him  to  govern  with  elfect,  Richard,  who  had  already  made  him  chancelloi 
of  the  kingdom,  also  procured  him  to  be  invested  with  the  authority  of 
papal  legate. 

While  Richard  and  Philip  had  been  engaged  in  preparing  for  tiieir 
eastern  expedition,  the  Emperor  Frederic  bad  already  led  from  Oonnany 
and  the  neighbouring  countries  of  the  north,  an  army  of  150,000  men,  and 
though  the  force  of  the  Infidels  and  the  intrigues  of  the  court  of  the  east- 
ern empire — which  feared  the  western  Christians  nearly  as  much  as  it 
did  the  Infidels  themselves — caused  him  both  great  delay  an  I  a  consider- 
able loss  of  men,  he  had  already  reached  the  frontiers  ot  Syria,  when, 
bathing  in  the  f^\diiuf*,  he  was  caused  so  violent  an  illness  by  the  exces- 
sive coldncj*  ot  the  water,  that  he  very  shortly  afterwards  died.  His  son 
Conrad  assmned  the  command  of  the  army,  which,  however,  reached 
Palestine  tcdHced  to  about  eight  thousand  men,  and  even  of  these  many 
were  in  a  state  of  pitiable  weakness  from  the  diseases  incident  to  tlie  c\\ 
mate  »nd  se-ason  under  which  so  many  of  their  comrades  had  perished. 

PUiiip  and  Henry  perceiving  how  much  mischief  accrued  from  the 
ciitiMig  off  of  such  immense  bodies  of  men  from  all  chance  of  succom 
from  Kurope,  resolved  to  equip  fleets,  not  only  for  the  purpose  of  carrying 
over  their  armies  and  such  stores  of  provisions  as  would  inevitably  be  re- 
quisite, but  also  to  form,  as  it  were,  aline  of  communication  with  Europe 
whether  for  supply  or  retreat. 

A.D.  1190. — And,  indeed,  when  the  forces  ,»t  Richard  and  Philip  met  on 
the  plains  of  Vezelay,  on  the  frontiers  of  Uurgundy,  men  the  least  san- 
guine in  trusting  to  human  prowess  might  have  been  pardoned  for  deem- 
ing that  that  mighty  host  must  be  invincible  by  any  power  that  the  Infidels 
could  muster  against  it.  After  all  the  necessary  and  cautious  weeding  by 
which  the  minor  leaders  had  taken  care,  as  far  as  possible,  to  have  none 
enrolled  among  their  troops  save  those  who  were  strong  of  body  and 
masters  of  their  weapons,  this  force  amounted  to  more  than  a  hundred 
thousand  men,  well  armed,  abundantly  provided  for,  and  animated  to  the 


938 


THE  TREASUay  OF  HISTORY. 


highest  possible  pitch  of  zeal  by  the  double  reeling  of  religious  ardour  ans 
military  ambition.  Richard  and  Philip  pledged  both  themselves  and  the 
other  leaders  of  this  mighty  host  to  mutual  faith  and  friendship  in  the 
field;  and  the  two  monanrhs  engaged  their  barons  and  prelates  who  re- 
mained at  home,  on  oath,  to  refrain  from  any  infringement  of  the  respec- 
tive kingdoms,  and  called  down  interdict  and  excommunication  upon  wiio- 
soever  should  break  this  solemn  engagement.  This  done,  Philip  marched 
towards  Genoa,  and  Richard  towards  Marseilles,  where,  respectively,  they 
had  rendezvoused  their  fleets.  Though  they  sailed  from  different  ports, 
they  were  both,  and  nearly  at  the  same  time,  tempest-driven  into  the 
harbour  of  Messina,  in  which  port  they  were  detained  during  the  whole 
remainder  of  the  year. 

The  adage  which  represents  a  long  confinement  on  board  ship  as  a  pe 
culiar  test  of  temper  and  touchstone  of  friendship,  applies  equally  to  all 
cases  of  very  close  companionship.  Brought  thus  long  into  daily  con- 
tact, these  young  princes,  who  were  so  well  fitted  to  have  been  friends 
under  almost  any  other  circumstances,  were  the  more  certain  to  disagree, 
from  their  mutual  possession,  in  a  very  high  degree,  of  a  haughty  deter- 
mination, ambition,  courage,  and  obstinacy ;  and  as  Philip  was  as  cool 
and  reserved  as  Richard  was  passionate  to  the  verge  of  frenzy,  and  can- 
did to  the  verge  of  absolute  folly,  their  disagreements  were  pretty  sure  to 
tend  chiefly  to  the  advantage  of  Philip. 

While  residing  at  Messina,  and  settling  some  difference  which  both 
kings,  in  some  sort,  had  with  Tancred,  the  reigning  usurper  of  Sicily, 
Richard,  extremely  jealous  of  the  intentions  of  both  prince  and  people, 
established  himself  in  a  fort  which  commanded  the  harbour.  A  quarrel 
was  the  consequence,  and  Richard's  troops  having  chastised  the  Messinese 
for  an  attack  which  he  rather  guessed  than  had  any  proof  that  they  medi- 
tated, Richard  had  the  English  flag  displayed  in  triumph  on  the  walls  ot 
the  city.  Philip,  who  had  previously  done  all  that  he  could  to  accommo- 
date matters,  justly  enough  considered  this  display  as  being  insulting  to 
him,  and  gave  orders  to  some  of  his  people  to  pull  the  standard  down. 
Richard,  on  the  other  hand,  chose  to  treat  this  order  as  a  personal  insult 
to  him,  and  immediately  sent  word  to  Philip  that  he  had  no  objection  to 
removing  the  standard  himself,  but  that  no  one  else  should  touch  it,  save 
at  mortal  risk.  Philip,  who  was  too  anxious  for  the  aid  of  Richard  when 
they  should  arrive  in  the  Holy  Land  to  be  willing  to  drive  him  to  extrem- 
ities, accepted  the  proposal  with  some  cordiality ;  but  the  quarrel,  petty  as 
it  was,  left  the  seeds  of  dislike  in  the  hearts  of  both  princes. 

A.  D.  1191. — Tancred,  the  Sicilian  usurper,  deeming  that  his  own  safety 
would  be  promoted  by  whatever  sowed  discord  between  these  two  power- 
ful princes,  was  guilty  of  a  deception  which  in  their  mutual  temper  of 
suspicion  might  have  led  even  to  fatal  consequences.  He  showed  to 
Richard  a  letter  which  he  stated  he  had  received  from  the  hands  of  the 
duke  of  Burgundy.  This  letter,  which  purported  to  be  written  by  Philip, 
required  Tancred  to  cause  his  troops  suddenly  to  fall  upon  the  English 
troops,  and  promised  that  the  French  should  aid  him  in  the  destruction  uj 
the  common  enemy.  Richard,  with  his  usual  fiery  and  unreflecting  tem- 
per, believed  this  clumsy  fiction  without  examination,  and  being  wholly 
un-ablo  to  dissemble  his  feelings,  he  at  once  told  Philip  what  he  was 
charged  withal.  Philip  flatly  denied  the  charge,  branded  the  Siciliu'i 
usurper  with  his  falsehood,  and  challenged  him  to  support  the  atrocious 
charge  he  had  made  ;  and  as  Tancred  was,  of  course,  wholly  unable  to  do 
so,  Richard  professed  to  be  completely  satisfied.  As  this  attempt  of  Tan- 
cred and  its  near  approach  to  success  had  warned  each  Philip  and  Richard 
of  the  danger  to  which  their  friendship,  so  important  to  both  their  king- 
doms and  to  the  great  cause  in  which  they  were  each  engaged,  was  per- 
petually liable  from  the  arts  of  the  enemies  of  either,  they  agreed  to  have  a 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


239 


m  safety 
power- 
mper  of 
owed  to 
of  the 
y  Philip, 
English 
uctioii  oi 
iiig  tem- 
g  wholly 
he  was 
Sicilian 
trocious 
ble  to  do 
t  of  Tan- 
Richard 
eir  king- 
was  per- 
to  have  a 


BUiemn  treaty,  in  which  every  possible  point  of  difference  should  be  so 
arranged  that  no  future  difficulty  could  arise.  But  this  very  attempt  at 
formalizing  friendship  was  itself  the  cause  of  a  dispute,  which  at  the  outset 
threatened  to  be  a  fatal  one,  inasmuch  as  the  family  honour  of  Philip  was 
very  much  concerned  in  the  matter. 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  in  his  shameful  opposition  to  his  father, 
Richard  had  constantly  expressed  the  utmost  possible  anxiety  for 
permission  to  espouse  Alice,  daughter  of  Louis,  the  late  king  of 
France,  and  the  sister  of  that  Philip  who  was  now  Richard's  fellow- 
crusader.  Alice,  who  long  resided  in  England,  was  confidently,  though 
perhaps  only  scandalously,  reported  to  have  been  engaged  in  a  criminal 
amour  with  Richard's  own  father;  and  Richard,  well  knowing  the  cur- 
ent  report  on  that  head,  was  far  indeed  from  desiring  the  alliance  which, 
iS  a  sure  means  of  annoying  his  father,  he  was  thus  perpetually  de- 
manding. Now  that  he  was  king,  he  not  only  had  no  longer  any  inten- 
lion  of  marrying  Alice,  but  had,  in  fact,  made  proposals  for  the  hand  of 
Berengaria,  daughter  of  the  king  of  Navarre,  and  was  expecting  that 
princess  to  follow  him  under  the  protection  of  his  mother.  Queen  Eleanor. 
Philip,  probably  suspecting  or  knowing  tliis  new  passion,  formally  re- 
quired that  Richard  should  espouse  Alice,  now  that  there  was  no  longer 
any  hostile  father  to  oppose  him.  But  Richard  on  this  occasion  gave 
proof  that  he  was  not  actuated  merely  by  his  constitutional  levity,  by 
bringing  forward  proof  so  clear  that  it  carried  conviction  even  to  the  un- 
willing mind  of  Philip,  that  Alice  had  actually  born  a  child  to  Richard's 
father,  the  late  king  of  England.  To  such  a  reason  for  breaking  off"  the 
engagement  no  valid  reply  could  be  made ;  and  Philip  departed  for  the 
Holy  Land,  vvhile  Richard  remained  at  Messina  to  await  the  arrival  ot 
his  mother  and  the  princess  Berengaria.  They  soon  after  arrived,  and 
Richard,  attended  by  his  bride  and  his  sister,  the  dowager  queen  of  Sicily, 
departed  for  the  Holy  Land ;  Queen  Eleanor  returning  to  England. 

Richard's  fleet  was  met  by  a  heavy  storm,  which  drove  part  of  it  upon 
the  isle  of  Cyprus,  the  prince  of  which,  Isaac,  a  despot  whose  limited 
means  and  power  did  not  prevent  him  from  assuming  all  the  state  and 
tyrannous  bearing  of  an  emperor,  threw  the  wrecked  crews  into  prison, 
instead  of  hospitably  administering  to  their  wants,  and  even  carried  his 
barbarity  so  far  as  to  prevent  the  princesses,  on  their  peril,  from  being 
sheltered  in  his  port  of  Limisso.  But  the  triumph  of  this  ill-conditioned 
tyrant  was  only  brief.  Richard,  who  soon  after  arrived,  landed  his  troops, 
beat  the  tyrant  before  Limisso,  took  that  place  by  storm,  threw  Isaac 
himself  into  prison,  and  established  new  governors  in  all  the  principal 
places  of  the  island.  A  singular  favour  was  in  the  midst  of  this  severity 
conferred  by  Richard  upon  the  defeated  and  imprisoned  tyrant.  Isaac 
complained  bitterly  of  the  degradation  of  being  loaded,  like  a  vulgar  mal- 
efactor, with  chains  of  iron  ;  his  sense  of  degradation  being  apparently 
limited  to  the  material  of  his  fetters,  and  not  extending  to  the  fact  of  his 
being  fettered  at  all.  Witii  an  indescribably  droll  courtesy,  Richard  not 
only  admitted  the  justice  of  the  complaint,  but  actually  had  a  set  of  very 
substantial  silver  fetters  made  for  Isaac's  especial  use  ! 

The  nuptials  of  Richard  and  Berengaria  were  celebrated  with  great 
pomp  at  Cyprus,  and  they  again  set  sail  towards  Palestine,  taking  with 
(hem  Isaac's  daughter,  a  beautiful  woman,  who  was  reported  to  have  made 
conquest  of  Richard's  heart.  A  strange  companion  to  be  given  to  his 
newly-married  wife  by  a  prince  professing  the  most  chivalric  feelings  ol 
old  knightiiood,  and  especially  bound,  too,  on  the  service  of  religion! 
Richard  and  his  troops  arrived  in  time  to  take  a  distingiiised  part  in  the 
long-beleagured  Acre. 

At  first  the  English  and  French  troops  and  their  kingly  leaders  acted 
most  amicably  together,  alternately  taking  the  duty  of  guarding  the 


240 


THB  TREA8UEY  OF  HI8T0EY. 


trenches  and  mounting  to  the  assault  of  the  place.  But  this  good  tiding 
between  the  two  princes  would  probably  not  have  endured  very  long, 
even  had  there  been  no  other  cause  for  their  disagreements  but  the  warlike 
superiority  of  Richard,  whose  headlong  courage  and  great  personal  strength 
made  him  conspicuous  in  every  attack.  But  to  this  latent  and  ever-rank- 
ling cause  of  quarrel  others  wore  ."ipeedily  added. 

The  first  dispute  that  arose  between  the  two  kings  to  call  into  open 
ight  the  real  feelings  which  policy  or  courtesy  had  previously  enabled 
them  to  veil,  originated  in  the  claims  of  Guv  de  Lusignan,  and  Conrade, 
marquis  of  Montferrat,  to  the  more  showy  than  profitable  title  of  king  of 
Jerusalem.    De  Lusignan  sought  and  obtained  the  advocacy  of  Richard, 
and  Philip  ipso  facto  was  induced  to  give  the  most  strenuous  support  to  Con- 
rade.    Nor  did  the  evil  rest  with  giving  the  two  monarchs  a  cause  of  open 
and  zealous  opposition  to  each  other.    Their  example  was  naturally  fol- 
lowed by  the  other  Christian  leaders.    The  knights  of  the  hospital  of  St. 
John,  the  Pisans,  and  Flemings,  gave  their  voices  and  support  to  the  side 
embraced  by  Richard,  while  the  Templars,  the  Germans,  and  the  Genoese, 
gave  theirs  to  Philip ;  and  thus,  while  every  circumetance  of  interest  and 
duty  demanded  the  most  cordial  and  unwavering  unanimity  among  the 
Christian  princes  and  leaders,  their  camp  was  divided  into  two  fierce  parties, 
almost  as  ready  to  turn  their  arms  upon  each  other  as  upon  the  infidels. 
The  distressed  condition  to  which  the  infidels  were  already  reduced, 
nowever,  did  not  allow  of  their  profiting,  as  they  otherwise  might  have  done, 
by  the  Christian  dissensions ;  and  they  surrendered  the  long-contested 
city,  stipulating  for  the  sparing  of  their  lives,  and  agreeing,  in  return,  to 
give  up  all  the  Christian  prisoners,  and  the  true  Cross.     The  joy  of  the 
Christian  powers  of  Europe  at  this  long-desired  triumph  was  so  rapturous 
as  to  make  them  unmindful  of  the  fact,  that,  setting  almost  incalcu- 
lable treasure  wholly  out  of  consideration,  this  result  had  in  the  course 
of  a  few  years  cost  Christendom  at  least  three  hundred  thousand  of  her 
bravest  lives. 

After  the  surrender  of  Acre,  Philip,  disgusted  probably  at  finding  him- 
self cast  so  much  in  the  shade  in  a  scene  in  which,  and  in  which  only, 
Richard  was  so  well  calculated  to  outshine  him,  departed  for  Europe  on 
the  ground  that  the  safety  of  his  dominions  would  not  allow  of  his  remain- 
ing to  take  a  part  in  what  promised  lo  be  the  very  slow  and  difficult  re- 
capture of  Jerusalem,  which  it  was  only  reasonable  to  suppose  would  be 
still  more  obstinately  defended  and  more  dearly  purchased  than  Acre  had 
been.  But  though  on  the  plea  that  the  weal  of  his  kingdom  and  the  state 
of  his  own  health  would  not  allow  of  his  own  longer  presence,  he  guarded 
himself  against  the  imputation  of  being  wholly  indifferent  to  the  Christian 
cause,  by  leaving  ten  thousand  of  his  best  troops  to  Richard,  under  the 
command  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  And  in  order  to  allay  the  very  natural 
suspicions  of  Richard,  lest  he  should  make  use  of  his  presence  in  Europe 
to  do  any  wrong  to  the  English  power,  he  solemnly  made  oath  that  he 
would,  on  no  pretence,  make  any  attempt  on  the  English  dominions  during 
Richard's  absence.  But,  so  lightly  were  oaths  held  even  by  the  highly 
born  and  the  enlightened  of  that  day,  that  scarcely  had  Philp  landed  in 
Italy  ere  he  had  the  mingled  hardihood  and  meanness  to  apply  lo  Pope 
Celestine  V.  to  absolve  him  from  his  oath.  The  pope,  more  just,  refused 
to  grant  it ;  but  though  Philip  was  thus  prevented  from  the  open  hostility 
which  he  had  most  dishonourably  planned,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  avail  him- 
self to  the  utmost  of  every  means  to  work  evil  to  Richard,  and  oppor- 
tunity was  abundantly  afforded  him  by  the  conduct  of  the  unorrateful  and 
disloyal  John,  and  the  discord  that  reigned  among  the  English  nobility, 
almost  without  an  exception  of  any  note. 

It  has  already  been  mentioned  that  Richard  on  his  departure  for  the 
Holy  Land  had  delegated  the  chief  authority  in  England  to  Hugh,  bishop 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


•Ut 


for  the 
h,  bishop 


df  Durham  and  earl  of  Northumberland,  and  Longchamp,  bishop  of  Ely. 
The  latter  was  not  only  far  superior  to  his  colleague  in  point  of  capacity 
and  experience  in  the  arts  of  intrigue,  but  was  also  possessed  of  an  auda- 
cious and  violent  spirit  little  becoming  the  churchman.  The  king  had  not 
long  left  England  ere  the  domineering  spirit  of  Longchamp  began  to  man- 
ifest itself,  not  only  towards  the  nobility  in  general,  but  also  towards  his 
milder  colleague  in  the  government.  Having,  in  addition  to  his  equality 
of  civil  authority,  the  legatine  power,  then  so  very  tremendous  as  not  easily 
to  be  resisted  even  by  a  powerful  and  wise  king  in  his  own  proper  person, 
Longchamp  could  not  endure  to  treat  the  meeker  bishop  of  Durham  as 
anything  more  than  his  first  subject.  At  first  he  manifested  his  feeling  ol 
superiority  by  petty  means,  which  were  rather  annoying  than  positively 
hostile  or  injurious ;  but  finding  himself  unresisted,  he  grew  more  and 
more  violent,  and  at  length  went  to  the  glaringly  inconsistent  length  of 
throwing  his  colleague  in  the  government  into  confinement,  and  demand- 
ing of  him  the  surrender  of  the  earldom  of  Northumberland  which  he  had 
paid  for  in  solid  cash.  This  took  place  before  the  king  hp.d  departed  from 
Marseilles  on  his  way  to  the  east ;  and  though  immediately  on  Richard 
hearing  of  the  dissension  between  the  two  prelates  upon  whose  wisdom 
and  perfect  accord  he  so  mainly  depended  for  the  peace  and  safety  of  his 
dominions,  he  sent  peremptory  orders  for  the  earl-bishop's  release,  Long- 
champ had  the  consummate  assurance  to  refuse  to  obey  the  king's  com- 
mand, assuring  the  astounded  nobles  that  he  knew  that  the  king's  secret 
wishes  were  directly  opposed  to  his  public  orders ! 

This  misconduct  was  followed  up  by  so  much  insolence  towards  the 
nobility  in  general,  and  so  many  complaints  were  in  consequence  made  to 
Richard,  that  he  appointed  a  numerous  council  of  nohlcH  without  whose 
concurrence  Longchamp  for  the  future  was  strictly  foroiuucn  to  transact 
any  important  public  business.  But  his  vast  authority  as  legate,  added  to 
hip  daring  and  peremptory  temper,  deterred  even  those  named  as  his  coun 
cillors  from  venturing  to  produce  their  commission  to  him,  and  he  contin- 
ued to  display  .the  magnificence  and  to  exercise  the  power  of  an  absolute 
sovereign  of  the  realm. 

The  great  abbots  of  the  wealthy  monasteries  complained  that  when  he 
made  a  progress  in  their  neighbourhood,  his  train  in  a  single  day's  residence 
devoured  their  revenue  for  years  to  come  ;  the  high-born  and  martial  barons 
complained  of  the  more  than  kingly  hauteur  of  this  low-born  man ;  th« 
whole  nation,  in  short,  was  discontented,  but  the  first  open  and  efHcient 
opposition  was  made  by  one  whose  personal  characteristic  was  certainly 
not  too  great  courage — the  prince  John. 

That  the  bishop  and  legate  misused  his  authority,  to  the  insulting  of 
the  nobility  and  the  impoverisment  of  the  nation,  would  not  a  jot  have 
moved  John,  but  he  could  not  endure  that  he  too,  should  be  thrown  into 
shade  and  contempt  by  this  overbearing  prelate.  The  latter,  with  a  want 
of  policy  strangely  at  variance  with  his  undoubted  ability,  imprudently 
allowed  himself  to  be  guilty  of  personally  disobliging  John,  who,  upon 
that  aflfront,  conceived  an  indignation  which  all  the  disobedience  shown  to 
his  brother,  and  all  the  injury  inflicted  upon  his  brother's  best' and  most 
faithful  subjects,  had  been  insufficient  to  arouse.  He  summoned  a  coun- 
cil of  prelates  ahd  nobles  to  meet  him  at  Reading,  in  Berkshire,  and  cited 
Longchamp  to  appear  there  to  account  for  his  conduct.  Aware  when  it  was 
too  late  of  the  dangerous  enemies  he  had  provoked  by  the  wanton  abuse 
of  his  authority,  the  prelate,  instead  of  appearing  before  the  council,  en- 
trenches! himself  in  the  Tower  of  London.  But  the  manner  in  which  he 
had  wielded  his  authority  had  left  him  so  few  and  such  lukewarm  friends, 
that  he  soon  found  that  he  was  not  safe  even  in  that  strong  fortress,  and, 
disguising  himself  in  female  apparel,  he  contrived  to  escape  to  Franco 
where  he  was  sure  to  find  a  cordial  reception  at  the  hands  of  Philip.  He 
1-16 


M9 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


waj*  now  in  fornf  deprived  of  the  high  civil  offices  which  by  his  flight  he 
had  virtually  surrendered,  and  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  who  had  a  high 
reputation  for  both  talent  and  prudence,  was  made  chancellor  and  justicia- 
ry in  Ins  stead.  As  Longchamp,  however,  held  the  legatine  power,  ol 
which  no  civil  authorities  could  deprive  him,  he  still  had  abundant  means, 
which  he  lost  no  opportunity  oC  using,  to  aid  the  insidious  endeavours  of 
Philip  to  disturb  the  peace  of  England  and  mjurc  the  absent  Richard. 

A.  D.  1192. Philip's  neighbourhood  to  Richard's  French  dominions  held 

out  an  opportunity  far  too  tempting  to  be  resisted  for  invading  thim, 
•vhich  he  was  on  the  point  of  openly  doing  when  he  found  himself  i^ro- 
vented  in  his  treacherous  schemes  by  the  almost  general  refusal  of  hir 
nobles  to  aid  him  in  so  unjust  an  enterprise  against  the  territories  of  a 
prince  who  was  gloriously— though  anything  but  prudently— periling  life 
and  limb  in  the  distant  wars  of  the  cross.  Philip  was  discouraged,  more* 
over,  in  this  part  of  his  dishonorable  plan  by  the  poj^e,  who,  especially 
constituting  himself  the  guardian  of  the  rights  of  all  princes  engaged  in 
the  crusade,  tr'-eatened  Philip  with  the  terrors  of  an  interdict,  should  he 
venture  to  persist  in  attacking  the  territority  of  his  far  worthier  brother- 
sovereign  and  fellow  crusader. 

But  though  obstacles  so  formidable  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to 

Cersist  in  this  open  ct  jrge,of  injustice,  save  at  the  hazard  of  destruction  to 
imself,  he  resolved  to  work  secretly  to  the  same  end.  Thoroughly  un- 
derstanding the  dishonourable  character  of  John,  he  made  overtures  to  tl.  tt 
base  and  weak  prince ;  offered  him  in  marriage  that  princess  Alice  whose 
blotted  character  had  caused  her  to  be  refused  by  the  usually  imprudent 
and  facile  Richard,  and  gave  him  assurance  of  investiture  in  all  the  French 
^ssessions  of  Richard,  upon  condition  of  his  taking  the  risk  of  invading 
them.  John,  whose  whole  conduct  through  life  showed  hini  to  be  des- 
titute of  all  feelings  of  faith  or  gratitude,  was  in  no  wise  startled  by  the 
atrocity  that  was  proposed  to  him,  and  was  in  the  act  of  commencing 
preparations  for  putting  it  into  execution  when  Queen  Eleanor,  more  jeal- 
ous of  the  kingly  rights  of  her  absent  son  than  she  had  formerly  showed 
herself  of  those  of  her  husband,  interposed  her  own  authoruy,  and  caused 
the  council  and  nobles  of  England  to  interpose  theirs,  so  effectually,  that 
John's  fears  overcame  even  his  cupidity,  ard  he  abandoned  a  project  which 
none  but  a  wholly  debased  mind  would  ever  have  entertained. 

While  these  things  were  passing  in  Europe,  the  high-spirited  but  unwise 
Richard  was  gathering  laurels  in  Asia,  and  unconsciously  accumulating 
upon  his  head  a  terrible  load  of  future  suffering ;  and  an  occurence 
which  just  now  took  place  in  that  distant  scene  was,  with  an  execra- 
ble ingenuity,  seized  upon  by  Philip  to  calumniate  in  Europe  the  absent 
rival,  each  new  exploit  of  whom  added  to  the  pangs  of  his  ever-aching  envy. 
There  was  in  Asia  ?.  mountain  prince,  known  to  Europeans  by  the  title 
of  the  "Old  Man  of  the  Mountain,"  who  had  obtained  .so  absolute  a  power 
over  the  excessively  superstitious  minds  of  his  subjects,  that,  at  a  word  or 
a  sign  from  him,  any  one  of  them  would  put  himself  to  death  with  the 
unmurmuring  and  even  cheerful  compliance  of  a  man  in  the  performance 
of  some  high  and  indefeasible  religious  duty.  To  die  at  the  order  of  their 
despotic  prince  was,  in  the  belief  of  these  unlettered  and  credulous  beings, 
to  secure  a  certain  and  instant  introduction  to  the  ineffable  delights  oi 
paradise ;  and  to  die  thus  was  consequently  not  shunned  or  dreaded  as  an 
evil,  but  courted  as  the  supremest  possible  good  fortune.  It  will  readily 
be  understood  that  a  race  of  men  educated  to  commit  suicide  at  the  word 
of  command,  would  be  found  no  less  docile  to  their  despot's  orders  in  the 
matter  of  murder.  The  care  with  which  they  were  instructed  in  the  art 
of  disguising  thei  ■  designs,  and  the  contempt  in  which  tiiey  held  the 
mortal  consequences  of  their  being  discovered,  rendered  it  certain  death 
to  give  such  offence  to  this  terrible  potentate  of  a  petty  territory  as  might 


awa 
Fran 
he  tc 
discc 


THE  TRBASURY  OF  HISTOHli. 


SH3 


envy, 
title 


inauce  him  to  dispatch  his  emissaries  upon  their  sanguinary  errand.  Con- 
rad,  marquis  of  Montferrat,  who  seem.>  to  have  posscssecl  a  considerable 
genius  for  quarrelling,  was  unfortunate  enough  to  give  deep  offence  to  the 
Old  Man  of  the  Mountain,  who  immediately  issued  against  him  his  infor- 
mal but  most  decisive  sentence  of  death.  Two  of  the  old  man's  devoted 
subjects,  known  by  the  name  of  assassins — which  name  their  practices 
have  '•-aused  to  be  applied  to  murderers — rushed  upon  Conrad,  while  sur- 
roundeii  'r-y  his  guards,  and  mortally  wounded  him. 

\bout  the  author  of  this  crime  there  was  not,  and  there  could  not  be,  the 
slightest  difference  of  opinion.  The  practice  of  the  Old  Man  of  th?  Moun- 
tain was  only  too  well  known ;  it  was  equally  notorious  that  the  marquis 
of  Montferrat  had  given  him  deep  offence  by  the  contemptuous  style  in 
which  he  refused  to  make  any  satisfaction  for  the  death  of  certain  of  the 
old  man's  subjects  who  had  been  put  to  death  by  the  citizens  of  Tyre ;  and 
to  put  the  cause  of  Conrad's  death  beyond  all  seeming  possibility  of  mis- 
take, the  two  assassins,  who  were  seized  and  p"t  tc  dcuui  wilh  liie  most 
cruel  tortures,  boasted  during  their  dying  agonies  that  they  died  in  the 
performance  of  their  duty  to  their  prince.  But  the  king  of  France  pre- 
tended wholly  to  disregard  all  the  circumstances  which  thus  spoke 
trumpet-tongued  to  the  truth,  and  loudly  protested  his  belief  in  the  foul 
murder  of  Conrad  having  been  committed  by  order  of  Richard,  the  former 
opponent  of  the  marquis  ;  and  affecting  to  imagine  that  his  person  was  in 
danger  of  attack  by  assassins,  this  accomplished  hypocrite  ostentatiously 
surrounded  himself  with  a  body-guard.  This  calumny  was  far  too  gross 
to  be  believed  by  any  one  ;  but  it  was  easy  to  seem  to  believe  it,  and  to 
convert  it  into  an  excuse  for  violating  both  the  rights  and  the  liberties  of 
the  most  valiant  of  all  the  crusaders. 

The  valour  and  conduct  of  KicharJ  and  the  other  Christian  leaders,  vast 
and  brilliant  as  they  were,  could  not  counterbalance  the  dissensions  which 
sprang  up  among  them.  An  immense  host  of  Infidels  under  Saladin  was 
vanquished,  nearly  forty  thousand  of  them  remaining  dead  upon  the  field 
of  battle ;  Ascalon  was  speedily  afterwards  taken ;  and  Richard  had  led 
the  victorious  Christians  within  sight  of  Jerusalem,  when  the  impoliilc 
dissensions  to  which  we  have  alluded  compelled  him  to  make  a  truce  with 
Saladin,  jusi  ha  the  perfect  triumph  of  the  cross  seemed  inevitable.  The 
duke  of  Burgundy,  whom  Philip  had  left  in  command  of  the  French,  open- 
ly and  obstinately  declared  his  intention  of  immediately  returning  to  Eu- 
rope ;  the  German  and  Italian  companies  followed  the  evil  example  thus 
set;  and  Richard,  compelled  to  treat  by  this  unworthy  defection,  could 
but  exert  himself  to  obtain  from  the  chivalrous  Saladin,  terms  as  favoura- 
ble as  possible  to  th»i  Christians.  By  the  terms  of  this  treaty,  which  was 
concluded  for  the  fanciful  period  of  three  years,  three  months,  three  weeks, 
three  days,  and  three  hours,  Acre,  Joppa,  and  other  parts  of  Palestine  were 
to  be  held  by  the  Christians,  and  Christian  pilgrims  were  to  proceed  to 
Jerusalem  without  let  or  molestation.  The  concluding  of  this  treaty  was 
nearly  the  last  important  public  act  of  Saladin,  who  shortly  afterwards 
expired  at  Damascus.  On  his  death-bed  he  ordered  legacies  to  a  large 
amount  to  be  distributed  among  the  poor  of  Damascus,  without  distinction 
of  religion,  and  Le  ordered  his  winding-sheet  to  be  exposed  in  the  public 
streets,  a  crier  the  while  making  proc;amation,  "This  is  all  that  remains 
of  the  mighty  Saladin,  the  conqueror  of  the  East." 

Taking  advantage  of  the  truce,  Richard  now  determined  to  return  to 
England,  to  oppose  his  own  power  and  authority  to  the  intrigues  of  his 
ungrateful  brother  John  and  the  unprincipled  king  of  France.  Being 
aware  that  he  would  be  exposed  to  great  danger  should  he  venture  through 
France,  he  sailed  for  the  Adriatic,  and  being  shipwrecked  near  Aquileia, 
he  took  the  disguise  of  a  pilgrim,  in  the  hope  that  it  would  enable  him  un- 
discoveied  to  pass  through  Germany.    Driven  out  of  his  direct  road  bt 


244 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


some  suspicions  of  the  governor  of  Istria,  he  was  so  imprudently  lavish  of 
his  money  during  his  ahort  slay  at  Vienna  that  his  real  ranii  was  discov- 
ered, and  he  was  thrown  into  prison  by  Leopold,  duke  of  Austria,  who  had 
served  under  and  been  grievously  affronted  by  him  at  the  siege  of  Acre. 
The  emperor  Henry  VI.,  whom  Richard  by  his  friendship  with  Tancred 
of  Sicily  had  also  made  his  enemy,  not  only  approved  of  Richard's  arrest 
but  required  the  charge  of  his  person,  and  offered  the  duke  of  Austria  a 
considerable  sum  of  money  as  a  reward  for  it. 

A.D.  1195. — The  gref  of  Richard's  friends  and  the  triumph  of  his  enemies 
were  alike  excited  when  the  news  of  his  capture  reached  England ;  the 
poLflbie  consequencs  being  obvious  to  both  parties.     Queen  Eleanor  spir- 
'te<   Y  demanded  the  interference  of  the  pope,  whose  duty  she  very  justly 
>>  eried  it  to  be  to  wield  the  thunders  of  the  church  in  protection  of  the 
onurch's  bravest  and  most  zealous  champion.    The  pope,  probably  influ- 
enced by  some  occult  and  crafty  motive  of  policy,  showed  himself  any- 
ihing  rather  than  eager  to  meet  the  urgent  wishes  of  Queen  Eleanor;  but 
as  foes  are  usually  far  more  zealous  than  friends,  so  Philip  seized  upon 
this  as  a  favourable  opportunity  to  exert  his  utmost  power  against  the  fal- 
len but  still  formidable  Richard,  and  he  exerted  himself  to  this  end  with 
an  activity  worthy  of  a  better  cause.    To  those  of  his  own  barons  who 
had  formerly  refused  to  join  him  in  attacking  the  territories  of  the  absent 
Richard,  he  now  urged  the  alledged  atrocity  of  that  prince  in  causing  the 
assassination  of  the  marquis  of  Montferrat ;  to  the  emperor  Henry  VI.,  he 
made  large  offers  either  (or  yielding  up  Richard  to  French  custody,  or  for 
solemnly  engaging  for  his  perpetual  imprisonment ;  and  having  made  a 
matrimonial  alUance  with  Denmark,  he  applied  for  permission  and  a  fleet 
to  enforce  the  Danish  claim  to  the  English  crown.     Nor  did  Philip  fail  to 
apply  himself  to  Prince  John,  whom  he  well  knew  for  the  most  willing 
and  eager  of  all  the  enemies  of  his  absent  brother.    John  had  an  interview 
with  the  king  of  France,  at  which,  on  condition  of  being  invested  with  his 
brother's  French  territory,  he  consented  to  yield  a  great  portion  of  Nor- 
mandy to  Philip;  and  it  is  with  no  little  appearance  of  probability  affirmed, 
that  he  even  did  hom:igc  to  Philip  for  the  English  crown.    Thus  much  is 
certain,  Philip  invaded  Normandy  and  was  well  served  by  John,  whose 
orders  enabled  him  to  take  Nenfchatel,  Gisors,  and  several  other  forts, 
without  striking  a  blow.    The  counties  of  Eu  and  Aumale  were  speedily 
overrun  by  Philip,  and  he  then  marched  against  Rouen,  loudly  threatening 
that  he  would  put  the  inhabitants  to  the  sword  without  mercy,  in  the  event 
of  his  experiencing  any  resistance.    But  here  Philip  was  at  length  des- 
tined to  receive  a  check.     The  earl  of  Leicester,  who  had  shared  Richard's 
perils  and  toils  in  Palestine,  was  fortunately  at  Rouen,  and  he  took  the 
command  of  the  garrison,  to  whom  his  example  and  his  renown  gave  new 
courage ;  and  they  fought  so  steadily  and  so  well,  that  Philip,  after  many 
severe  repulses,  consented  to  a  truce ;  the  English  regency  engaging  to 
pay  him  twenty  marks,  and  placing  four  fortresses  in  his  hands  by  way  of 
security. 

While  Philip  was  exerting  himself  in  Normandy  John  was  trying  tiie 
effect  of  a  most  audacious  falsehood  in  England.  Well  knowing  that  few 
indeed  among  the  barons  would  for  his  sake  consent  to  set  aside  the  hero 
of  Palestine,  John  boldly  tried  how  far  their  credulity  would  go,  and,  pre 
tending  that  he  had  received  undoubted  news  of  the  death  of  his  brother, 
demanded  the  crown  as  his  heir.  He  possessed  himself  of  the  important 
castles  of  Windsor  and  Wallingford ;  but  the  lords  justiciaries  were  so 
well  convinced  that  Richard  still  lived,  that  they  and  the  barons  by  whom 
they  were  supported  opposed  the  would-be  usurper  so  gallantly  and  so  ef- 
fectually, that  he  was  fain  to  sue  for  a  truce,  and  before  the  term  of  it  hf\d 
expired  he  took  refuge  at  the  court  of  Philip  of  France. 
It  is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  a  case  more  hopeless  than  that  of  he 


THE  XaEASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


24& 


;ov- 
bad 
.ere. 
cred 
rrest 
ha  a 

rnies 

;  the 
spir- 

justly 

if  the 
influ- 

'  any- 

r;  bu*. 
upon 

he  fal- 

d  with 

j8  who 

absent 

ing  the 

VI.,  he 

,  or  for 

made  a 

i  a  fleet 

p  fail  to 
willing 

itervicw 

with  his 

of  Nor- 

iffirined, 
much  is 
I,  whose 
jr  forts, 
sDeedily 

tealening 
he  event 
Iglh  des- 
:ichard's 
;ook  the 
;ave  new 
ier  many 
aging  to 
way  of 

iring  tiie 
[that  few 
I  the  hero 
and,  pre 
J  brother, 
liiporiant 
I  were  so 
Ly  whom 
Ind  so  ef- 
]of  ithnd 

latof  he 


royal  prisoner.    His  own  brother  plotting  against  him ;    the  papal  court 
lukewarm  in  his  cause,  if  not  even  possessed  by  a  still  worse  feeling ;  al- 
ready in  the  power  of  an  enemy,  and  hourly  expecting  to  be  handed  over 
lo  the  custody  of  an  enemy  still  more  imbittered  ;   the  proud  Richard  was 
at  the  same  time  subjected  to  every  petty  hardship  ana  galling  indignity 
which  might  be  supposed  likely  to  exasperate  his  spirit  and  incline  him 
10  offer  the  higher  ransom  for  his  release.     Philip  caused  his  ambassadors 
to  renounce  all  protection  to  Richard  as  his  vassal ;  and  when  it  was 
hoped  that  the  captive's  spirit  was  greatly  broken  by  continued  ill-usagi 
he  was  produced  before  the  imperial  diet  at  the  city  of  Worms,  and  there 
accused  by  the  emperor  of  having  made  alliance  with  Tancred,  the  usurper 
of  Sicily ;  of  having  at  Cyprus  turned  the  arms  of  the  crusaders  against 
a  Christian  prince,  those  arms  which  were  especially  and  solely  devoted 
to  the  chastisement  and  quelling  of  the  Infidels ;  of  having  grievously 
wronged  and  insulted  Leopold,  duke  of  Austria,  while  that  prince  was 
fighting  for  the  cross  before  Acre ;  of  having  by  his  quarrels  with  the  king 
of  France  injured  the  Christian  cause  in  the  East ;  of  having  planned  and 
caused  the  murder  of  Conrad,  marquis  of  Montferrat ;  and,  finally,  of  hav- 
ing  concluded  a  truce  with  the  infidel  Saladin,  and  left  Jerusalem  in  his 
hands.     If  Richard's  enemies  calculated  upon  his  sufferings  having  tamed 
his  spirit,  th'-y  were  soon  undeceived;  if  those  sufferings  were  severe,  so 
was  his  spirit  high.     His  speech,  as  summed  up  by  Hume,  is  a  model  of 
that  best  kind  of  eloquence,  which  springs  from  a  sense  of  right,  and  is 
clothed  in  the  brief  and  biting  sentences  of  keen  and  shrewd  common- 
sense.    "After  premising  that  his  dignity  might  exempt  him  from  answer 
ing  before  any  jurisdiction  except  that  of  heaven,  he  yet  condescended, 
for  the  sake  of  his  reputation,  to  justify  his  conducl  before  that  great  as- 
sembly.   He  observed  that  he  had  no  hand  in  Trancred's  elevation,  and 
only  concluded  ^  treaty  with  a  prince  whom  he  found  in  possession  of  the 
throne ;   that  the  king,  or  rather  the  tyrant,  of  Cyprus,  had  provoked  his 
indignation  "  v  the  mc  it  ungenerous  and  unjust  proceedings,  and  though 
he  had  ch?      ^ed  this  aggressor,  he  had  not  for  a  moment  retarded  the 
progress  c.  nis  chief  enterprise ;  that  if  he  had  at  any  time  been  wanting  in 
civility  to  the  duke  of  Austria,  he  had  already  been  sufficiently  punished  for 
that  sally  of  passion,  and  it  better  became  men  who  were  embarked  to 
gether  in  so  holy  a  cause  to  forgive  each  others  infirmities,  than  to  pursue 
a  slight  offence  with  such  uui-elenting  vengeance;  that  it  had  sufficiently 
appeared  by  the  event  whether  the  king  of  France  or  he  were  the  more 
zealous  for  the  conquest  of  the  Holy  Land,  and  were  more  likely  to  sacri- 
fice private  passions  and  animosities  to  the  great  object ;  that  if  the  whole 
tenor  of  his  life  had  not  shown  him  incapable  of  a  base  assassination,  and 
justified  him  from  that  imputation  even  in  the  eyes  of  his  very  enemiea. 
It  was  in  vain  for  him  at  present  to  make  his  apology  or  to  plead  the  many 
irrefragable  arguments  which  he  could  produce  in  his  own  favour ;  and, 
finally,  however  he  might  regret  the  necessity,  he  was  so  far  from  being 
ashamed  of  his  truce  with  Saladin,  that  he  rather  gloried  in  that  event,  and 
thought  it  extremely  honourable  that,  though  abandoned  by  all  the  world, 
supported  only  by  his  own  courage  and  by  the  small  remains  of  his  na- 
tional troops,  he  could  yet  obtain  such  conditions  from  the  most  powerful 
and  most  warlike  emperor  that  the  east  had  ever  yet  produced.     After 
thus  deigning  to  apologize  for  his  conduct,  he  burst  out  into  indignation  at 
the  cruel  treatment  which  he  had  met  with ;  that  he,  the  champion  of  the 
cross,  still  wearing  that  honourable  badge,  should,  after  expending  the 
blood  and  treasure  of  his  subjects  in  the  common  cause  of  Christendom, 
be  intercepted  by  Christian  princes  on  his  return  to  his  own  country,  be 
thrown  into  a  dungeon,  be  loaded  with  irons,  be  obliged  to  plead  his  cause 
as  though  he  were  a  subject  and  a  malefactor,  and,  what  he  still  more  re- 
gretted, be  thereby  prevented  from  making  preparations  for  a  new  crusade 


240 


THE  TttEASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


which  he  had  projected,  after  the  expiration  of  the  truce,  and  from  redeem- 
ing the  sepulchre  of  Christ  which  had  so  long  been  profaned  by  the  do- 
minion of  the  Infidels." 

The  force  of  Richard's  reasoning  and  the  obvious  justice  of  his  com 
plaints  won  nearly  all  present  to  his  side  ;  the  German  princes  themselves 
cried  shame  upon  the  conduct  of  the  emperor,  whom  the  pope  even  threat- 
ened with  excommunication.  The  emperor,  therefore,  perceived  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  him  to  complete  his  ineffably  base  purpose  ol  giv- 
ing up  to  Philip  of  France  and  the  false  and  cruel  Prince  John  the  person 
of  Richard  in  exchange  for  sordid  gold ;  and  as  it  seemed  unsafe  even  to 
continue  to  confine  him,  the  emperor  consented  to  bis  relief  at  a  ransom 
of  150,000  marks ;  two-thirds  to  be  paid  previous  to  Richard's  release,  and 
sixty-seven  hostages  to  be  at  the  same  time  delivered  to  secure  the  faith- 
ful payment  of  the  remainder.  Henry  at  the  same  time  made  over  to 
Richard  certain  old  but  ill-ascertained  claims  of  the  empire  upon  the  king- 
dom of  Aries,  including  Provence,  Dauphiny,  Narbonne,  and  some  other 
territory. 

A  hundred  thousand  marks,  equivalent  to  above  two  hundred  thousand 
pounds  of  our  money,  was  a  sum  to  raise  wliich  required  no  small  exer- 
tion on  the  part  of  Richard's  friends.  The  king's  ransom  was  one  of  the 
cases  for  which  the  feudal  law  made  express  provision.  But  as  it  was 
found  that  the  sum  of  twenty  shillings  which  was  levied  upon  each 
knight's  fee  did  not  make  up  the  money  with  the  rapidity  which  friendly 
and  patriotic  zeal  required,  great  individual  exertions  were  made,  the 
clergy  and  nobility  giving  large  sums  beyond  what  could  have  fairly  been 
demanded  of  them,  and  the  churches  and  religious  houses  actually  melt- 
ing down  their  plate  to  the  amount  of  30,000  marks.  As  soon  as  the 
money  by  these  extraordinary  exertions  was  got  together.  Queen  Eleanor, 
accompanied  by  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  went  to  Mentz  and  there  paid 
it  to  the  emperor,  to  whom  she  at  tiie  same  time  delivered  the  hostages 
for  the  payment  of  the  remainder.  There  was  something  perfectly  prov- 
idential in  the  haste  made  by  the  friends  of  Richard :  for  had  there  been 
the  least  delay,  he  would  have  been  sacrificed  to  the  treacherous  policy 
of  the  emperor,  who,  anxious  to  obtain  the  support  of  the  king  of  France 
against  the  threatening  discontent  of  the  German  princes,  vas  induced  to 
determine  upon  perpetuating  the  captivity  of  Richard,  even  after  the  re- 
lease of  that  prince  on  the  payment  of  the  money  and  the  delivery  of  the 
specified  number  of  hostages.  The  emperor  had  so  fully  determined 
upon  this  flagitious  breach  of  faith,  that  he  actually  sent  messengers  to 
arrest  Richard,  who,  however,  had  sailed  and  was  out  of  sight  of  land 
ere  ihey  reached  Antwerp.  Richard  was  received  most  rapturously  by 
his  faithful  subjects,  and,  as  if  anxious  to  wipe  away  the  stain  of  incar- 
ceration, he  revived  the  custom  which  his  father  had  allowed  to  fall  into 
neglect,  of  renewing  the  ceremony  of  coronation.  "  Take  care  of  your- 
self," wrote  Philip  to  John,  "the  devil  has  broken  loose."  The  barons 
in  council  assembled,  however,  were  far  more  terri  ile  to  tt  ungrateful 
John  than  his  fiery  yet  placable  brother,  for  they  confiscated  the  whole  of 
John's  English  property,  and  took  possession  of  all  the  fortresses  that 
were  in  the  hands  of  his  partisans. 

Having  made  some  stay  in  England  to  rest  himself  after  his  many 
faiigfues,  and  having  found  his  popularity  proof  even  against  the  some- 
what perilous  test  to  which  he  put  it  by  an  arbitrary  resumption  of  all 
the  grants  of  land  which,  previous  to  going  to  the  East,  he  had  made  with 
an  improvidence  as  remarkable  as  his  present  want  of  honesty,  Richard 
now  turned  his  attention  to  punishing  the  wanton  and  persevering  enmity 
of  Philip  of  France.  A  war  ensued,  but  it  was  weakly  conducted  on 
both  sides,  and  a  truce  was  at  length  made  between  them  for  a  year.  A' 
the  commencenieut  of  this  war  John  was  on  thr  side  of  Philip;  1  u  ,  a/ 


THE  THKASUllY  OF  HISTORY. 


947 


I  many 
Isome- 
lof  all 

with 
^chard 
tnmity 
led  on 
A' 

u  ,  ai* 


f  inca^bie  of  beini;  faithful  even  in  wickedness,  he  took  an  opportunity 
»o  desert,  and  having  secured  the  powerful  intercession  of  Queen  Elea- 
nor, he  ventured  to  throw  himself  at  the  feet  of  Richard  and  entreat  his 
pardon,  "  May  I  as  easily  foraret  his  injuries  as  he  will  my  forgiveii«8s !" 
was  the  shrewd  remark  of  Ridiard  on  forgiving  his  unnatural  brother. 

The  truce  between  England  and  France  being  at  an  end,  the  emperor 
of  Germany  solicited  Richard's  offensive  aUiance  against  France,  and 
though  circumstances  occurred  to  prevent  the  treaty  with  the  emperor 
from  being  ratified,  the  mere  proposal  sufficed  to  renew  the  war  between 
Richard  and  Philip;  but  on  this  occasion,  as  before,  the  operations  were 
conducted  most  weakly  and  on  a  very  insignificant  scale,  (a.  d.  1196.) 
After  some  petty  losses  on  each  side  a  peace  was  made ;  but  the  kings 
were  too  inimical  to  each  other  to  remain  long  at  rest,  and  in  about  two 
months  hostilities  were  recommenced. 

On  this  occasion  Richard  was  joined  by  the  counts  of  Flanders,  Bou- 
logne, Champagne,  and  Toulouse,  and  by  some  other  of  his  fellow-vassals 
of  the  crown  of  France ;  but  the  alliance  was  thus  productive  of  far  less 
benefit  than  Richard  had  anticipated. 

The  prelates  of  that  day  were  more  frequently  than  became  them 
found  on  the  battle-field.  On  one  occasion  during  this  war  the  bishop  of 
Beauvais,  a  relative  of  the  French  king,  was  taken  prisoner  in  battle,  and 
Richard  loaded  him  with  irons  and  threw  him  into  prison,  as  though  he 
had  been  the  vilest  of  malefactors.  The  pope,  at  the  instance  of  the 
king  of  France,  demanded  the  release  of  the  valiant  bishop,  of  whom  he 
spoke  as  being  "his  son."  Richard,  with  a  dry  and  bitter  humour,  of 
which  he  serjms  to  have  possessed  no  inconsiderable  share,  sent  to  the 
pope  the  blood-stained  armour  which  the  prelate  had  worn  in  the  battle, 
and  quoted  the  words  of  Jacob's  sons,  "this  have  we  found;  know  now 
whether  it  be  thy  son's  coat  or  no."  How  long  the  alternation  of  weak 
war  and  ill-kept  peace  would  have  continued  it  is  impossible  to  judge,  for 
the  great  cruelty  which  both  kings  exercised  upon  their  prisoners  indi- 
cated a  feeling  of  malignity  too  deep  to  be  destroyed  by  the  efforts  of 
negotiators ;  but  while  such  efforts  were  being  made  by  the  cardinal  St. 
Mary,  the  pope's  legate,  Richard,  who  had  escaped  in  so  many  furious 
conflicts  both  in  the  East  and  Europe,  perished  from  the  effect  of  a 
wound  received  in  a  petty  quarrel. 

A.  D.  1199. — Vidomar,  viscount  of  Limoges,  who  was  a  vassal  of  Ri- 
chard's, found  some  treasure  and  sent  a  considerable  share  as  a  present 
to  him ;  Richard  demanded  that  all  should  be  given  up  to  him  as  superior 
lord,  and,  on  receiving  a  refusal,  led  some  troops  to  the  siege  of  the  castle 
of  Chalus,  in  which  the  viscount  was  staying.  On  the  approach  of 
Richard  at  the  head  of  a  iiumerons  force  of  Bmbangons,  the  garrison 
offered  to  surrender  on  terms,  but  Richard  cruelly  replied  that  he  would 
first  take  the  place  and  then  hang  up  every  man  of  the  garrison.  After 
making  this  reply,  which,  unhappily,  was  only  too  characteristic  of  his 
temper,  Richard,  attended  by  one  of  his  captains,  approached  the  walls  to 
reconnoitre,  and  had  an  arrow  lodged  in  his  shoulder  by  an  archer  named 
Bertrand  de  Gourdon.  Almost  at  the  same  moment  Richard  gave  the 
order  for  the  assault,  and  on  the  place  being  taken  he  literally  put  his 
threat  into  execution  upon  the  garrison,  with  the  sole  exception  of  de 
Gourdon,  who  was  only  temporarily  spared  that  he  might  have  the  cruel 
distinction  of  a  slower  and  more  painful  death.  Richard  was  so  much 
mangled  by  the  awkwardness  with  which  the  barbed  arrow  was  drawn 
from  his  wound,  that  mortification  rapidly  set  in,  and  the  monarch  felt 
that  his  last  hour  approached.  Causing  de  Gourdon  to  be  brought  into 
his  presence,  he  demanded  how  he  had  ever  injured  him.  "  With  your 
own  hand,"  firmly  replied  the  prisoner,  "you  slew  my  father  and  my  two 
brothers.    You  also  threatened  to  hang  me  in  common  with  my  fellow 


•49 


THB  T11BA8UIIY  OF  HI8T011Y 


soldiers.     I  am  now  in  your  power,  but  I  shall  bo  consoled  under  the 
worst  tortures  that  you  run  cause  to  be  inflicti'd  upon  me  u'ilc  I  can  re 
fled  that  I  have  been  able  to  rid  the  earth  of  such  a  nuisance."     Richard, 
softened  by  pain  and  the  near  approach  of  death,  ordered  that  the  bold 
archer  should  bo  set  at  liberty  and  presented  with  a  considerable  sum  of 
money;  but  Marcadee,  the  leader  of  the  Brabaiigons  in  whose  company 
Kichard  was  wounded,  brutally  had  de  Gourdon  flayed  alive  and  then 
hanged.     Richard's  wound  defied  the  rude  science  of  his  surgeons,  and 
after  considerable  autYeriug  he  died  on  the  6ih  of  April,  119!),  in  the  f^rty- 
second  year  of  his  age  and  the  tenth  of  his  reign— a  reign  very  brilliant 
as  regards  his  warlike  feats,  but  in  all  the  higli  and  really  admirable  qual- 
ities of  a  monarch  very  sadly  delicient.     His  conduct  was  in  some  par- 
ticular cases  not   merely  oppressive,  as  regarded  his  ways  of  raising 
money,  but  absolutely  dishonest.     As,  for  instance,  he  twice  in  his  reign 
gave  orders  that  all  charters  should  be  resealed,  the  parties  in  each  case 
having,  of  course,  to  pay  the  fees;  and  in  many  cases  taxes  were  inflicted 
upon  particular  parties  without  any  other  authority  than  the  king's  mere 
will.    But  it  was  chiefly  ni  the  re-enactment  of  all  the  worst  parts  of  the 
forest  laws,  those  parts  which  inflicted  the  most  cruel  and  disgusting  mu- 
tilations upon  the  offenders.     Out  while  this  particular  branch  of  law  was 
shamefully  severe,  the  police  of  London  and  other  great  towns  was  in  an 
equally  lax  state.     Robbery  and  violence  in  the  streets  were  very  com- 
mon ;  and  at  one  time,  in  1196,  a  lawyer  named  Fitzosbert,  surnamed 
Longbeard,  had  acquired  a  vast  and  dangerous  power  over  the  worst  rab- 
ble of  London,  numbering  nearly  fifty  thousand,  who  under  his  orders  for 
some  time  set  the  ill-consolidated  authorities  at  defiance.     When  called 
upon  by  the  chief  justiciary  to  give  an  account  of  his  conduct,  he  attend- 
ed with  so  numerous  a  rabble,  that  the  justiciary  deemed  it  unsafe  to  do 
more  with  him  at  that  time  than  merely  call  upon  him  to  give  hostages 
for  his  future  good  behaviour.     But  the  justiciary  took  measures  for  keep- 
ing a  watchful  eye  upon  Fitzosbert,  and  at  length  attempted  to  take  him 
into  custody,  on  which  he,  with  his  concubine  and  some  attendants,  took 
refuge  in  Bow  Church,  where  he  defended  himself  very  resolutely,  but 
was  at  length  taken  and  hanged.     So  infatuated  were  the  populace,  how- 
ever, that  the  very  gibbet  upon  which  this  man  was  executed  was  stolen, 
and  it  was  pretended  that  pieces  of  it  could  work  miracles  in  curing  the 
diseased.     Though  so  fiery  in  temper,  and  so  excessively  addicted  to 
bloodshed,  Richard  was  by  no  means  destitute  of  a  certain  vein  of  ten- 
derness and  romance.     He  prided  himself  pretty  nearly  as  much  upon  his 
skill  as  a  troubadour  as  upon  his  feats  as  a  warrior,  and  there  are  even 
some  of  his  compositions  extant.     On  the  whole,  however,  we  fear  that 
the  popularity  of  Richard  does  little  credit  either  to  his  contemporaries 
or  his  posterity  as  far  as  good  judgment  is  concerned.     Brilliant  qualities 
he  undoubtedly  had ;  but  his  cruelty  and  his  dogged  self-will  threw  > 
blemish  over  them  all. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE     REIGN     OF     JOHN. 

A.  D.  1199. — When  Richard  went  to  Palestine  he  by  a  formal  will  set 
aside  the  claim  of  John  to  be  his  successor,  in  favour  of  Arthur  of  Brit- 
tany, the  son  of  their  brother  Geoffrey.  But  during  Richard's  absence 
John  caused  the  prelates  and  nobles  to  swear  fealty  to  him  in  despite  of 
that  deed ;  and  Richard,  on  his  return  to  England,  so  far  from  showing 
any  desire  to  disturb  that  arrangement,  actually  in  his  last  will  consti- 
tuted John  his  successor,  in  direct  contradiction  to  his  own  former  and 


THE  TREAflUHY  OF  MlftTOHY. 


?49 


nil  set 
If  Bril- 
Ibsetice 
^pite  oi 
flowing 
jconsti- 
ler  and 


Inrmal  deed.  But  though  John  wnii  Uiuh  authoritatively  nnnicd  an  hii 
Drolher*8  stirnriisoi,  many  of  the  hannis  <»f  Norniaiidy  thought  the  right 
of  Yonng  Arthur  wholly  indefeiiHJhlc  by  even  the  will  of  his  uncle;  nnd 
Philip,  who  was  glad  of  any  opportunity  to  injure  the  pearo  of  the  Kn- 
glish  territories  in  Franco,  cheerfully  agrcrd  to  aid  them  in  the  support 
of  the  young  prince,  whom  he  sent  to  Paris  to  be  fducated  with  his  own 
son.  John  acted  with  unusual  alertness  and  good  judgment  on  this  occa- 
sion. Sending  his  mother,  Eleanor,  to  secure  the  provinces  of  Guienne 
and  Poictou,  where  she  was  greatly  beloved,  he  himself  proceeded  t6 
Rouen,  and  having  made  all  the  arrangements  necessary  to  keep  peace  in 
Normandy,  he  proceeded  thence  to  England.  H(!rc  he  found  little  or  no 
difficulty  m  causing  his  claim  to  be  preferred  to  that  of  a  mere  boy  ;  and 
having  received  the  homage  of  all  the  most  powerful  barons,  he  hastened 
to  France  to  prepare  the  necessary  opposition  to  whatever  exertions 
Philip  might  make  on  behalf  of  young  Arthur. 

A.D.  1200.— The  actions  between  John  and  Philipwere  of  but  little  impor- 
tance  ;  and  the  latter  having  inspired  young  Arthur's  mother  with  the  no- 
tion that  he  sought  to  bcneflt  himself  rather  than  her  son,  seized  an  oppor- 
tunity to  withdraw  Arthur  from  the  French  court,  and  placed  him  under 
the  protection  of  John.  Finding  tiwir  mutual  want  of  power  to  obtain  any 
great  and  permanent  advantage  by  war,  the  two  kings  now  made  a  treaty 
ill  which  the  limits  of  their  several  territories  were  laid  down  with  great 
exactitude;  nine  barons  of  each  nation  swore  respectively  to  maintain  .ne 
treaty  in  good  faith,  t  ven  should  it  be  necessary  to  make  war  upon  their 
own  sovereign,  and  still  farther  to  insure  its  due  and  faithful  observance 
John  gave  his  niece,  Blanche  of  Casiile,  with  certain  fiefs  of  her  dower, 
to  Prince  Louis,  eldest  son  of  the  French  king.  Being  thus  relieved  from 
all  apparent  danger  on  the  side  of  France,  John,  though  he  had  a  wife 
living,  determined  to  gratify  his  passion  for  Isabella,  heiress  of  the  count 
of  Anjouleme,  though  she  was  already  married  to  the  Count  de  la  Marche, 
her  youth  alone  having  hitherto  prevented  the  consummation  of  the  union. 
John,  reckless  of  the  double  difficulty,  persuaded  Isabella's  father  to  give 
him  his  daughter,  whom  he  espoused  alter  having  unceremoniously  di- 
vorced his  lawful  wife. 

A.  D.  1201. — The  Count  de  la  Marche,  in  the  highest  degree  provoked  at 
this  flagrant  and  insoletit  wrong  that  thus  was  dune  him,  found  it  no  diffi- 
cult task  to  excite  commotion  in  I'oictou  and  Normandy ;  the  barons  there, 
as  elsewhere  in  John's  dominion,  being  already  offended  and  disgusted  by 
the  mixture  of  weakness  and  insolence  in  which,  probably,  John  has  never 
been  equalled.  Alarmed  as  well  as  enraged  by  the  disobedience  of  his 
French  barons,  John  determined  to  punish  them  ;  but  on  summoning  the 
chivalry  of  England  to  cross  the  sea  with  him  for  that  purpose,  he  was 
met  with  a  demand  that,  before  they  crossed  over  to  restore  his  authority 
in  his  transmarine  dominions,  they  sliould  have  their  privileges  restored 
and  plact'd  upon  a  secure  footing.  Their  demand  was  not  attended  to  on 
the  present  occasion,  but  this  union  of  the  barons  led,  as  we  shall  hereafter 
see,  to  the  most  important  consequences.  On  the  present  occasion  John 
contrived  to  break  up  the  coalition  of  the  barons,  some  of  whom  agreed  to 
accompany  him  on  his  expedition,  while  the  rest  were  mulcted  two  marks 
on  each  knight's  fee  as  a  substitute  for  their  personal  attendance. 

The  addition  of  the  force  he  carried  from  England  to  that  which  re- 
mained faithful  to  him  in  Normandy  gave  John  an  ascendancy  which, 
rightly  used,  might  have  spared  him  many  a  subsequent  hour  of  care. 
But  it  was  contrary  to  John's  nature  to  make  a  right  use  of  powei ;  and 
the  moment  he  found  himself  safe  from  the  infliction  of  injustice  he  was 
seized  with  an  ungovernable  desire  to  inflict  it  upon  others.  He  advanced 
claims  which  he  knew  to  be  unjust ;  and  as  disputes  of  the  feudal  kind 
were  chiefly  to  be  settled  by  the  duel,  he  coiistantly  kept  abc  ut  him  akil- 


350 


THK  TKKAHIIKY  OK  HIrtTOHY 


Tul  and  (leflpiiratii  liruvoH  whose  huHJiicHH  it  waa  to  act  as  hia  champioM 
ill  CAHVH  of  ii|i|)(al  of  <lu(!l.  Thi!  (Jonut  «Io  1h  Martlie  and  other  high 
•pirilod  haroiiB  complaiiird  of  lh«!  indiamly  offtred  to  them  in  thus  oppoHiiig 
to  llieiii,  a!«  tittiiit;  aiilaiioiiiMta,  uu'ii  who.so  low  birth  and  infanioua  char- 
actiT  inado  them  unworthy  of  tho  notice  of  warriora  of  good  birth  and 
tfcnth!  brciihiijjr,  ap|)tal('d  to  I'hihp  an  their  superior  lord,  and  called  upon 
him  to  protect  them  against  the  wantonness  of  John's  tyranny.  Philip, 
who  saw  all  tho  advantai^ea  which  might  posaibly  accrue  to  himself,  uf. 
fei'ted  the  part  of  a  just  lord  ;  and  John,  who  could  not  disavow  Philip'a 
authority  without  at  the  same  time  striking  at  hia  own,  promised  that  by 
grantiii(r  his  barons  an  equitable  judgment  in  hia  own  court  ho  would  de- 
prive tlicm  both  of  the  right  and  the  necensity  of  appealing  to  the  superior 
court  of  IMiilii).  Again  and  again  his  promises  were  renewed,  but  only  to 
be  brok(  n  ;  riiilip,  finding  that  his  sense  of  honour  alone  was  no  security, 
demanded  that  the  castle  of  Uoutavant  and  Tilleries  should  bo  placed  lu 
his  hands  as  security  for  justice  being  done  to  the  barons.  Jolin  was  too 
weak  to  resist  this  demand;  but  he  wan  also  too  faithless  to  kcjp  his 
prr  '<iise,  which  was  broken  just  as  it  would  have  been  had  he  given  no  se- 
curity whatever. 

A.  D.  1203. — Young  Arthur  of  Brittany,  who  was  now  springinginto  man- 
hood and  who  had  a  very  decided  taste  for  warfare,  had  by  this  time  seen 
enough  of  the  cruel  and  tyrannous  character  of  his  uncle  to  feel  that  he 
was  not  in  safety  while  living  with  him  ;  he  therefore  made  his  escape  to 
Philip,  who  received  him  with  the  utmost  distinction,  knighted  him,  gave 
him  his  daughter  Mary  in  marriage,  and  invested  him  not  only  in  his  he- 
reditary lirittany,  but  also  with  Anjou  and  Maine.  The  French  army  was 
for  a  time  successful  in  every  attempt ;  Tilleries  and  Bnutavant,  Mortimat 
and  Lyons,  were  taken  almost  without  difficulty  ;  and  Gournay,  complete- 
ly flooded  by  a  stratagem  of  Philip,  was  abHiidoncd  to  him  by  the  as- 
tounded garrison.  At  each  new  loss,  John,  timid  in  adver.sity  as  he  was 
despotic  and  unsparing  in  prosperity,  made  new  endeavours  to  obtain 
peace  ;  but  tiie  sole  condition  upon  which  Philip  would  now  consent  to 
even  listen  to  his  proposals,  was  his  full  resignation  of  all  his  territory  on 
the  continent  to  Prince  Arthur.  An  accident  at  length  occurred  which 
changed  the  prospects  of  that  young  prince,  with  fearful  rapidity,  from  the 
utmost  success  to  the  most  complete  ruin.  Well  knowing  how  much  his 
grandmother.  Queen  Eleanor,  had  ever  been  opposed  to  his  welfare,  and 
hearing  that  she  was  in  the  fortress  of  Mirabeau,  in  Poictiers,  and  but 
slenderly  attended,  it  occurred  to  him  that  if  he  could  obtain  possession  of 
her  person  he  would  obtain  the  means  of  exercising  considerable  influence 
upon  his  uncle's  mind,  and  he  accordingly  sat  down  to  besiege  the  place, 
the  fortification  of  which  promised  no  very  long  resistance.  John,  though 
at  some  distance  when  informed  of  his  mother's  danger,  hastened  to  her 
assistance  with  a  speed  very  unusual  for  him,  surprized  young  Arthur's 
camp,  dispersed  his  forces,  and  took  Arthur,  together  with  Count  de  la 
Marche  and  otiier  distinguished  leaders  of  the  revolted  barons,  prisoners. 
Most  of  tho  prisoners  were  for  greater  security  shipped  off  to  England; 
but  Arthur  was  conflned  in  the  castle  of  Falaise,  where  he  was  speedily 
admitted  to  the  dangerous  honour  of  an  intereiew  with  his  uncle.  John 
reproached  Arthur  less  with  the  injustice  of  his  cause  in  general,  than  with 
the  folly  of  his  expecting  to  derive  any  permanent  advantage  from  the 
French  alliance,  which  would  keep  him  at  variance  with  his  own  family, 
merely  to  make  him  a  tool ;  a  view  of  the  case  which  was  none  the  less 
corre(^t  because  taken  by  a  prince  of  whose  general  character  a  just  man 
finds  it  impossible  to  approve.  Arthur,  brave  and  sanguine,  asserted  that 
his  claim  was  superior  to  that  of  his  uncle,  and  that  not  only  as  regarded 
the  French  territories,  but  as  regarded  England  also;  and  he  called  npoD 
John  to  listen  to  tho  voice  of  justice  and  restore  him  to  his  rights. 


THE  TRKA8UIIY  OK  HISTORY. 


tftl 


(liatorinnfi  Aiffv.r  nn  tottit;  way  in  whicli  John  freiMl  liiinscli  from  a  c<tin- 
pntitor  whuao  early  holdneffH  proiniMfil  at  iiodiHlant  day  to  8iv(!  Iiim  mucK 
trouble.  VVt*  liuv<>  always  doubted  Hit;  vxm'l  accuracy  ofall  tlic  accounts, 
for  the  timidity  and  diMtrust  whiirli  fornicil  so  principal  a  part  of  JoIiiTh 
unainiablc  character  would  Hiirely  never  have  deiterled  him  so  Tar  on  ho 
terribly  oerions  an  occasion,  an  would  bu  iinpliud  by  his  pruceudinif  bein|{ 
known  with  circumstantial  accuracy. 

All  thnt  HctMnH  to  us  to  he  ct-rtain  upon  the  vi  ry  painTul  Hubjcct  is,  that 
after  a  stormy  interview  with  his  uncle  youiiB;  /irlhiir  was  seen  no  more 
for  soint  time.  A  report  got  into  very  yeneral  .-irculatioii  that  he  had 
been  unfairly  dealt  with.  Such,  it  hcmiiiim,  was  not  the  case  as  yot.  The 
king,  it  is  ntlirmed,  Ki.d  applied  to  William  de  la  Hray  to  put  the  young 
prince  to  death,  but  he  »;obly  replied  that  lio  was  a  ^rontleman,  not  an  as- 
sasnin  or  a  hangman.  A  less  scrupulous  person  was  at  length  found  and 
sent  to  the  castle  of  Falaisu  ;  but  he  was  sent  away  by  Hubert  dc  liurgh, 
the  governor  of  the  fortress,  with  the  assurance  that  he  would  himself  do 
what  was  necessary ; — which  humatie  deception  he  followed  up  by  spread- 
ing a  report  of  the  prince's  death,  and  oven  going  through  the  form  of  his 
funeral.  But  when  the  death  of  the  young  pri  ce  was  ilms  authoritative- 
ly asserted,  the  general  ill  character  of  John  caused  him  to  br  universally 
pointed  at  as  the  murderer ;  and  Hubert  du  Uurgh,  fearing  that  all  Urittany 
would  break  out  into  revolt  confessed  the  innocent  deceptioD  he  had  prac* 
tised.  .lohn  no  sooner  learned  that  his  unfort.iiate  nep'ow  still  l;-'ed, 
than  ho  ordered  his  removal  from  the  custody  of  the  faithiul  and  hu  lane 
Dc  Uurgh^and  had  him  taken  to  the  castle  of  Uouen.  H  >re  John  ;  ■>  ed 
Arthur  in  the  dead  of  night,  and,  though  the  young  priiuvj  is  said  \.i  luve 
knelt  to  him  and  prayed  for  his  life,  stabbed  him  with  Ins  own  haiid. 

That  John  was  capable  of  this  extreme  atrocity  we  h^  v  Miforlnnately 
too  much  reason  to  gather  from  the  universal  dete.statioi  in  v  Inch  he  was 
held  by  his  contemporaries.  But  though  there  is  littl-  re. .son  to  doubt  that 
Arthur  perished  by  the  order,  at  least,  if  not  by  the  very  hand,  of  his 
uncle,  we  would  again  direct  the  attention  of  the  reader  to  the  too  great 
particularity  of  this  account,  in  the  first  place,  and  to  a  discrepancy  be- 
tween  the  natural  character  of  Arthur  and  that  part  of  the  story  which 
represents  him  as  kneeling  in  terror  to  his  uncle.  The  story  savours 
somewhat  more  than  it  should  of  a  scene  from  Shakspeare,  whose  dramatic 
genius  it  would  be  idle  to  question,  but  whose  historic  authority  we  should 
be  loth  to  pin  our  faith  upon. 

But  though  it  is  scarcely  probable  that  so  wily  a  person  as  John  would 
allow  the  details  of  his  tyrannous  cruelty  to  be  thus  brought  before  the 
world,  and  though  his  personal  timidity  rendered  him  as  unlikely  to  have 
undertaken  with  his  own  hand  the  murder  of  Arthur,  as  it  was  that  this 
high-hearted  young  prince  would  show  any  terror,  even  in  the  death  hour, 
the  universal  belief  of  John's  contemporarily  .  v'^s  that  he,  whether  witii  his 
own  hand  or  not,  caused  Arthur's  death;  i.5  i !:  udand  terrible  was  the  out- 
cry of  the  people  of  Brittany,  to  whom  Arthui  was  as  dear  as  his  wily  and 
cruel  uncle  was  hateful.  Eleanor,  Arthur'  *  sister,  was  in  the  power  of 
John,  who  kept  her  closely  confined  in  England ;  but  the  Breons,  resolved 
to  do  anything  rather  than  willingly  acknowledge  the  sway  of  John,  chose 
for  their  sovereign  young  Alice  the  daughter  of  Constance  by  her  second 
husband,  Guy  de  Thouars,  to  whom  they  conmiitted  the  affairs  of  the 
duchy  as  guardian  of  his  daubhter,  and  they  at  the  same  time  appealed  to 
Philip  as  superior  lord  to  do  justice  upon  John  for  hi.s  violence  to  Arthur, 
who  was  feudatory  to  France.  Philip  summoned  John  to  appear  before 
liim,  and,  in  default  of  his  doing  so,  he  was  declared  a  felon  and  sentenced 
to  forfeit  all  seigiiory  and  fief  in  France  io  his  superior  lord,  Philip. 

No  one  who  has  accurately  read  what  has  already  been  related  of  the 
shrewd,  grasping,  and  somewhat  cunning  character  of  Philip,  can  doubt 


252 


THE  TRKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


that,  from  the  first,  he  took  up  the  cause  of  >onng  Arthur  less  with  a  view 
to  the  benefit  of  that  young  prince,  than  in  the  hope  that  the  chapter  of  ac 
cidents  would  enable  him,  sooner  or  later,  to  deprive  the  English  crown 
of  some  portion,  if  not  all,  of  its  French  appanages.  And  the  appeal  of 
his  Bretons  to  his  justice,  the  unwise  advantage  afforded  to  him  by  John's 
default  of  appearance,  and  the  unanimous  sentence  of  the  French  peers, 
now  seemed  to  give  him  something  like  a  substantial  and  judicial  right  as 
against  John. 

The  exertions  and  sagacious  policy  of  Henry  would  have  evoked  French 
opposition  to  any  such  attempt ;  that  skilful  politician  would  have  found 
but  little  difficulty  in  leading  the  French  barons  to  abstain  from  endeavour- 
ing to  add  to  the  authority  of  their  superior  lord,  lest  in  so  doing  they 
should  insure  their  own  ruin.  Neither  would  it  have  been  safe  to  try 
such  a  plan  while  the  lion-hearted  Richard  lived  to  shout  his  fierce  battle 
cry  in  that  popular  voice  which  would  have  been  heard  in  hall  and  tower, 
and  which  would  nowhere  have  been  unheeded  where  chivalry  still  abode. 
But  John,  destitute  alike  of  courage,  popularity,  and  of  true  policy,  was 
little  likely  to  unravel  or  defeat  a  dexterous  policy  or  long  to  withstand 
actual  force,  hated  as  he  was  even  by  his  own  barons.  The  opportunity 
was  the  more  tempting  to  Philip,  oecause  those  of  his  great  vassals  who 
would  have  been  the  most  likely  to  oppose  his  aggrandizement  were  either 
absent  or  so  much  enraged  against  John,  that  their  desire  to  annoy  him 
and  abridge  the  power  he  had  so  shamefully  abused,  overcame  in  their 
minds  all  tendency  to  a  cooler  and  more  selfish  style  of  reasoning. 

Philip  took  several  of  the  fortresses  situated  beyond  the  Loi*,  some  of 
which  he  garrisoned  for  himself,  while  others  he  wholly  destroyed  ;  and 
his  early  successes  were  followed  up  by  the  surrender  to  him,  by  the  count 
d'Alensbn,  of  all  the  places  which  he  had  been  entrusted  to  hold  for  John. 
Elated  by  this  success,  and  desirous  to  rest  his  troops,  Philip  disembodied 
them  for  the  season.  John,  enraged  by  all  that  had  passed  in  this  brief 
campaign,  took  advantage  of  this  too-confident  movement  of  Philip,  and 
sat  down  before  Alengon  with  a  strong  army.  But  if  Philip  was  capable 
of  committing  a  military  error,  he  was  equally  capable  of  seizing  upon 
the  readiest  means  of  repairing  it.  To  delay  while  he  was  re-collecting 
his  scattered  troops  would  be  to  expose  the  count  to  the  whole  force,  and, 
in  the  case  of  defeat,  to  the  whole  vengeance,  too,  of  John.  But  it  fortu 
nately  happened  that  the  most  eminent  nobles,  not  only  of  France  but 
also  of  Italy  and  Germany,  were  at  this  very  time  assembled  at  a  splendid 
tournament  at  Moret.  Hither  Philip  directed  his  course,  gave  a  vivid 
description  of  the  evil  character  of  John,  of  his  own  disinterested  desire 
to  punish  the  craven  feloniy  of  that  prince,  and  of  the  danger  in  which 
the  count  de'Alengon  was  placed  by  his  devotion  to  truth  and  chivalry, 
which  had  led  hin:  to  dare  the  vengeance  of  one  who  was  well  known  to 
be  unsparing  after  the  stricken  field,  as  craven  while  the  tide  of  battle  still 
rolled ;  and  he  called  upon  the  assembled  chivalry,  aa  they  valued  their 
noble  and  ancient  names,  to  follow  him  to  the  worthy  task  of  aiding  a 
gallant  and  honourable  noble  against  a  dastardly  and  adjudged  felon. 
Such  an  appeal,  made  to  such  heart?,  could  receive  but  one  answer.  Like 
one  man,  the  assembled  knights  followed  Philip  to  the  plains  of  Alengon, 
resolved,  at  whatever  cost,  to  raise  the  siege.  But  John  saved  them  all 
trouble  on  that  score.  His  conscience  told  him  that  there  were  men  in 
that  brave  host  who,  if  he  should  chance  to  be  made  prisoner,  would  be 
likely  to  take  fearful  vengeance  for  the  untimely  death  of  /oung  Arthur ; 
and  he  would  not  even  await  their  apporach,  but  raised  the  siege  in  such 
haste  that  he  actually  left  all  his  tents  and  baggage  of  every  description 
behind  to  be  captured  by  ihe  enemy. 

For  some  time  John  kept  his  court  at  Rouen,  showing  i>  other  feeling 
than  a  most  ludicrous  confidence  in  his  own  resources  whenever  he  should 


men  in 
ould  be 
Arthur ; 
in  such 
scription 


HUBhUT  AND   PUINCE    AUTHUR, 


?r  feeling 
le  should 


THK  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


363 


determine  to  make  use  of  them.  When  information  was  brought  to  him 
uf  8ome  new  success  on  the  part  of  the  French,  he  would  reply  "Ah !  let 
them  go  on;  by  and  by  I  will  just  retake  in  a  single  day  whut  they  have 
spent  years  in  taking." 

Such  conduct  naturally  disgusted  the  brave  barons  of  England  and  the 
English  provinces,  and  weakened  their  desire  to  combat  fur  a  prince  who 
seemed  so  obstinately  bent  upon  their  disgrace  and  his  own  ruin.  But 
though  he  had  neglected  those  means  of  defence  uf  which  his  brother 
would  have  been  even  too  eager  to  avail  himself,  there  was  one  resource 
of  which  John  had  not  neglected  to  avail  himself;  ho  had  humbly  and 
pressingly  appealed  to  Rome.  Such  appeals  were  always  gladly  received 
at  that  ambitious  court,  and  Philip  received  a  peremptory  command  to 
make  peace  with  John,  and  abstain  from  trenching  any  farther  upon  his 
territory.  But  Philip  had  inspired  his  barons  with  a  hatred  equal  to  that 
which  he  himself  felt  for  John;  and,  regardless  of  any  possible  injury 
which  their  own  authority  might  suffer  from  the  undue  aggrandizement 
of  their  king,  they  loudly  assured  him  that  he  should  have  their  cordial 
support  against  all  foes  whosoever,  and  as  loudly  denied  the  right  of  the 
pope  to  the  temporal  authority  which  he  thus  took  upon  himself  to  exer- 
cise. Encouraged  by  this  disposition  of  his  barons,  Philip,  instead  ol 
complying  with  the  orders  of  the  pope,  proceeded  to  lay  siege  to  the 
chateau  Gaillard,  which  was  the  most  important  fortress  that  was  now 
left  to  defend  the  Norman  frontier. 

A.  D.  1204. — This  place  was  admirably  strong  both  by  nature  and  by  art. 
Built  partly  upon  an  islet  of  the  Seine  and  partly  upon  an  opposite  crag, 
neither  labnur  nor  expense  had  been  spared  upon  it,  and  at  this  very  time 
it  was  held  by  a  numerous  garrison  commanded  by  Roger  de  Lacy,  con- 
stable of  Chester,  a  leader  of  determined  courage  as  well  as  of  great  skill. 

Philip,  thinking  it  more  facile  to  take  such  a  place,  so  garrisoned,  by 
famine  than  by  main  force,  threw  a  bridge  acToss  the  Seine,  where  he 
posted  a  part  of  his  force,  and  he  himself  at  the  head  of  the  remainder 
undertook  its  blockade  by  land.  The  earl  of  Pembroke,  by  far  the  ablest 
person  whom  John  then  had  about  him,  assembled  a  force  of  four  thou- 
sand foot  and  three  thousand  horse,  with  which  he  purposed  to  attack 
Philip's  camp,  while  a  fleet  of  seventy  flat-bottomed  craft,  numerously 
manned,  was  simultaneously  to  sail  up  the  Seine  and  attack  the  bridge, 
and  thus  throw  relief  into  the  fortress.  The  earl  was  exact  'n  performing 
his  part  of  the  attack,  and  even  at  the  outset  obtained  some  considerable 
advantage  over  Philip ;  but  the  weather  chancing  to  retard  the  fleet  on  its 
passage,  its  assistance  arrived  too  late  for  the  support  of  the  earl,  who 
was  already  defeated.  Had  the  attack  been  made  simultaneously  and  by 
night,  according  to  the  earl's  plan,  it  had  most  probably  been  successful; 
as  it  was,  Philip  was  enabled  to  deal  with  his  assailants  in  detail,  and  beat 
Iheni  both  off  with  very  considerable  loss.  John,  who  was  easily  depres- 
sed by  defeat,  was  so  much  discouraged  by  the  ill  success  of  the  earl,  that 
he  could  not  be  induced  to  make  any  farther  attempt  to  relieve  this  impor- 
tant fortress,  though  ample  opportunity  and  inducements  were  offered  to 
him  to  do  so  by  the  gallant  conduct  of  De  Lacy,  who  for  a  whole  year  con- 
tinued to  defend  himself,  in  spite  of  great  suffering  from  want  of  provi- 
sion.  He  was  at  length  overpowered  in  a  night-attack,  and  he  and  his 
whole  garrison  made  prisoners.  To  the  credit  of  Philip,  he  showed  his 
sense  of  the  courage  and  fidelity  with  which  De  Lacy  had  continued  to 
serve  his  master  even  after  he  had  been  abandoned  by  him,  by  giving  him 
for  his  place  of  confinement  the  whole  extent  of  the  city  of  Paris. 

It  is  difficult  full;'  to  understand  the  indolence  and  incapacity  which 
could  induce  John  to' neglect  the  relief  of  chateau  Gailliard,  upon  which  the 
safely  of  his  whole  Norman  territory  depended.  This  depeiidance  he 
could  not  be  ignorant  of;  arvl  it  was  rapidly  and  perfectly  illustrated  by  the 


■/54 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


successes  which  Philip  obtained  after  its  capture.  Falaise,  Caen,  Con- 
stance, Evreux,  Bayeux,  and  other  fortresses  successively  fell  into  hM 
hands ;  Lupicaire,  a  Brabangon  leader,  to  whom  John  had  entrusted  the 
defence  of  the  first-named  place,  deserted  with  all  his  men  to  the  standard 
of  Philip,  and  .vhile  the  lower  division  of  Normandy  was  thus  overrun  by 
the  French  under  Philip,  Upper  Normandy  was  entered  by  the  Bretons 
under  Guy  de  Thouars,  who  took  Avranches,  Mont  St.  Michel,  and  the 
other  strong-holds  of  that  part.  Pressed  thus  by  an  active  prince,  who 
was  served  by  men  of  conduct  and  courage,  and  abandoned  by  John, 
whose  hasty  -  nd  secret  departure  for  England  might  almost  be  cal- 
led a  flight,  tlie  Normans  had  no  resource  but  to  submit  to  Philip,  much  as 
they  disliked  the  ulea  of  subjection  to  the  French  government. 

A.  D.  1205. — A'  there  was  still  a  portion  of  the  Normans  who,  though 
abandoned  ly  the  king  of  England,  determined  to  defer,  if  not  wholly  to 
avoid,  their  submission  to  Philip,  Rouen,  Argues,  and  Yerneuil  confedera- 
ted for  this  purpose.  Philip  immediately  advanced  his  troops  against  the 
first-named  city,  the  inhabitants  of  which  signalized  their  hatred  of  France 
by  forthwith  putting  to  death  every  man  of  that  nation  who  was  living 
among  them.  The  cruel  are  rarely  brave ;  and  the  defence  of  Rouen  by 
no  means  answered  to  the  promise  of  desperation  given  by  this  treacher- 
ous butchery.  Scarcely  had  the  besiegers  commenced  operations  when 
the  besieged  lost  heart,  and  merely  demanded  a  truce  of  thirty  days  to 
enable  them  to  obtain  succour  from  their  prince.  Philip,  who  well  under- 
stood the  character  of  John,  and  therefore  felt  sure  that  he  who  had  aban- 
doned chateau  Gailliard  was  little  likely  to  show  more  courage  in  the  less 
hopeful  case  of  Rouen,  complied  with  this  demand.  As  Philip  had  fore- 
seen, no  supplies  or  aid  arrived,  and  the  city  was  yielded.  All  the  rest  0/ 
the  province  equally  submitted  to  Philip,  who  thus  had  the  credit — mucb 
abated,  though,  by  the  character  of  his  opponent — of  reuniting  to  France 
this  important  portion  of  its  proper  territory  three  centuries  after  Charlei 
the  Simple  had  alienated  it  by  cession  to  the  first  duke,  the  valiant  Rollo 
From  Normandy,  Philip  easily  extended  his  victorious  arms  to  Anjou, 
Maine,  Touraine,  and  a  portion  of  Poictou ;  John,  the  while,  instead  oi 
endeavouring  to  arrest  the  progress  of  his  enemy,  was  railing  against  his 
barons  for,  wliat  he  called,  their  desertion  of  him,  and  adding  to  the  national 
evils  created  by  his  indolence,  the  mischief  which  he  still  had  the 
power  to  do;  mulcting  his  barons  in  the  seventh  portion  of  all  their  move- 
able property  as  a  pmishment  for  this  pretended  offence. 

Not  content  with  even  this  impudent  and  excessive  extortion,  John 
next  demanded  a  scutage  of  two  and  a  half  marks  upon  each  knight's  fee 
to  enable  him  to  conduct  an  expedition  uito  Normandy  ;  but  the  money 
once  received,  the  expedition  was  no  longer  thought  of!  Subsequently 
he  collected  a  fleet,  as  if  fully  determined  to  make  an  attempt  to  recover 
his  transmarine  possessions ;  but  on  some  objections  being  made,  he  aban- 
doned this  design,  too,  on  the  plea  that  he  was  deserted  and  betrayed  by 
his  barons ;  and  at  length  mustered  courage  enough  to  put  to  sea,  but 
speedily  returned  to  port  without  aught  being  done  or  attempted.  Con- 
sidering the  fiery  temper  and  warlike  habits  of  the  barons,  it  is  perfectly 
astonishing  that  they  so  long  endured  the  insults  of  a  king  whose  very 
style  of  insulting  was  so  characteristic  of  his  weakness. 

A.  D.  1206. — An  ally  was  at  length  presented  to  John  in  a  person  from 
whom  he  had  but  little  right  to  expect  aid  or  encouragement,  Guy  de 
Thouars,  to  whom,  in  right  of  his  daughter  Alice,  the  Bretons  had  com- 
mitted their  government.  This  noble,  perceiving  the  immense  strides 
made  by  Philip,  became  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  Brittany,  and  therefore 
made  a  proposition  to  John  for 'their  junction  against  Philip,  and  John 
accordingly  left  Ei)<rlaMd  with  a  considerable  force  and  landed  in  safety  at 
Rochelle,  whence  he  marched  to  Angers,  which  he  captured  and  burned 


THE  TREASURY  OF  Hi.8T0RY. 


255 


Philip  now  rapidl}^  approached,  and  John,  becoming  alarmed,  gained  time 
by  making  proposals  for  peace,  and  then  covertly  fled  back  to  England — 
safe,  indeed,  in  person,  but  loaded  with  disgrace  and  contempt,  which  to 
any  one  less  debased  in  sentiment  would  have  been  far  more  terrible  than 
death  itself.  Thus  all  the  vast  sums  which  John  had  extorted  from  his 
barons,  under  pretence  of  recovering  his  lost  footing  in  France,  were  ex 
pended,  not  in  repairing  the  loss,  but  in  adding  disgrace  and  disgust  to  it. 

We  have  already  remarked  that  it  was  astonishing  that  fiery  and  martial 
men  could  so  long  endure  the  doings  of  a  man  so  mean  in  act  and  weak 
ill  character  as  John ;  and  astonishing  it  certainly  was,  even  making  all 
possible  allowance  for  the  extensive  power  which  the  very  nature  of 
the  feudal  tenure  gave  in  reality,  and  the  still  greater  power  which  it  gave 
in  idea,  to  the  Norman  sovereigns.  It  is  to  he  considered,  however,  that 
this  great  power,  wielded  as  it  had  been  by  the  art  of  some  of  John's  pre- 
decessors and  the  martini  energy  of  others,  was  not  to  be  either  easily  or 
early  shaken,  even  by  the  personal  misconduct  of  a  John,  in  whom  the 
king,  the  great  feudal  lord  paramount,  would  still  be  feared  and  obeyed  by 
the  most  powerful  of  his  vassals,  after  the  man  John  had  overwhelmed 
himself  with  the  contempt  and  the  disgust  of  the  meanest  horseboy  in  hia 
train.  But  even  the  vast  prestige  of  the  feudal  monarchy  was  at  length 
worn  out  by  the  personal  misconduct  of  the  weak  monarch ;  and  the  church, 
ever  ready  to  seize  rpon  opportunity  of  extending  and  consolidating  its 
immense  temporal  power,  was  the  first  to  encroach  upon  the  authority 
which  John  had  so  often  proved  himself  unworthy  to  hold,  and  unable  to 
wield  with  either  credit  to  himself  or  advantage  to  his  people. 

A.D.  1207. — The  then  pope.  Innocent  III.,  having  arrived  at  the  papal 
power  at  the  unusually  early  age  of  thirty-seven,  had  never  been  unmind- 
ful c  f  the  opportunities  that  presented  themselves  to  him.  Taking  advan- 
tage of  the  plausible  pretext  afforded  to  him  by  the  state  of  the  Holy  Land, 
he  had  so  far  stretched  his  authority  over  the  clergy  of  Christendom,  as  to 
send  among  them  collectors  with  authority  to  levy  a  fortieth  part  of  all 
ecclesiastical  revenues  for  the  relief  of  Palestine ;  and  to  make  this  levy 
the  more  obviously  and  emphatically  an  act  of  authority  and  power  of  the 
popedom  over  the  ecclesiastics,  the  same  collectors  were  authorized  to 
receive  a  like  proportion  of  laymen's  revenues,  not  as  a  tax,  but  as  a  vol- 
untary contribution.  A  pope  thus  resolved  and  austute  in  riveting  his 
chains  upon  a  body  so  numerous  and  so  powerful  as  the  clergy,  was  not 
likely  to  be  slow  in  exercising  his  power  against  so  contemptible  a  prince 
as  John ;  nor  was  an  opportunity  long  wanting. 

Hubert,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  dying  in  1205,  the  monks  of  Christ- 
.•in:rch,  Canterbury,  had  the  right  of  election,  subject  to  the  consent  of  the 
king;  but  a  minority  of  them,  consisting,  too,  almost  without  exception, 
of  the  juniors,  assembled  on  the  very  night  of  Hubert's  death,  and  elected 
its  his  successor  their  sub-prior,  Reginald,  who,  having  been  hastily  and 
covertly  installed  in  the  archiepiscopal  throne,  immediately  set  out  for 
Rome  to  procure  the  pope's  confirmation.  The  vanity  of  Reginald,  or  the 
want  of  prudence  fii'  his  friends,  caused  the  affair  to  reach  the  king's  ears 
almost  as  soon  as  the  .^ew  archbishop  had  commenced  his  journey.  John 
was  so  far  favourably  situated,  that  his  anger  at  this  presumptuoub  and  ir- 
regular proceeding  of  the  junior  monks  of  Canterbury  was  fully  shared  by 
the  senior  monks,  and  also  by  the  suffragans  of  Canterbury,  both  of  whom 
had  a  right  to  influence  the  election  of  their  primate.  In  the  hands  of  the 
monks  John  left  the  new  election,  only  recommending  that  they  should 
elect  the  bishop  of  Norwich,  John  de  Gray.  He  was  according  elected, 
but  as  the  .uffragans  had  not  even  in  this  new  election  b^en  considered, 
they  now  sent  an  agent  to  Rome  to  protest  against  it,  while  the  king  and 
the  monks  of  Cliristchurch  sent  twelve  of  that  order  to  support  it.  Here 
the  great  advantage  was  clearly  thrown  into  the  hands  of  the  pope,  for 


256 


THB  TREASURY  OP  HHTORY. 


while  ea<:i;  ol  i'\e  three  disputing  parties  opposed  the  pretensions  of  the 
other  two,  all  rhree  agreed  m  acknowledging  the  pope's  authority  to  de- 
cide the  question;  and  Innocent  III.  was  not  the  man  to  allow  that  ad- 
vantage to  escape  his  notice.  That  the  election  of  Reginald  had  been 
irregular  and  furtive,  none  but  himself  and  his  immediate  friends  could 
well  deny ;  and  the  authority  of  the  papal  court  easily  overruled  the  pre- 
tensions  of  the  suffr^^an  bishops,  which,  to  say  the  truth,  were  strongly 
opposed  to  the  papal  maxims  and  usages.  These  two  points  boine  decided 
iv  would  at  firs!  aight  have  seemed  clear  that  th  ;  decisioi;  mtisr  be  in  fa- 
vour of  the  bishop  of  Norwich ;  but  the  pope  d«!cjdfc('  ihat  the  first  election 
being  disputed  is  irregular,  the  decision  of  the  pop*'  ;ipon  that  election 
should  have  ptooeded  any  attempt  at  a  new  one  ;  tiial  as  it  had  nc'  t  >ne 
so,  SUL-:  second  election  was  urranonieal  and  m;:l.',nud  l^;:..t,  :•;"  i  corolii.ri , 
henceforth  the  appointment  to  the  primacy  must  remain  in  ihe-  hund'^  of 
the  pope.  Following  up  this  decision  by  action,  If  commanded  the  monks 
who  had  been  deputed  to  dcroiul  the  election  of  the  bishop  of  Norwich  im- 
mediately to  elect  tbc  cardinal  Langton,  a  mam  of  great  talent,  English 
by  birth,  but  infiriitf;!y  more  luitfhed  to  the  interests  of  Rome  than  to 
those  of  his  native  land.  All  the  monies  objected  to  this  course,  'lat  li.  y 
should,  even  looking  only  to  the  pope's  ()wn  r.  .tent  decision,  be  commit 
ting  a  new  irregularity,  iiaving  ntiiiier  the  king's'  writ  nor  the  authority 
of  their  convent  to  warrant  them  ;  but,  wit),  the  sin2;io  ex-  ;  tion  of  Klias 
iJe  Branltneld,  they  succumbed  to  the  poje's  l  uthority,  and  In?  ,ilectiou  was 
made  accordingly. 

Innocent  now  followed  up  his  arbitrary  proceedings  by  what  our  histo- 
rians ( ,iil  a  nioliifying  letter  and  present  to  John;  but  what  would  certain- 
ly \t".  caik'l  an  addition  of  mockery  to  injury  in  the  case  of  any  clearer- 
iKMi  u  d  and  iiigher-hearted  prince,  for  by  *<  ay  of  consoling  John  for  the 
pieccJent  th'is  set  of  transferring  to  the  papal  court  one  of  the  most  valued 
and,  in  many  respects,  important  prerogatives  of  the  English  crown.  Inno- 
cent sent  him  him  four  gold  rings  set  with  pRcious  stones,  and  an  explan- 
atory letter  of  no  less  precious  conceits.  "  He  begged  him,"  says  Hunici 
in  his  condensed  account  of  this  admirably  grave  papal  jest,  "to  consider 
seriously,  the  form  of  the  rings,  their  number,  their  matter,  and  their  col 
our.  Their  form,  being  round,  shadowed  out  eternity,  which  had  neither 
beginning  nor  ending;  and  lie  ought  thence  to  learn  his  duty  of  aspiring 
from  eartlily  objects  to  heavenly,  from  things  temporal  to  things  eternal. 
The  number,  four,  being  a  square,  denoted  steadiness  of  mind,  not  to  be 
subverted  either  by  adversity  or  by  prosperity,  Jixed  forever  on  the  lirm 
basis  of  the  four  cardinal  virtues.  Gold,  which  is  the  matter,  being  the 
most  precious  of  metals,  signified  wisdom,  which  is  the  most  valuable  o! 
all  accomplishments,  and  justly  preferred  by  Solomon  to  riches,  power, 
and  all  exterior  attainments.  The  blue  colour  of  the  sapphire  represented 
faith ;  the  green  of  the  emerald,  hope ;  the  redness  of  the  ruby,  charily ; 
and  the  splendour  of  the  topaz,  good  works." 

Never,  surely,  were  mystical  conceits  vended  at  a  higher  price !  Even 
John,  weak  and  tame  as  was  his  spirit,  did  not  considef  four  rings  and  a 
bundle  of  conceits  quite  an  adequate  consideration  for  the  more  precious 
and  substantial  jewel  of  which  *he  pope  had  so  unceremoniour^y  Jeprived 
him,  and  his  wrath  was  tremer.duous.  As  the  monks  of  Canterbury 
showed  themselves  willing  to  abide  by  the  election  which  their  fellows  at 
Rome  had  made  in  obedience  to  the  pope,  the  first  effe^its  of  his  anger  fell 
upon  them.  He  despatched  Henry  de  Cornhule  and  Fulke  de  Cantelupe 
two  resolute  knights  of  hifs  retinue,  to  expel  the  prior  and  monks  of  Christ- 
church  not  only  from  their  convent,  but  also  from  the  kingdom,  a  duty 
wh.ich  the  knights  performed  quite  literally  at  the  point  of  the  sword ;  a 
pic?e  of  violence  at  once  partial  and  childisli,  v'b;ch  Iniiocent  noticed  only 
by  a  iipw  letter,  i"  which  he  earnestly  advissd  tJ  '  king  no  longer  to  oppose 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


267 


i  of  the 
y  to  de- 
that  ad- 
ad  been 
l8  could 
the  pre. 
strongly 
r  dsciued 
be  'i':\  fa- 
te! e<:  lion 
election 

sop'l'-vr  , 
hiit^'i'-  uf 
he  niojiks 
rwich  im- 
,  English 
e  than  to 
,  :hatu;.y 
'  comniit 
aiithority 
n  of  Elias 
scliovi  was 

our  histo- 
ild  certain- 
ly clearer- 
ihn  for  the 
nost  valued 
own,  Inno- 
an  explan- 
ays  Iluni«! 
to  consider 
d  their  col 
jad  neither 
of  aspiring 
igs  eternal. 
1,  not  to  be 
m  the  firm 
•,  being  the 
I  valuable  ol 
les,  power, 
.-epresented 
w,  charity ; 


himself  to  God  and  the  church,  nor  longer  to  uphold  that  unrighteous  cause 
which  had  coat  the  martyr  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury  his  lile,  but  at  the 
same  time  exalted  liim  to  an  equality  with  the  liighei<t  saints  in  heaven — 
a  very  plain  allusion  to  the  possibility  of  Ueckets  being  easily  found  to 
maintain  tiie  cause  of  Rome  against  a  prince  so  mucb  meaner  tiian  he  to 
whom  "tlie  martyr"  Becket  had  done  so  much  evil! 
As  this  significant  hnit  had  not  as  much  effect  as  the  pope  had  antici- 

Eated  in  reducing  John  to  submission,  Innocent  now  commissioned  the 
ishops  of  London,  Worcester,  and  Ely  to  assure  him  tiiat  slioulJ  he  per- 
severe in  iiis  disobedience  to  tiie  Huly  See  an  interdict  should  he  laid  upon 
his  kingdom ;  and  both  these  and  their  brother  prelates  actually  knelt  to 
him,  and  with  tears  besought  him  to  avert  a  result  so  fearful,  by  consent- 
ing to  receive  archbishop  Langton  and  restoring  the  monks  of  Christchurch 
to  their  convent  and  revenue.  But  John,  though  well  aware  how  little  he 
could  depend  upon  the  love  of  his  states,  whom  he  did  not  even  dare  to 
assemble  to  support  him  in  an  open  struggle,  was  encouraged  by  tlie  very 
humility  of  the  posture  assumed  by  the  prelates  not  merely  to  refii.se  com- 
pliance with  their  advice,  but  to  couch  his  refusal  in  terms  fully  as  dis- 
graceful to  him  as  they  could  be  offensive  to  those  to  whom  they  were 
addressed.  Not  contented  with  personally  insulting  the  prelates,  he  de- 
clared his  defiance  of  the  pope  himstlf;  swearmg  "by  God's  teeth"  that 
should  the  pope  lay  an  interdict  upon  his  kingdom,  he  would  send  the 
whole  of  the  English  clern;y  to  Rome  for  support  and  take  their  estates 
and  revenues  to  his  own  use ;  and  that  if  thenceforth  any  Romans  ven- 
tured into  his  dominions  they  should  lose  their  eyes  and  noses,  .nat  all 
who  looked  upon  them  might  know  them  from  other  and  better  men.  In- 
nocent was  not  to  be  deceived  by  this  vague  and  vnlgar  abuse;  lie  well 
knew  the  real  weakness  of  John's  position,  and  finding  that  half  measures 
and  management  would  not  suffice  to  reduce  him  to  obedience,  he  at  length 
issued  the  terrible  sentence  of  interdict.  As  this  sentence  frequently  oc- 
curs in  our  history,  and  as  it  is  essential  that  readers  should  clearly  and 
in  detail  understand  the  nature  of  the  decree  by  which  Rome  could  for  ages 
send  terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  mightiest  nations  in  Christendom — a 
terror  from  which  neither  rank,  sex,  nor  scarcely  any  stage  of  life  was 
exempted — we  pause  here,  in  the  regular  march  of  onr  history,  to  quote 
the  brief  but  clear  description  of  it  which  we  find  succinctly  given  in  Hume, 
from  the  accounts  scattered  in  many  pages  of  more  prolix  writers. 

"The  sentence  of  interdict  was  at  that  time  the  great  instrument  of  ven- 
geance and  policj'  employed  by  the  court  of  Rome ;  was  denounced  against 
sovereigns  for  the  lightest  offences;  and  made  the  guilt  of  one  person  in- 
volve the  ruin  of  millions,  even  in  their  spiritual  and  eternal  welfare.  The 
execution  of  it  was  calculated  to  strike  the  senses  in  the  highest  degree 
and  to  operate  with  irresistible  force  on  the  superstitious  minds  of  the  peo- 
ple. Thr  nation  was  suddenly  deprived  of  all  exterior  exercise  of  its  re- 
ligion ;  the  altars  were  despoiled  of  their  ornaments ;  the  crosses,  the 
reUques,  the  images,  the  statues  of  the  saints,  were  laid  on  the  ground; 
and,  as  if  the  air  itself  were  profaned  and  might  pollute  them  by  its  con- 
tact, the  priests  carefully  covered  them  up,  even  from  their  own  approach 
and  veneration.  The  use  of  the  bells  entirely  ceased  in  all  the  churches , 
the  bells  themselves  were  removed  from  the  steeples,  and  laid  on  the 
ground  with  the  other  sacred  utensils ;  mass  was  celebrated  with  closed 
doors,  and  none  but  the  priests  were  admitted  to  that  holy  institution;  the 
laity  partook  of  no  religious  rite,  except  baptism  to  newly-born  infants 
and  the  c;):»inunion  to  the  ii_,ing;  the  dead  were  not  interred  in  consecra- 
ted ground;  they  were  thrown  into  ditches,  or  buried  in  common  fields, 
and  their  cosequies  were  not  attended  with  prayers,  or  any  hallowed  cer- 
remony.  Marriage  was  celebrated  in  the  churchyards ;  and,  that  every 
action  of  life  might  bear  the  marks  of  this  dreadful  situation,  the  peopiK 
I.— 17 


<58 


THE  TRKASURY  OF  HI8T0HY. 


were  prohibited  the  use  of  meat  as  in  Lent ;  and,  as  in  times  o{  the  highest 
penance,  were  debarred  from  all  pleasures  and  entertainments,  and  were 
forbidden  even  to  salute  each  other,  or  so  n)iich  as  to  shave  their  beards 
and  give  any  decent  attention  to  their  person  and  apparel.  Every  circum- 
stance carried  symptoms  of  the  deepest  distress,  and  of  the  most  imme- 
diate apprehension  of  divine  indignation  and  vengeance." 

Unwarned  by  even  the  commencement  of  this  state  of  things  in  liia 
kingdom,  and  obstinately  closing  his  eyes  against  the  contempt  m  which 
he  was  held  by  those  lay  barons  upon  whom  he  must  depend  for  what- 
ever support  he  might  need  against  the  spiritual  power,  John  now  turned 
his  vengeance  especially  against  those  of  the  clergy  who  ventured  to  pay 
attention  to  the  interdict,  and  generally  against  the  adherents  of  Arch- 
bishop Langton.  The  prelates  of  these  classes  he  iiit  into  exile,  and 
the  monks  he  confined  to  their  convent  with  the  barest  possible  allowance 
for  their  temporal  necessities,  and  in  both  cases  he  made  himself  the  re- 
cipient of  their  revenues.  Concubinage  being  a  common  vice  of  the 
clergy,  he  seized  upon  that  point  to  annoy  them  by  throwing  theif  concu- 
bines into  prison,  whence  he  would  only  release  them  upon  payment  of 
high  fines ;  conduct  which  was  the  more  ogregriously  tyrannical,  because 
he  well  knew  that,  in  most  cases,  those  who  were  called  the  concubines 
of  the  clergy  lived  with  all  the  decency  and  fidelity  of  wives,  and  only 
were  not  wives  in  consequence  of  the  cruel,  unnatural,  and  odious  exer- 
cise of  the  power  of  Rome  to  compel  the  celibacy  of  the  clergy. 

Meantime  the  quarrel  between  John  and  the  pope  continued  its  invet 
eracy  on  both  sides,  and  lasted  for  some  years ;  the  people,  who  had  no 
part  in  the  quarrel,  being  thus  exposed  to  all  the  evils  and  vexations  which 
we  have  described,  excepting  in  the  comparatively  few  cases  where  the 
threat.s  or  persuasions  of  John  were  powerful  enough  to  induce  the  clergy 
to  disregard  the  interdict.  With  these  exceptions,  upon  which  even  the 
laity,  much  as  they  were  injured  by  the  interdict,  looked  with  dislike  and 
contempt,  all  the  clergy  remaining  in  England  were  the  enemies  of  John. 
But  he,  affecting  the  utmost  contempt  for  public  opinion,  clerical  as  lay, 
loaded  all  classes  of  his  people  with  heavy  imposts  to  defray  the  expenses 
of  Scotch,  Welsh,  and  Irish  expeditions,  in  which  success  itself  produced 
him  no  glory,  as  it  proceeded  rather  from  the  weakness  of  those  to  whom 
he  was  opposed  than  from  his  own  valour  or  conduct.  As  if  desiri  us  to 
irritate  his  subjects  to  the  utmost,  he  made  the  very  diversions  of  his 
leisure  hours  either  insulting  or  injurious  to  them.  His  licentiousness  in- 
sulted their  families  wherever  he  made  his  appearance  ;  and  he  added  to 
the  odious  character  of  his  forest  laws  by  prohibiting  his  subjects  from 
pursuing  feathered  game,  and  by  the  purely  spitei'iil  act  of  causing  the 
forest  fences  to  be  removed,  so  that  the  cultivated  delds  in  the  neighbour- 
hood were  trampled  and  fed  upon  by  the  vast  herds  of  deer  which  the  in- 
jured husbandman  dared  not  destroy. 

A.  D.  1206. — A  constant  continuance  in  a  course  like  this  could  not  fail 
to  excite  against  (he  king  the  hatred  even  of  those  among  his  subjects 
who  had  taken  little  or  no  interest  in  his  original  quarrel  with  Rome,  and 
a  consciousness  of  this  hatred,  so  far  from  causing  him  to  retrace  his 
steps,  only  aroused  him  to  grosser  and  more  determined  tyranny,  and  he 
demanded  from  all  of  his  nobility  whom  he  honoured  with  his  suspicions 
that  they  should  place  their  nearest  relatives  in  his  hands  as  hostages. 
Among  those  of  whom  this  insulting  demand  was  made  was  William  de 
Bravuse,  whose  lady,  a  woman  of  determined  spirit  and  plain  speech,  told 
the  king's  messenger,  that  for  her  part  she  would  never  consent  to  entrust 
her  son  in  the  hinds  of  the  man  who  had  notoriously  murdered  his  own 
nephew.  The  t)aron,  though  both  wealthy  and  powerful,  was  sensible 
that  there  was  no  safety  for  him  after  such  a  reply  had  been  returned  to 
the  king,  and  he  sought  shelter,  with  his  wife  ^.nd  child,  in  a  remote  situa> 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


250 


lion  in  Ireland.  But  John,  like  most  tyrants,  was  only  too  faithf  "'y  served 
by  his  spies;  the  unfortunate  baron  was  discovered,  and  although  he  con- 
trived to  escape  to  France,  both  his  wife  and  their  child  were  seized  and 
actually  starved  to  death  in  prison. 

Never  was  that  line  of  the  heathen  poet  which  says  that  "the  gods 
first  madden  those  whom  they  wish  to  destroy"  more  vividly  illustrated 
than  by  the  constant  addition  which,  by  tyrannies  of  this  kind,  John  was 
rapidly  making  to  the  general  hatred  of  his  people,  at  the  very  time 
when  he  was  aware  that  such  hatred  could  at  any  moment  have  been  al- 
lowed by  Rome  to  break  out  into  open  rebellion. 

For  though  the  papal  interdict,  with  all  its  severity  upon  the  unoffend- 
ing  people,  did  hot  release  them  from  their  allegiance  to  the  king  who  had 
called  tlown  that  severity  upon  their  heads,  the  next  step  was  excommu- 
nication, which,  as  John  well  knew,  put  an  end  to  allegiance,  and  would 
arm  many  a  hand  against  him  that  now  was  bound  by  "  that  divinity  which 
doth  hedge  a  king."  And  yet  this  inexplicable  man,  usually  so  cowardly, 
still  held  out  against  the  pope,  though  excommunication  was  certain  to 
fall  with  such  peculiar  severity  upon  him,  should  he  provoke  the  pope  to 
pronounce  it;  and  he  exerted  himself,  alike  in  his  rule  and  in  his  pas- 
time, to  increase  that  very  hate  from  which  much  of  its  peculiar  severity 
would  spring. 

The  patience  of  the  pope  was  at  length  exhausted,  or,  perhaps,  to  speak 
more  correctly,  his  policy  no  longer  required  delay,  and  the  terrible  sen- 
tence of  excommunication  was  issue  j.  But  even  now  there  was  no  formal 
absolution  of  the  people  from  their  oath  of  allegiance.  That  most  terrible 
step  of  all  the  pope  still  held  in  reserve,  as  a  last  resource,  being  'vwll 
aware  how  powerful  an  effect  the  ordinary  results  of  excommunicai  on 
were  calculated  to  have  upon  a  king  of  far  stronger  nerve  than  John  could 
boast ;  for  how  could  he  claim  to  be  served  with  zeal  and  fidelity  who 
was  thus  disclaimed  and  cut  off  by  the  church  1 

Scarcely  had  the  pope's  orders  been  obeyed  by  the  bishops  of  London 
Ely,  and  Worcester — those  very  prelates  upon  whom  John  had  formerly 
heaped  insult,  as  coarse  as  undeserved,  and  as  unbecoming  as  impolitic — 
when  a  specimen  was  exhibited  of  its  paralysing  effect  by  Geoffrey,  arch- 
deacon of  Norwich.  Like  most  of  the  great  churchmen  of  that  day,  h« 
held  a  judicial  situation,  and  he  wf  J  engapcd  in  its  duties  when  hi  re- 
ceived the  news,  upon  which  he  immediately  rose  and  left  the  court, 
observing  that  it  was  too  perilous  to'^ntinue  to  serve  an  excommunicated 
king.  This  prompt  abandonment  ol  the  archdeacon,  however,  cost  him 
his  life,  for  John  threw  him  into  prison,  had  a  large  leaden  cope  fitted 
tightly  to  his  head,  and  inflicted  othar  severit  es  upon  him  until  he  literally 
sank  under  fhem.  Warned,  perhaps,  by  this  severe  example,  other  clerical 
dignitaries,  though  quite  as  ready  to  abandon  their  detested  and  dangerous 
king,  took  care  to  place  themselves  beyond  his  reach  in  the  very  act  of 
abandonment.  Among  these  was  Hugh  de  Wells,  the  chancellor.  Being 
appointed  bishop  of  Winchester,  he  re(juested  leave  from  the  king  to  go 
to  Normandy  to  obtain  consecration  from  the  archbishop  of  Rouen  ;  but 
leave  being  granted,  he  went  not  thither,  but  to  Pontigny,  the  residence 
of  the  archbishop  Langton,  to  whom  he  paid  the  formal  submission  due 
from  a  suffragan  to  his  primate.  The  frequency  of  these  desertions 
among  both  the  prelates  and  the  lay  nobility  at  length  gave  the  king  very 
serious  alarm,  and  more  especially  as  he  received  but  too  probable  huits 
of  a  widely-spread  conspiracy  against  him,  in  which  he  knew  not  who 
among  those  who  still  remained  apparently  faithful  to  him  might  be  en- 
gaged. Now  th^-t  moderate  concession  could  no  longer  avail  him  ;  now 
that  his  nakedness  and  his  weakness  were  so  evident  to  his  foes  that  they 
would  richly  deserve  his  contempt  if  they  did  not  provide  his  violence 
'.rl*h  an  effectual  bridle  for  the  future,  even  (should  they  chose  to  show 


Mi  THB  TUEABUHY  OF  HISTORY. 

■omfl  noderation  iri  dealing  with  him  as  to  the  past ;  now,  In  a  word 
when  he  no  longer  had  it  in  his  power  to  negotiate  to  advantage,  John 
commenced  a  negotiation  with  the  hitherto  exiled  and  despised  liangton. 
A  meeting  accordingly  took  place  between  them  at  Dover,  and  Job'  of- 
fered to  submit  himself  to  the  pope,  to  receive  Laiigton  a»  primate,  to  re- 
instate  the  whole  of  the  exiled  clergy,  and  to  pay  a  certain  anin  in  com- 

fensation  of  the  rents  which  he  had  confiscuted.  But  these  terms,  which 
ohn  migb'  ^>ave  c  )mmanded  at  the  outset  of  the  dispute,  and  at  which, 
in  fact,  he  hid  then  manifested  such  childish  and  unbecoming  rage,  were 
far  too  favourable  to  be  allowed  him  now  that  Rome  had  at  imce  Ins  terroi 
and  his  helplessness  to  urge  her  to  severity.  Lan^ftcm  dcmamlcil  iliHt, 
iiisff<tid  of  a  certain  sum  in  the  way  of  compensation  fur  the  wrong  d(ine 
to  the  clergy,  .Tohn  should  pay  all  that  he  had  unjustly  ro(;eived,  and,  still 
further,  that  he  should  make  full  and  compbite  satisfaction  for  all  injuries 
suffered  by  the  clergy  in  const quence  of  their  exile  and  the  confiscation 
of  their  revenues.  It  was  less,  'ow,  from  unwillingness  to  make  peace 
with  Rome,  on  even  the  Kardjct  ^erms,  than  from  sheer  terror  at  the 
thought  of  having  to  collect  again  all  the  vast  sums  ho  had  wantonly  dis- 
sipated, and  of  having  still  further  to  find  money  for  damages  whicii  those 
wno  had  suffered  them  were,  of  all  men,  the  least  likely  to  undervalue, 
that  John  pronounced  it  impossible  for  him  to  comply  with  Langton's 
demands. 

A.  n.  1212. — The  pope,  who  most  probably  did  not  fully  appreciate  the 
extent  of  the  pecuniary  difficulties  which  caused  John  to  shrink  from 
Langton's  proposal,  now  solemnly  absolved  John's  subjects  from  their 
allegiance  to  him,  and  denounced  excommunication  upon  all  wlio  should 
venture  to  have  any  commerce  with  him,  at  the  council  board  or  in  the 
festive  hall,  in  private  or  in  public,  as  a  monarch  or  even  as  an  individual. 
As  even  this  terrible  severity,  by  which  the  most  powerful  men  could  be 
in  an  iiour  deprived  of  all  support  and  of  all  demonstration  of  affection, 
and  made — so  much  more  powerful  were  superstitious  fears  tliun  the 
urgings  of  either  duty  or  affection — desolate  and  shun"'>d  as  the  iwriali  of 
the  desert  or  the  Hebrew  leper,  did  not  instantly  force  John  to  subin  ssion. 
Innocent  followed  it  up  by  a  solemn  sentence  of  deposition. 

The  pontiffs  in  that  superstitious  age  were  wiser  in  their  generation 
than  the  lay  princes  with  whom  they  had  to  deal,  and  they  well  knew 
how  to  make  those  princes  each  the  instrument  of  the  other's  subjection. 
Accordingly,  on  this  occasion,  the  pope,  who  well  understood  the  ambi- 
tious character  of  the  king  of  France,  and  the  animosity  that  mutually  ex- 
isted between  J^^^n  and  Philip,  promised  the  latter  not  only  remission  of 
sins,  but  also  the  sovereignty,  as  a  vassal  of  the  popedom,  of  John's  king- 
dom of  England,  as  the  reward  of  his  invading  it  and  subduing  John. 

Philip  readily  consented  to  comply  with  the  pope's  wishes,  and  having 
levied  a  vast  force  atid  summoned  all  his  military  vassals  to  attend  and 
aid  him,  he  asseinbled  a  fleet  of  seventeen  hundred  sail  on  the  coast  of 
Normandy  and  Picardy,  and  prepared  for  the  immediate  and  effectual  in- 
vasion of  England. 

But  the  papal  court,  as  usual,  was  playing  a  double  and  an  interested 
game,  and  was  by  no  means  sincere  in  desiring  to  replace  on  the  throne 
of  England  a  despised  and  incapable  monarch,  like  John,  by  a  popular, 
warlike,  and  politic  one  like  Philip,  unless,  indeed,  the  terror  of  the  latter 
should,  as  was  by  no  means  probable,  fail  to  reduce  the  former  to 
submission. 

In  this  decidedly  tin  most  serious  of  all  his  perils  from  without,  John 
displayed  something  like  a  flash  of  the  high  and  daring  spirit  of  his  Nor- 
man race.  Issuing  orders  not  only  for  the  assembling  of  all  his  military 
vassals  at  Dover,  but  also  for  the  arming  and  preparation  of  every  man 
able  to  bear  arms  throughout  the  kingdom,  he  seemed  determined  either 


THE  TREASnaY  OF  HISTORY. 


961 


lemtion 
knew 
cction. 
!  ainbi- 
lUy  ex- 
ssidii  of 
s  king- 
in. 
having 
end  auil 
coast  of 
;tual  in- 
terested 
e  throne 
popular, 
e  latter 
rmer  to 

lut,  John 

lliis  Nor- 

mililary 

lery  man 

Id  eithex 


to  preserve  hi«  crown  or  l  «  in  defi-ni-e  of  it.  Bui  this  ti'i>i[>or!iry  j;leiini 
of  miirtial  ft'ciiiijj  purne  i(i.>  lute,  ainl  wiih  to;)  sItoiiKiy  opposed  l)y  his 
cra*«Mi  cotulurt  on  foriiitir  octaaioiiM  In  (>l)lain  him  any  Kcnrnii  sympathy 
arnoiiij  lii.s  [iciiplt!.  ||i!t  r.vr(»nimunicalioii  n\u\  his  gcmr.il  iinptt|nilarily 
threw  a  (iain|)  on  the  spirilM  (»f  tivcn  the  bravest  of  his  suhjcrts,  iiiul  the 
iiKi.st  ze.ilous  among  the  very  few  friends  whoni  hn  vices  h.nd  left  him 
ireinhletl  for  the  issue.  Nevertheless,  patri.jlic  feeling  in  some  and  habits 
of  feudal  obedience  in  others  caused  his  orders  to  be  obeyed  by  an  im- 
mense number,  from  whom  he  selected  for  imniediHte  service  the  largo 
force  of  sixty  thousand. 

Philip,  in  the  meantime,  though  anxious  iinmedi.itely  to  strike  tho  blow 
wliieii  promised  to  givfs  him  so  vast  a  prize,  was,  as  a  vassal  to  the  pope, 
kiul  directly  and  speeially  engaged  in  supporting  the  papal  authority, 
DbliKed  to  be  observant  of  the  directions  of  Pandoif,  the  pa|)al  legale,  to 
whoin  the  whole  eoiuluct  of  the  expedition  was  conunitted.  Pandoif,  well 
acquainted  with  the  real  and  occult  views  of  Innocent,  required  no  more 
df  IMiilip's  aid  after  that  prince  had  prepared  and  displayed  his  force. 
That  done,  Pandoif  sunnnoned  John  to  a  conference  at  Dover.  Pointing, 
on  the  one  hand,  to  the  immense  jMiwer  and  interested  zeal  of  Philip,  and, 
on  the  other,  to  those  peculiar  drawbacks  upon  the  efficient  action  of  the 
English  f(»rce,  of  which  J(»hn  was  already  b.ii  too  sensible,  the  legate, 
with  wdy  and  emphatic  eloquence,  urged  John,  liy  a  speedy  and  complete 
submission  to  the  pope,  to  embrace  the  only  means  of  safety  that  now  re- 
maineil  open  to  him;  excommunicated  by  the  jiope,  on  the  eve  of  being 
altack(!(l  by  his  mighty  and  vindictive  rival  of  France,  and  secretly  haled 
by  his  own  vassals,  who  were  not  in  all  unlikely  openly  to  desert  him 
upon  the  day  of  battle.  The  statements  of  the  legate  were  true,  and  John, 
who  knew  them  to  be  so,  passed  in  an  instant  from  the  extreme  of  bra- 
vado and  obstinacy  to  an  equally  extreme  and  far  more  disgusting  humil- 
ity and  obedience.  John  now  promised  the  most  entire  submission  to 
the  pope;  the  acknowledgement  of  Langton  as  archbishop  of  Canterbury; 
the  restoration  of  all,  whether  clergy  or  laymen,  whom  he  had  banished 
on  account  of  this  long  and  unfortunate  dispute  ;  restitution  of  all  goods 
and  revenues  that  had  been  confiscated,  and  full  payment  of  all  damages 
done  by  the  confiscation ;  and  an  iinnii  Hate  payment  of  eight  thousand 
pounds  on  account,  together  with  an  immediate  acceptance  to  his  grace 
and  favour  of  all  who  had  suffered  in  Ihein  for  adhering  to  the  pope.  To 
all  these  terms  the  king  swore  agreemeiu,  and  four  of  his  great  barons 
also  swore  to  cause  his  faithful  compliance.  From  the  instant  that  Pan- 
doif got  the  king  to  agree  to  these  degrading  conditions,  the  whole  right 
and  merit  of  the  quarrel  was  substantially  and  unalterably  assigned  to 
Rome  by  the  king's  own  solemn  confession ;  and  this  point  Pandoif  was, 
for  obvious  reasons,  anxious  to  secure  prior  to  running  the  risk  of  stinging 
and  startling  even  John's  dastard  spirit  into  desperation.  But  having  thus 
made  the  king  virtually  confess  that  his  share  in  the  quarr^  1  was  such  as 
10  disentitle  him  to  the  support  of  his  friends  and  subji  '.ts,  Pandoif  wholly 
thiew  off  the  mask,  and  showed  John  how  much  more  of  the  biiter  draught 
of  degradation  he  still  had  to  swallow. 

John  had  sworn  humble  and  complete  obedience  to  liio  pope ;  he  was 
now  required,  as  the  first  convincing  proof  of  that  obedience,  to  resign  his 
kingdom  to  the  church  ;  an  act  of  obedience  which  he  was  assured  was 
his  most  effectual  mode  -if  protecting  his  kingdom  against  Philip,  who 
would  not  dare  to  attack  \*,  when  placed  under  the  immediate  guardianship 
and  <!uslody  of  Rome.  John  had  now  gone  too  far  to  recede  from  that 
degradation  which  made  him  forever  the  mere  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual 
vissal  of  haughty  and  overreaching  Rome.  He  therefore  subscribejj  a 
charier,  in  which,  professing  to  be  under  no  restraint,  he  solemnly  re 
nouacod  England  and  Ireland  to  Pope  Innocent  and  his  apostolic  sue- 


f 


HI  THE  THRAAUKY  OV  HISTORY. 

ceiiorfl,  and  ngn-txl  tlienccrortli  to  liold  tlinn  iil  tlin  <i""'inl  runt  of  a  thud- 
■anil  mnrkn,  uh  reiidatory  <>(  the  pajial  tliruiie  ;  biiiilj'  y,  M«  .ToXi'^HorH  aa 
well  UN  liiinsvir  to  tin-  <lui!  lurroriimiicr  of  Miiit  cuiiilili<  :,,  u.i  puiii  d(  iibso- 
lut(>  rorfoiturc  in  tlic  <;voiii  of  irn{iciiitciit  diHulxHlitMici!.  Kveii  thu  Hi}{iuiig 
of  this  dcgradiiiff  ngrcfMiieiit  waH  not  allowed  to  tertniimtr!  JuJiu'a  dt^ep 
humiliation.  IIu  wua  cuninelled,  in  opiMi  court,  to  do  hoinagr  ni  {\u-  iissnul 
feudal  form  to  I'uiid  •  f  as  tliu  repri'Hintutive  of  the  pope,  and  at  the  saniu 
time  to  pay  in  advanee  a  portion  of  the  triltute,  upon  whieh  the  l<'({ato 
trampled  in  opiMi  ticorn.  And,  no  much  had  Jolin*M  miHconduet  degraded 
hin  brave  subJectH  uh  well  as  himself,  that,  with  the  single  exception  of 
the  archbishop  of  Dublin,  no  one  present  had  the  spirit  tu  resent  Paiidolf '• 
rude  and  impolitic  behaviour. 

After  Joliii  had  submitted  to  all  this  ignominy,  he  was  still  compelled 
to  feel  himself  dependent  upon  the  very  doubtful  generosity  of  Home;  for 
Pandolf  refused  to  remove  the  interdict  and  exconwnnnication  till  tlu^ 
damages  of  the  clergy  should  be  both  estimated  and  paid.  Yet  even  in 
this  terrible  and  galling  state  of  his  fortunes  John  relaxed  not  from  hisi 
tyranny  to  hiH  subjects.  An  enthusiast  or  impostor,  named  Peter  of 
Pomfret,  a  liermil,  had  in  one  of  his  rhapsodies  prophesied  that  the  kinu: 
would  this  year  lose  his  crown,  a  prophecy  which  had  been  likely  enough 
to  be  acconijdished  in  any  one  of  many  preceding  years.  This  man,  and 
his  son  as  his  aircomplicc  or  abettor,  were  tried  as  impostors ;  and  though 
the  hermit  stoutly  maintained  that  the  king's  surrender  to  Rome,  and  the 
vassalage  in  which  he  had  now  consented  to  hold  his  formerly  indepen 
dent  crown,  verified  the  prophecy,  they  were  both  dragged  at  horses'  heels 
to  the  gallows  and  there  hanged. 

John,  the  baseness  of  whose  temper  made  him  callous  to  many  reilec- 
tions  which  Avould  have  stung  a  prouder  and  more  honourable  man  al- 
most to  madness,  was,  amid  all  his  degradation,  less  to  be  pitied  just  now 
than  the  duped  and  baffled  Philip.  His  rage  on  learning  that  his  expen- 
sive display  of  force  had  only  served  the  purpose  of  drivmg  John  into  the 
protection  of  the  pope,  could  scarcely  be  kept  within  either  safe  or  decent 
bounds.  He  bitterly  complained  of  the  insincere  offers  and  promises  by 
which  he  had  been  gulled  into  un  outlay  of  sixty  thousand  pounds ;  and, 
his  indignation  being  shared  by  his  barons,  he  went  so  far  as  to  declare 
that  not  even  the  pope's  protection  should  save  England  from  him.  It 
indeed  seemed  probable,  that  he  would  at  all  risks  have  invaded  England 
but  for  the  influence  and  intrigue  of  the  earl  of  Flanders,  who,  being  in  a 
secret  confederacy  with  John,  loudly  protested  against  the  impiety  of 
attacking  a  state  that  was  now  become  a  part  of  St.  Peter's  patrimony. 
Shrewdly  judging  that  the  earl  would  follow  up  his  words  by  correspond- 
ing deeds,  Philip  resolved  to  chastise  him  ;  but  whil«  he  was  engaged  in 
80  doing,  his  fleet  was  attacked  by  John's  natural  brother,  the  earl  of  Salis- 
bury, so  that  Philip  deevied  it  the  wisest  plan  to  lay  aside  his  meditated 
attack  upon  England,  at  least  for  the  present. 

John,  as  easily  elated  as  depressed,  was  so  puffed  up  by  his  novel  safety 
accompanied  though  it  was  by  so  much  ignominy,  that  "he  boasted  his  in- 
tention to  invade  France.  But  he  was  met  on  the  part  of  his  barons  with 
cold  and  contemptuous  refusal  to  take  part  in  his  enterprise ;  and  when, 
in  the  hope  of  shaming  them  into  joining  him,  he  sailed  with  only  his 
personal  followers  as  far  as  the  island  of  Jersey,  he  had  the  mortification 
of  being  compelled  to  return,  not  one  of  the  barons  having  so  far  relented 
as  to  follow  him.  On  his  return  he  threatened  to  chastise  them  for  theii 
want  of  obedience  ;  but  here  he  was  met  by  the  archbishop  Langton,  who 
reminded  him  that  he  was  but  the  vassal  of  Rome,  and  threatened  him 
with  the  most  signal  punishment  if  he  ventired  to  ?evy  war  upon  any  oi 
bis  subjects. 
Rome  removed  the  infliction  upon  John  and  his  kingdom  to  the  full  ai 


THE  TllKABURY  OK  KlMTOaV. 

gradually  as  aho  lud  laid  tliuin  oii{  but  iii  the  mid  the  popn  hima«ir  inter* 
rered  tu  prutoet  him  against  the  extortion  of  the  clergy,  and  cuininandcd 
ihem  to  take  Torty  thousand  markH  instead  o(  a  hundred  thousand,  which 
John  had  ofTerod,  and  instead  of  the  infamously  excessive  sum  beyond  that 
which  they  hud  rated  their  losses  at. 

In  the  end,  the  king's  submissive  behaviour  and  his  uisbursemcnt  of 
.arge  smnn  of  money  procured  the  interdict  to  bo  removed  from  his  king* 
(lorn  ;  and  ih*!  prelates  and  superior  clergy  having  received  their  damages, 
the  inferior  clergy  were  left  to  console  themselves  as  they  best  niiKht 
without  any  repayment  at  all ;  Nicholas,  bishop  of  Frescati,  who  was 
now  legate  in  Kngland  instead  of  Pandolf,  allowing  himself  more  favour-^ 
able  to  John  than  his  predecessors  had  been. 

A.  D  1214.— Not  deterred  by  the  evident  dislike  of  his  barons,  and  then 
determination  never  to  assist  him  when  they  could  make  any  valid  excuse, 
John  now  proceeded  to  Poictou,  and  his  authority  being  still  held  in  re- 
spect there,  he  was  enabled  to  carry  the  war  into  Philip's  territory.  But 
before  John  had  well  commenced  his  depredations  ho  was  routed  by 
Philip's  son,  young  Prince  I.ouis,  and  fled  in  terror  to  England,  to  engage 
once  more  in  his  congenial  task  of  oppressing  his  subjects.  For  this 
amiable  pursuit  he  deemed  that  his  submission  to  Rome  had  furnished 
him  with  full  immunity;  but  mortifications  of  the  most  severe  description 
were  still  in  store  for  him.  The  barons,  shocked  out  of  even  their  feudal 
notions  of  submission,  became  clamorous  for  the  practical  and  formal 
establishment  of  the  liberties  and  privileges  which  had  boon  promised  to 
them  by  both  Henry  I.  and  Henry  H.  In  their  demands  Ihey  were  much 
backed  and  aided  by  Archbishop  Langton;  less,  it  would  seem  pretty 
clear,  from  any  genuine  patriotism  on  his  part,  than  from  old  detestation 
of  John,  exacerbated  and  festered  by  the  obstinacy  with  which  ho  had 
res'Gied  Langton's  admission  to  the  primacy.  At  a  private  meeting  of 
the  most  zealous  of  the  barons,  Langton  not  only  encouraged  them  by  his 
own  eloquent  advice,  but  also  produced  a  copy  of  the  charter  of  Henry  I., 
which  he  had  rummaged  out  of  some  monastic  crypt,  and  urged  them  to 
make  tiiat  the  guide  and  basis  of  their  demands,  and  to  persevere  until 
those  demands  were  both  fully  and  securely  conceded  to  them.  Perceiv- 
ing the  effect  of  this  conduct,  he  repeated  it  at  another  and  more  numerous 
meeting  of  the  batons  at  St.  Edmund's  Bury  in  Suffolk  ;  and  the  charter, 
supported  by  its  own  vivid  eloquence,  so  wrought  upon  the  barons,  that 
ere  they  separated  they  solemnly  swore  to  be  true  to  each  other,  and 
never  to  cease  to  make  war  upon  their  faithless  and  tyrannical  king  until 
he  should  grant  their  just  demands.  This  done  they  separated,  after 
fixing  upon  a  day  for  their  reunion  to  commence  their  open  and,  if  need 
be,  armed  advocacy  of  their  cause. 

A.  D.  1215. — On  the  given  day  they  punctually  met,  and  demanded  their 
rights,  as  promised  by  his  own  oath  and  as  laid  down  in  the  charter 
of  Henry  I.  Alarmed  at  their  union,  John  promised  that  they  should  be 
answered  on  the  following  Easter ;  and  the  primate  with  the  bishop  of  Ely 
and  the  earl  of  Pembroke  becoming  surety  for  the  performance  of  the 
king's  words,  the  barons  contentedly  retired  to  their  castles. 

B'lt  John  had  sought  delay,  not  for  the  purpose  of  considering  the  nature 
and  propriety  of  the  demands,  but  for  that  of  finding,  if  possible,  some 
means  by  which  at  once  to  baulk  the  barons  and  to  be  avenged  of  them. 
Having  experienced  to  his  cost  the  power  of  Rome,  he  thought  his  best 
way  to  baffle  his  nobles  was  to  conciliate  the  church,  to  which  he  volun- 
tarily made  many  concessions  and  compliments  ;  one  of  the  former  being 
his  voluntary  relinquishment  of  that  right  to  investiture  which  the  pre- 
vious Norman  kings  had  so  stoutly  battled  for,  and  one  of  the  latter,  an 
equally  voluntary  proffer  and  promise  to  lead  an  army  against  the  infidels 
in  the  Holy  Land ;  and,  to  signify  his  entire  sincerity  upon  this  last  point, 


ie4 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


he  at  once  assumed  the  Cross.  Both  from  John's  urgency  for  his  protec 
tion  and  from  the  counter  and  no  less  urgent  instances  of  the  barons,  the 
pope  was  excited  to  much  alarm  abou;  England,  for  the  peace  and  pros- 
perity of  which  he  had,  since  John  basely  became  his  vassal,  coiiceived  a 
son  of  paternal  interest.  Knowing  full  well  how  much  more  difficult  it 
would  be  to  deal  witii  the  power  of  England  under  the  bold  barons  than 
under  a  despised  and  weak  prince  like  John,  it  was  obviously  to  ihe  in- 
terest of  Innocent  to  uphold  the  latter  as  far  as  possible  against  the  former, 
and  lie  therefore  issued  a  bull,  in  which  he  characterised  the  proceedings 
of  the  barons  as  illegal  and  treasonable;  forbade  them,  under  pain  ol 
excommunication,  from  persisting  in  their  demands ;  and  enjoined  John, 
under  tlie  same  penalty,  not  to  comply  with  them. 

The  primate,  being  in  favour  of  the  barons,  refused  to  give  formal 
publicity  to  this  bull;  and  though  he  was  suspended  for  his  conduct  in 
tliis  respect;  the  failure  of  the  bull  was  not  the  less  insured ;  and  thus  a 
new  proof  was  afforded  how  much  the  pope's  power  depended  upon  the 
extent  and  cordiality  of  the  co-operation  of  the  rest  of  the  church.  But 
thpugh  the  pope  and  the  king  thus  exerted  themselves  to  defeat  the  barons, 
the  latter  succeeded  in  wresting  from  the  king  that  well  known  declara- 
tion of  rights  and  definition  of  prerogative  known  as  Magna  Charla^  or  the 
Great  Charter — a  document  which  we  need  not  insert  here,  on  account  ol 
its  general  notoriety.  But  no  charter  or  Treement  coi  J  bind  the  king; 
he  introduced  foreign  mercenaries,  besieged  and  took  K  Chester  castle, 
and  barbarously  put  all  but  the  very  highest  of  the  garrison  to  death,  and 
then  carried  fire  and  sword  into  the  towns  and  villages  throughout  Eng- 
land. The  barons,  chiefly  from  some  faults  or  omissions  on  their  own 
part,  were  reduced  to  such  straits,  that  they  ventured  in  the  unpatriotic, 
and  dangerous  expedient  of  offering  the  crown  of  England  to  Prince  Louis, 
son  of  Philip  of  France. 

A.  D.  121G. — The  prince  accordingly  landed  in  England  with  a  large 
force,  in  spite  of  the  menaces  and  orders  of  the  pope  ;  John  was  deserted 
by  the  foreigners  upon  whom  he  chiefly  depended,  and  who,  though  wil- 
ling enough  to  slaughter  his  English  subjects,  were  naturally  unwilling  to 
fight  against  their  own  native  prince.  Most  of  the  English  nobility  who 
had  heretofore  sided  with  John,  now  deserted  him ;  town  after  town,  and 
castle  after  castle,  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies ;  and  everything 
seemed  to  threaten  him,  wlien  a  report,  true  or  false,  got  currency,  that 
Louis  merely  used  the  English  nobles  as  his  tools,  and  would  execute 
them  as  traitors  whenever  his  success  should  be  complete.  This  report 
had  visibly  turned  the  scale  once  more  in  favour  of  John.  Several 
nobles  returned  to  their  allegiance,  and  he  was  rapidly  collecting  power- 
ful forces  to  combat  for  his  kingdom,  when  a  heavy  loss  of  treasure  anc* 
baggage,  which  occured  as  he  was  passing  towards  Lincoln,  so  much  ag 
gravated  an  illness  under  which  he  already  laboured,  that  he  expired  at 
Newark,  on  Uie  17th  of  October,  1216,  in  the  forty  ninth  year  of  his  age, 
and  in  the  eighteenth  of  his  agitated,  mischievous,  and  inglorious  reign. 

It  was  in  this  reign  that  the  citizens  of  London  first  were  privileged  an- 
nually and  from  their  own  body  to  choose  their  mayor  and  common  coun- 
cil, and  to  elect  and  discharge  their  sheriffs  at  pleasure  Of  the  king's 
character  no  summary  is  needed ;  both  as  man  and  as  sovereign  he  is 
but  too  forcibly  depicted  in  the  evests  of  which  we  have  giv""  a  brief,  but 
Rcnplete  and  impartial  account. 


THK  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


96ft 


hower- 
\e  ani' 
jch  ag 
Ered  at 
Is  age, 
1  reign, 
led  an- 


CHAPTKR  XXIII. 

THE    RKIO.N    OF    HK.NRT    Ml. 

A.B  1216.— ATthe  death  of  John  Ins  eldest  son,  I  Feiiry,  was  only  mne  year> 
old ;  but.  happily  he  had  in  the  earl  >)f  Peinhroke  a  friend  and  guardian  who 
was  both  able  and  willing  to  prevent  his  infancy  from  being  any  disad 
vantage  to  him  :  and  Loms  of  Fnince,  who  expi'cted  to  derive  great  bene- 
Si  from  the  death  of  John,  found,  on  the  contrary,  that  very  circumstance 
most  injurious  to  him. 

Immediately  after  the  king's  death,  tlie  earl  of  Pembroke  took  every 
necessary  precaution  on  behalf  of  the  young  prince.     He  had  him  crowned 
immediately  after  the  funeral,  and  caused  him  |)ublicly  to  s.vear  fealty  to 
the  pope;  measures  most  important  towards  insuring  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  people,  on  the  one  hand,  and  liie  support  of  Rome,  on  the  other.    Still 
farther  to  increase  the  popularity  of  the  young  king,  tlie  earl  of  Pembroke, 
now  regularly  authorized  with  the  title  of  protector  of  the  realm,  confer- 
red upoii  him  by  a  great  council,  issued  in  his  name  a  new  charter,  chiefly 
founded  on  ihal  which  John  had  granted  and  broken  through ;  and  sub- 
sequently he  added  several  still  more  popular  articles  to  it,  disaforesting 
much  of  the  vast  quantity  of  land  which  had  arbitrarily  been  enclosed  by 
Richard  and  John,  and  substituting  fine  and  imprisonment  for  the  more 
cruel  punishments  which  had  heretofore  been  awarded  for  forest  olTences, 
While  active  in  taking  these  general  measures  to  secure  the  alTections 
of  the  people,  the  earl  did  not  omit  to  exert  his  individual  inlluence  to  de- 
tach the  barons  who  had  sided  with  Louis,     lie  pointed  out,  with  admirn 
ble  tact,  the  vast  difference  between  fighting  against  a  sovereign  of  mature 
years  who  had  wronged  and  insulted  ilvem,  and  warring  against  an  infant    . 
prince  of  the  race  of  their  ancient  monarcl\s,  to  set  up  in  his  place  the  son 
of  the  French  king;  he  dwelt  upon  the  good  measures  which  had  already 
been  effected  by  the  government  of  the  infant  king,  and  besought  them  to 
take  the  favourable  opportunity  now  offered,  of  abandoning  the  cause  of 
Louis,  which  was  unjust  in  itself,  anathematized  by  the  pope,  and  had 
hitherto  been  as  singularly  unfortunate  as  it  was  obviously  nnblessed.  The 
character  of  Pembroke  was  so  high  that  his  remonstrances  had  a  great 
effect  on  those  to  whom  tney  were  addressed.     Many  barons  forthwith 
abandoned  Louis,  and  carried  over  their  strengtli  to  their  native  prince ; 
and  many  more,  though  not  yet  quite  prepared  to  go  all  that  length,  enter- 
ed into  a  correspondence  with  Pembroke  which  sli"/ed  their  leaning  that 
way.     Louis  added  to  this  leaning  by  the  impolitic  openness  with  which 
he  evinced  his  distrust  of  the  English.    Robert  Fitz-Waller,  that  power- 
ful noble  under  whom  all  the  barons  of  England  had  thought  it  no  dis- 
grace to  range  themselves  when  they  commenced  the  struggle  with  the 
tyrant  John,  applied  to  Louis  for  the  government  of  the  castle  of  Hertford, 
and  was   refused,  although  lie  had  a  personal  claim  upon  the  fortress. 
With  su(!h  an  example  before  their  eyes,  how  could  the  barons  help  feel- 
ing that  he  was,  indeed,  making  mere  tools  of  Ihemi 

Louis  being  obliged,  by  the  great  losses  he  had  sustained,  to  t^c  inio 
France  for  reinforcements,  afforded  the  doubtful  an  opportunity  to  return 
to  their  allegiance  and  join  Pembroke,  who  at  length  laid  siege  to  Lincola 
city,  which  was  garrisoned  by  the  French  under  Count  Perche,  who  in 
their  turn  hemmed  in  and  besieged  the  PLiglLsh  garrison  of  Lincoln  castle. 
\  sally  from  the  castle  was  made  at  the  same  moment  that  Pembroke  and 
his  troops  mounted  to  the  assault  of  the  town  ;  and  so  complete  was  the 
success  of  the  English  on  this  occasion,  that  the  fate  of  the  kingdom  may 
be  said  to  have  depended  on  the  issue. 

When  Pembroke  oljtaincd  this  great  advantage  Ljuis  was  besieging 
Dover  castle,  which  was  as  ably  as  obstinately  defended  by  Hubert  de 
Burgh;  and  on  hearing  the  tidings  from  Lincoln  he  hastened  to  London. 


260 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HlfJTORY. 


where  the  fartlier  ill  news  awaited  him  of  the  defeat  and  dispersion  ot  a 
French  fleet  which  was  bringing  him  over  reinforcements. 

These  two  events  caused  new  desertions  of  the  English  barons  to  Pern 
broke ;  and  instead  of  entertaining  farther  hope  of  winning  the  English 
crown,  Louis  now  thought  only  of  securing  a  safe  and  speedy  departure 
from  a  kingdom  in  which  he  had  met  with  so  many  misfortunes ;  he  ac- 
cordingly agreed  to  evacuate  the  kingdom  forthwith,  upon  the  sole  con- 
dition that  neither  in  property  nor  in  liberties  should  those  barons  who 
had  adhered  to  his  cause  be  made  to  aulTer  for  that  adherence. 

The  protector  readily  agreed  to  so  easy  a  condition  ;  and  the  civil  war 
being  thus  happily  terminated,  Pembroke,  as  regarded  the  lay  barons  who 
had  supported  Louis,  fully  performed  his  part  of  the  agreement,  not  only 
restoring  them  to  their  possessions,  but  also  taking  every  opportunity  to 
show  that  their  former  conduct  was  not  allowed  to  have  the  slightest  weight 
in  preventing  favour  or  preferment  from  reaching  them.  For  the  clerical 
rebels  a  far  severer  fate  was  in  store.  As  far  as  regarded  the  merely  civil 
portions  of  their  offence  Pembroke  molested  none  of  them ;  but  Gualo,  the 
pope's  legate,  dealt  somewhat  more  sternly  for  the  contempt  and  disobedi- 
ence with  which,  in  spite  of  the  interdict  and  excommunication,  they  had 
dared  to  continue  to  support  Louis.  In  so  numerous  a  body  of  men  it  was 
obviously  impossible  but  that  there  should  be  degrees  of  guilt ;  and  ac- 
cordingly, while  some  where  deposed,  others  were  only  suspended ;  some 
were  banished,  but  all,  whatever  their  degree  of  guilt,  had  to  pay  a  fine  to 
the  legate,  to  whom  this  wholesale  chastisement  of  the  erring  clerks 
produced  an  immense  sum. 

The  earl  of  Pembroke,  to  whom  the  peace  was  so  greatly  owing,  died 
soon  after  its  conclusion,  and  the  protectorate  passed  into  the  hands  of 
Hubert  de  Burgh,  the  justiciary,  and  Peter  des  Roches,  bishop  of  Win- 
chester. Though  the  former,  who  took  the  chief  part  in  the  government, 
was  a  great  and  able  man,  he  had  not  that  personal  reputation  among  the 
barons  which  had  been  enjoyed  by  the  earl  of  Pembroke,  and  which  had 
chiefly  enabled  that  nobleman  to  curb  the  evil  dispositions  which  now 
broke  forth  into  full  and  fell  activity,  insulting  the  royal  authority,  and 
everywhere  pillaging  and  coercing  the  people.  Among  the  most  dis- 
orderly of  these  was  the  earl  of  Albemarle.  He  had  served  under  Louis, 
but  had  quickly  returned  to  his  duty  and  distinguished  himself  in  fighting 
against  the  French.  His  disorderly  conduct  in  the  north  of  England  now 
became  so  notorious  and  so  mischievous,  that  Hubert  de  Burgh,  though 
greatly  averse  to  harsh  measures  against  those  powerful  nobles  whose 
future' favour  might  be  of  such  important  consequence  to  his  young  king, 
seized  upon  the  castle  of  Rockingham,  which  the  earl  had  filled  with  his 
licentious  soldiery.  The. earl,  supported  by  Favvkes  de  Breaut^  and  other 
warlike  and  turbulent  barons,  fortified  the  castle  of  Bilham,  put  himself 
upon  his  open  defence,  and  seized  upon  the  castle  of  Fotheringay  ;  and  it 
seemed  not  unlikely  that  the  daring  and  injustice  of  this  one  man  would 
again  kindle  the  so  lately  extinguished  flames  of  civil  war.  Fortunp.iejy, 
Pandolf,  who  was  now  restored  to  the  legantine  power  in  England,  was 
present  to  take  a  part  on  behalf  of  the  constituted  luthorities.  He  issued 
a  sentence  of  excommunication  not  only  against  Albemarle,  but  also  in 
general  terms  against  all  who  should  adhere  to  that  nobleman's  cause ;  and 
an  army,  with  means  of  paying  it,  were  provided.  The  promptitude  and 
vigour  of  these  measures  so  alarmed  Albemarle's  adherents,  that  he  was 
on  the  instaiit  deserted  by  the  most  powerful  of  them,  and  saw  nothing 
left  but  to  sue  for  the  king's  pardon,  which  was  not  only  granted  him  as 
regarded  his  person,  but  he  was  at  the  same  time  restored  to  his  'vhole 
estate. 

It  was  probably  the  confidence  of  being,  in  the  last  resort,  able  to  in- 
sure himself  a  like  impolitic  degree  of  lenity,  that  encouraged  Fawkes 


y'»-t 


THE  XaSASUaY  OF  HISTORY. 


967 


to  in- 
fawkes 


(^  BrcautS  to  treat  the  government  with  a  most  unheard-of  insolence  and 
contempt.  Havii.g  been  raised  from  alow  origin  bv  King  John,  whom  he 
followed  in  the  discreditable  capacity  of  a  military  ouUy,  this  man  carried 
the  conduct  and  manners  of  his  original  station  into  tiie  higher  fortune  to 
which  he  had  attained,  and  was  among  the  most  turbulent  and  unman- 
ageable of  all  the  barons. 

To  desire  a  freehold,  and  forcibly  to  expel  the  rightful  owner  and  take 
possession,  were  with  him  but  one  and  the  same  thing;  and  for  literal 
robberies  of  this  summary  and  wholesale  description,  no  fewer  than  thir- 
ty-five verdicts  were  recorded  against  him  at  oue  time.  Far  from  being 
abashed  or  alarmed  by  such  a  plurality  of  crime,  Fawkes  marched  a  body 
of  his  staunchest  disorderlies  to  the  court  of  justice  which  was  then  sit- 
ting, seized  upon  his  bench  the  judge  who  had  ventured  to  dei.ide  against 
so  potent  an  offender,  and  actually  imprisoned  that  judicial  dignitary  in 
Bedford  castle.  Having  gone  to  this  extent,  Fawkes  couid  have  but  little 
compunction  about  going  still  farther,  and  he  openly  and  in  Torm  levied 
war  upon  the  king.  But  he  had  now  gone  to  the  full  length  of  his  tether; 
he  was  opposed  so  vigorously  that  his  followers  were  soon  put  to  the 
rout,  and  he,  being  taken  prisoner,  was  punished  by  confiscation  and  ban- 
ishment. 

A.  D.  1222. — In  this  year  a  riot  broke  out  in  the  metropolis.  Com- 
mencing in  some  petty  dispute  that  occurred  during  a  wi  jstling  match 
between  a  portion  of  the  rabble  of  London  and  Westminste ',  it  at  length 
rose  to  a  desperate  and  dangerous  tumult,  in  the  course  of  which  several 
persons  were  much  hurt,  and  some  houses  were  plundered  and  demolished. 
These  houses  belonging  to  so  important  a  person  as  the  abbot  of  West- 
minster, that  circumstance  alone  would  probably  have  caused  the  riot  to 
be  looked  upon  in  a  serious  light  at  court.  But  it  farther  appeared,  that 
in  the  course  of  the  conflict  the  combatants  on  either  or  both  sides  had 
been  heard  to  use  the  French  war-cry  "Mountjoy  St.  Denis!"  and  the  re- 
cent attempt  by  Louis  upon  the  English  crown  caused  the  use  of  this 
war-cry  to  give  to  an  ordinary  riot  something  of  the  aspect  of  a  political 
and  treasonable  attempt;  and  Hubert,  tiie  justiciary,  personally  took  cog- 
nizance of  the  matter.  The  ringleader,  Constantino  Fitz-Arnulf,  behaved 
with  much  self-possession  and  audacity  when  before  the  justiciary,  and 
was  forthwith  led  out  from  his  presence  and  hanged ;  while  several  of 
those  whose  guilt  was  confessedly  less  heinous  had  their  feet  amputated; 
an  awful  severity  under  any  possible  cin'.umstarsces — how  much  more 
so  when  contrasted  with  the  lenity  shown  to  su  '  operate  an  offender  as 
Fawkes  de  BreautS ! 

Shortly  after  this  affair,  which  was  much  complained  of  as  being  con- 
trary to  the  Great  Charter,  Hubert  procured  a  bull  from  the  pope,  pro- 
nouncing the  king  of  full  age  to  govern.  He  then  resigiied  into  the  young 
king's  hands  the  Tower  of  London  antl  Dover  castle,  which  had  been 
entrusted  to  him ;  and  having  by  this  exui^sple  acquired  the  greater  right 
to  demand  at  the  hands  of  other  nobles  a  similar  strengtlsening  of  the 
much-impaired  power  of  the  crown,  he  formally  did  so.  But  the  barons 
of  that  day  were  like  the  rake  of  a  later  dramatist;  they  "could  admire 
virtue,  but  could  not  imitate  it."  All  murmured,  most  refused  to  comply, 
and  many,  among  whom  were  the  earls  of  Chester  and  Albemarle,  John, 
constable  of  Chester,  John  de  Lacy,  and  William  de  Courtel,  absolutely 
met  in  arms  at  Waltham  and  prepared  to  march  in  hostile  array  upon 
London.  But  before  they  had  time  to  commence  this  actual  levying  of 
civil  war  they  had  tidings  that  the  king  was  prepared  to  outnumber  and 
defeat  them.  They,  theref'-re,  abandoned  their  design,  and  appeared  at 
court,  whither  they  were  summoned  to  answer  for  their  conduct.  Bui 
though,  as  a  matter  of  prudence,  they  had  laid  aside  the  design  of  levying 
absoluio  war  upon  their  sovereign,  they  made  no  profession  of  repent- 


268 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HI8T0R 


ance.  On  the  contrary,  while  they  eagerly  disavowed  any  personal  hos- 
tility to  tlie  king  himstif,  they  eiiuaily  admitted  that  they  were  hostile  to 
Hubert,  and  that  they  were  still  as  determined  as  ever  to  insist  iijwn  his 
removal  from  his  power  and  authority.  They  were  too  numerous  and 
potent  to  be  subjected  to  the  punishment  which  their  insolent  sedition 
merited  ;  and  probably  it  was  their  perception  of  that  as  the  real  cause  of 
their  being  suffered  to  retire  unscathed  from  court  after  so  open  a  decla- 
ration of  their  hostility  to  Hubert,  that  encouraged  them  very  shortly 
afterwards  to  hold  another  armed  meeting  at  Leicester.  Here  again  they 
determined  that  the  king,  then  resident  at  Northampton,  was  too  strong 
and  too  well  prepared  to  allow  of  their  seizing  upon  liis  person,  which, 
despite  their  former  disclaimer,  it  was  all  along  their  desire  to  do.  But, 
as  if  watching  for  some  relaxation  of  the  vigilance  of  the  justiciary,  or 
some  diminution  of  the  royal  lorces,  they  kept  together  under  the  pre- 
tence of  celebrating  Christmas.  As  it  was  evident  that  mischief  would 
speedily  occur  to  both  king  and  people,  unless  these  bold  b;id  men  were 
stopped  before  they  had  encouraged  each  other  loo  far,  the  archbishop  and 
the  prelates  sternly  remonstrated  with  them,  and  threatened  them  with 
immediate  excommunication  as  the  penalty  of  their  longer  delaying  their 
submission  to  the  king  and  the  disbanding  of  their  hostile  array.  Most 
of  the  castles  were,  upon  this  threat,  given  up  to  the  king,  and  we  may 
judge  how  necessary  a  step  Hubert  had  taken  on  behalf  oi  his  young 
sovereign,  when  we  read  that  there  were  in  England  at  that  lime  no  less 
than  eleven  hundred  and  fifteen  of  these  castles.  When  Hubert's  just  and 
wise  design  was  fulfilled,  the  king  restored  to  that  faithful  subject  and 
servant  the  fortresses  he  had  surrendered,  and  this  restoration  was  bitterly 
complained  of  by  the  factious  barons,  who  chose  not  to  perceive  the  im- 
mense difference  between  fortresses  held  for  the  king  and  fortresses  held 
against  him. 

Parliament  having  granted  the  king  a  fifteenth,  he  was  obliged  to  employ 
it  in  carrying  on  war  against  France,  in  spite  of  the  disaffected  state  of 
so  many  of  his  most  powerful  subjects.  For  Henry  having  demanded 
the  restitution  of  his  ancestral  Normandy,  Louis  VIH.  was  so  f;ir  from 
making  that  restitution,  that  he  made  a  sudden  attack  upon  Poictou,  be- 
sieged and  took  Rochelle,  and  showed  an  evident  determination  to  deprive 
the  English  of  their  very  small  remaining  continental  territory.  The 
king  sent  over,  as  his  lieutenants,  his  brother  the  earl  of  Cornwall,  and 
his  uncle  the  earl  of  Salisbury,  who  succeeded  in  preventing  any  farther 
progress  on  the  part  of  Louis,  and  in  keeping  the  vassals  of  Oascony 
and  Poictou  in  obedience;  and,  after  two  years'  stay  in  France,  during 
which  the  military  operations  amounted  to  nothing  higher  than  what  mod- 
ern generals  would  term  a  skirmish,  the  earl  of  Cornwall  returned  to 
England. 

A.  D.  1227. — Though  Richard,  earl  of  Cornwall,  seems  to  have  cared 
little  enough  for  the  ordinary  ends  of  ambition,  he  !iad  a  greediness  of 
gain  which  answered  all  the  purposes  of  ambition  in  arraying  him  against 
his  brother  and  king;  and  a  petty  dispute  which  arose  out  of  the  earl's 
greed  and  his  "unjust  course  of  gratifying  it,  not  only  produced  feud  among 
the  brothers,  but  had  well  nigh  involved  the  whole  nation  in  a  civil  war, 
and  certainly  would  have  done  so  but  for  the  weak  and  yielding  charactei 
of  Henry,  whose  irresolution  even  thus  early  became  manifest  to  both 
his  friends  and  his  enemies. 

Taking  advantage  of  a  dispute  which  had  occurred  between  Richard 
and  one  of  the  barons,  relative  to  the  possession  of  a  certain  manor,  a 
powerful  confederacy  of  discontented  nobles  was  formed  against  the  king, 
who  at  length  yielded  the  point  through  fear,  and  made  concessions  as 
impolitic  as  they  were  inglorious  to  him  as  a  sovereign.  So  weak  and 
pliant,  in  fact,  was  the  character  of  Henry,  that  it  may  be  doubted  whether 


he 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


lie  would  ever  have  reigned  at  all  had  the  care  of  his  minority  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  a  less  able  and  upright  man  than  Hubert  de  Uurgh.  And 
it  was  no  small  proof  of  his  weakness  that  after  a.l  the  important  and 
steadfast  services  which  he  had  .eceived  from  De  Burgh,  that  minister 
was  dismissed  his  office,  deprived  of  his  property,  driven  to  take  sanc- 
tuary, drawn  thence  and  eominitled  to  close  custody  in  the  castle  of  De- 
vizes, for  MO  other  reason  than  that  he  had  been  rtitUrul  to  the  king. 
Other  red  charge  than  this  tiiere  was  none;  though  several  pretences 
were  urged  against  him,  such  as  the  frivolous  ones  of  his  having  gained 
the  king's  f.ivour  and  affection  by  acts  of  euchantmunt,  and  of  purloining 
from  the  royal  treasure  a  gem  which  had  the  virliie  of  rendering  its 
wearer  invulnerable  !  Hubert  was  at  length  driven  iuto  exile  ;  but  re- 
called and  takbii  into  favour  with  just  as  little  apparent  reason  as  there 
had  been  for  his  persecution.  He  seems  in  his  adversity  to  have  at  least 
learned  the  valuable  lesson  of  the  danger  of  counselling  wisely  a  weak 
king;  for,  though  he  was  now  personally  as  much  a  favourite  as  over,  he 
never  afterwards  showed  any  desire  to  resume  his  perilous  authority, 
which  was  bestowed  at  his  overthrow  upon  Peter,  bishop  of  Winchester, 
a  native  of  Poiclou,  arbitrary  and  violent,  but  without  any  of  Hubert  de 
lUirgh's  talent  or  courage,  and  so  little  fitted  for  the  afrnost  sovereign 
authority  that  was  entrusted  to  him,  that  it  was  mainly  owing  to  his  mis- 
conduct and  tyranny  as  judiciary,  and  regent  of  the  kingdom  during  an 
absence  of  King  John  in  France,  that  the  barons  had  been  stung  into 
that  memorable  combination  which  resulted  in  the  great  charter,  the  foun- 
dation of  constitutional  liberty  in  Kngland. 

A.  D.  1-231. — Like  all  weak  persons,  Henry,  while  he  felt  his  own  inoa 
pacity  for  governing,  was  unwilling  to  abide  by  the  advice  of  those  who 
were  worthy  of  his  confidence;  and  feeling  that  his  true  nature  was 
shrewdly  understood  by  his  own  subjects,  he  invited  over  a  great  number 
of  Poiclevms,  in  whom  he  rightly  supposed  that  he  would  find  more 
pliancy  and  less  restraint.  Upon  these  foreign  sycophants  he  conferred 
various  ollices  of  trust  and  power  which  he  feared  to  bestow  upon  his 
English  subjects.  Confident  in  the  protection  of  the  king,  inflated  by  liie 
stream  of  good  fortune  which  so  suddenly  flowed  in  upon  them,  and  either 
ignorant  or  heedless  of  the  hate  and  jealousy  of  which  they  were  the  ob 
jects,  these  foreign  favourites,  by  their  insolence,  added  to  the  rancour  of 
the  powerful  enemies  by  whom  the  mere  favour  and  profuse  liberality  ol 
llie  king  were  of  themselves  sufficient  to  surround  them.  The  barons,  on 
the  oilier  hand,  tinding  all  indirect  tokens  of  their  displeasure  unattended 
to,  at  length  refused  to  attemi  their  ptrliamentary  duties,  under  pretence 
of  fearing  the  power  of  the  foreigners;  and  when  the  king  remonstrated 
and  plainly  commanded  their  attendance,  they  r  :,)lied  tliat  they  would 
attend  no  more  until  llie  king  should  have  dismissed  the  Poictevins,  and 
Itrit  if  he  did  not  speedily  dismiss  those  men,  both  they  and  he  should  be 
driven  from  the  kingdom.  At  length,  iiovvever^  the  barons,  altering  tiieir 
plan,  did  proceed  to  parliament,  but  in  so  warlike  a  guise,  th^t  it  was  evi- 
dent ihey  intended  to  overawe  the  kiit^,  and  make  their  own  will  serve 
for  law  both  to  him  and  to  the  kingdom.  And  tiiis  they  doubtless  would 
speedily  have  done  with  'Jie  strong  haml,  had  they  been  opposed  by  no 
abler  antagonist  than  the  king.  But  the  justiciary,  Peter  des  Roches,  so 
ably  employed  their  interval  of  irrt^solution,  that  he  detached  from  thein 
not  only  the  earls  of  Chester  and  Lincoln,  but  also  the  earl  ol  Cornwall, 
the  king's  brother,  and  thus  so  much  weakened  the  confederacy,  that  it 
was  broken  up  and  its  leaders  exposed  to  the  vengeance  of  the  king. 
Richard,  the  earl  marshal,  fled  into  Wales  and  thence  to  Ireland,  where 
he  was  assassinated ;  others  of  the  barons  were  fortunate  enough  to 
escape,  but  their  estates  were  confiscated,  and,  with  the  king's  usual  folly 
ttnd  profusion,  di^ilribuled  among  the  already  wealth-gorged  foreigners: 


•i-^'^lT 


370 


THE  TEEABURY  OP  HISTORY. 


-and  llie  justiciary  publicly  said  that  the  barons  of  England  must  learn  to 
know  themselves  as  inferior  to  those  of  France  ! 

To  what  extent  of  insolent  tyranny  he  who  uttered  such  a  speech  might 
have  proceeded  it  is  not  easy  to  guess;  but  his  pride  met  with  a  sudden 
check,  and  that  from  a  quarter  whence  he  might  reasonably  have  least 
anticipated  it.  The  church  became  alarmed  for  its  own  interests  ;  several 
of  the  prelates,  well  knowing  the  general  discontent  that  was  spreading 
among  the  people  in  consequence  of  the  insolent  and  tyrannical  conduct 
of  the  justiciary,  attended  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  to  court,  where  he 
strongly  represented  to  Henry  the  impolicy  as  well  as  injustice  of  the 
course  he  had  pursued  himself  and  allowed  the  justiciary  to  pursue  in  his 
name;  and,  attributing  all  the  evil  to  the  justiciary,  demanded  his  dis- 
missal on  pain  of  an  instant  sentence  of  excommunication  against  the 
king  himself.  Timid  by  nature,  though  well  enough  inclined  towards 
despotism  while  it  could  be  practised  safely,  Henry  was  struck  with 
alarm  at  the  threat  of  excommunication,  which  he  rightly  judged  would 
be  satisfactory  to  the  oppressed  people  as  well  as  to  the  barons,  and  he 
consented  to  the  dismissal  of  Peter  des  Roches.  The  primate  succeeded 
him  in  the  task  of  ordering  state  aflfairs ;  an'^  being  a  man  of  promptitude 
as  well  as  of  good  sense,  he  speedily  restored  content  by  banishing  the 
detested  foreigners  and  reinstating  tno  English  magnates  in  the  offices 
from  which  they  had,  as  insultingly  as  unjustly,  been  banished. 

A.D.  1236. — The  inclinations  of  a  weak  prince,  however,  are  usually  too 
strong  for  the  advice  of  the  most  prudent  minister,  ai)  i.  the  complaints  of 
the  king's  preference  of  foreigners  soon  became  louder  than  ever. 

Having  married  Eleanor,  daughter  of  the  count  of  Provence,  Henry 
surrounded  himself  with  her  countrymen  and  those  of  her  maternal  uncle, 
the  bishop  of  Valence,  who  was  of  the  !  ouse  of  Savoy.  The  Provengals 
and  Savoyards  now  tasted  of  the  king's  indiscriminate  bounty  as  largely 
as  the  Poictevins  had.  The  bishop  of  Valence  became  as  potent  a  per- 
sonage as  Peter  des  Roches  had  been ;  another  member  of  the  family  ol 
Peter  was  presented  wii,h  the  manor  of  Richmond  and  the  great  wardship 
of  the  earl  of  Warenne,  and  Boniface,  also  of  Savoy,  was  made  archbishop 
of  Canterbury.  Nor  were  the  men  alone  thus  fortunate ;  to  the  ladies  of 
Savoy  the  king  gave  in  marriage  the  young  and  wealthy  nobles  who  were 
his  wards.  Profusion  like  this  soon  exhausted  even  the  monarch's  ample 
means,  and  an  attempt  was  made  to  put  the  king  in  possession  of  funds 
for  farther  liberalities,  by  obtaining  an  absolution  for  him  from  Rome 
from  the  oath  which  he  had  taken  to  support  his  former  grants  to  his  Eng- 
lish subjects.  In  truth,  it  soon  became  necessary  cither  that  the  king 
should  obtain  new  funds,  or  that  he  should  abandon  his  system  of  profu- 
sion ;  for  a  new  claim,  which  hid  some  show  of  reason,  was  now  made  upon 
him.  It  will  be  '•fcrnembered  that  Henry's  mother,  Isabella,  had  been  by 
the  violence  of  King  John  taken  from  her  lawful  husband,  the  count  de  la 
Marche ;  and  to  him,  as  soon  after  John's  deatl.  as  decency  would  allow, 
she  had  given  her  hand  in  second  marriage.  By  this  s  ..ond  marriage 
she  had  four  sons,  Guy,  William,  Geoffrey,  and  Aylmer,  whom  she  sent 
over  to  visit  Henry.  Their  being  foreigners  would  perhaps  have  been  quite 
sutHi.ieiit  to  procure  for  them  a  ■;  ird'  d  reception ;  but  having  the  additional 
re^o.nmendation  of  being  his  half-brothers,  they  were  rapturously  re- 
ceived by  him,  and  he  heaped  wealth  and  dignities  upon  them,  with  a 
most  entire  unconcern  as  to  his  own  means  and  as  to  the  feelings  and 
claims  of  his  subjects.  In  church  as  in  state,  foreigners  were  constantly 
preferred  to  natives,  jnd  while  Henry  was  lavishing  wealth  and  civil 
honours  upon  the  Poictevins,  Savoyards,  and  Gascons,  the  overwhelming 
influence  of  Rome  filled  the  richest  churcli  benefices  of  England  with 
nameless  Italian  monks,  and  it  was  at  one  time  proved  to  demonstration 


I 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


871 


earn  to 

\  might 
sudden 
/e  least 
several 
)reiiding 
conduct 
trhere  he 
e  of  the 
ue  in  hia 
his  dis- 
]iinat  the 
towards 
ack  with 
id  would 
I,  and  he 
aoceeded 
mptitude 
shing  the 
le  offices 

Bually  too 
plaints  of 
!r. 

le,  Henry 
nal  uncle, 
rovenQals 
IS  largely 
ent  a  per- 
I  family  ol 
wardship 
chbishop 
adies  of 
vho  were 
I's  ample 
of  funds 
jm   Rome 
his  Eng- 
the  king 
of  profu- 
nade  upon 
been  by 
ount  de  la 
uld  allow, 
marriage 
she  sent 
been  quite 
additional 
rously  re- 
m,  with  a 
slings  and 
onstantly 
and  civil 
whelming 
riand  with 
lonstration 


that  the  Italian  intruders  into  the  church  were  in  the  yearly  receipt  of  a 
revenue  considerably  larger  than  that  of  the  king  himself! 

Under  such  circumstances  it  was  natural  tliat  the  parliament  should 
show  some  unwillingness  to  grant  supplies  to  a  king  who  so  ill  knew  how 
to  use  his  funds,  or  that  men  of  all  ranks  should  murmur  against  a  king 
so  entinsly  destitute  of  patriotic  feeling;  and  the  more  especially,  as  he 
was  thus  lavish  to  foreigners  while  utterly  careless  to  flatter  the  English 
with  that  martial  enterprise  which  then,  as  long  after,  was  viewed  by  them 
as  ample  covering  for  many  defects,  personal  and  political.  Whenever 
he  demanded  supplies  he  was  obliged  to  listen  to  the  complaints  of  the 
violence  done  to  his  faithful  subjects,  of  the  mean  marriages  forced  upon 
those  of  the  highest  ranks,  of  the  actual  violence  by  which  his  table  was 
supplied,  his  person  decorated,  and  his  religious  solemnities  adorned. 

A.D.  1253. — To  all  the  complaints  of  this  nature  Henry  listened  with 
impatience,  and  replied  with  vague  and  general  promises  of  amendment; 
at  length,  in  1253,  having  exhausted  the  patience  of  his  long-enduring 
subjects,  he  hit  upon  a  new  moilu  of  obtaining  funds  from  them,  by  so- 
liciting a  supply  to  aid  him  in  the  pious  design  of  a  crusade  against  the 
Infidels.  But  he  had  now  so  often  been  tried  and  found  wanting,  that  the 
parliament  could  not  put  faith  in  this  specious  profession.  The  clergy, 
too,  who  rightly  deemed  their  interests  perilled  by  the  infatuated  conduct 
of  the  king,  were  as  much  opposed  to  him  as  the  laity;  and  they  sent  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the  bishops  of  Winchester,  Salisbury,  and 
Carlisle,  to  remonstrate  with  him  upon  his  general  extravagance,  as  well 
as  upon  the  irregular  manner  in  which  he  disposed  of  church  dignities. 
Upon  this  occasion  Henry  displayed  more  than  his  usual  spirit.  Availing 
himself  of  the  fact  that  he  had  greatly  favoured  these  very  personages, 
he  replied,  "  It  is  true,  I  have  been  in  error  on  this  point  of  improper  pro- 
motions; I  obtruded  yon,  my  lord  of  Canterbury,  upon  your  see;  I  was 
obliged  to  employ  both  threats  and  persuasions,  my  lord  of  Winchester, 
to  have  you  elected ;  a  «d  Irregular,  indeed,  was  my  conduct,  my  lords  of 
Salisbury  and  Carlisle,  when  from  your  lowly  stations  I  raised  you  to 
your  present  dignities."  There  was  much  truth  in  this,  but  there  was  no 
apology ;  and  the  prelates  shrewdly  replied,  thai  the  question  was  not  of 
errors  past,  but  of  the  avoidance  of  future  errors. 

Notwithstanding  the  sarcasm  with  which  the  king  met  the  complaints 
of  the  prelates,  he  promised  so  fairly  for  the  reformation  of  both  ecclesi- 
astical and  civil  abuses,  that  the  parliament  at  length  consented  to  giant 
him  a  tentli  of  the  ecclesiastical  benefices,  and  a  scutage  of  three  marks 
upon  each  knight's  fee,  on  condition  of  his  solemnly  ratifying  the  great 
charter,  while,  with  the  ceremony  of  "bell,  book, and  candle,"  they  cursed 
whoever  should  henceforth  violate  it.  The  king  joined  in  the  ceremony, 
audibly  and  emphatically  agreed  in  the  awful  curse  invoked  upon  any  vio- 
lation of  his  oaih — and  immediately  afterwards  returned  to  his  old  prac- 
tices as  though  nothing  extraordinary  had  occurred ! 

A.D.  1258. — Conduct  so  infatuated  on  the  part  of  the  king  almost  seemed 
to  invite  rebellion,  and  at  length  tempted  one  ambitious  and  daring  noble  so 
far,  that  he  determined  to  endeavour  to  win  the  throne  from  a  king  who 
proved  hi. nself  so  unworthy  of  filling  it  with  dignity  or  honour.  Simon 
de  Montford,  a  son  of  the  great  warrior  of  that  name,  having,  though  born 
abroad,  inherited  large  property  in  England,  was  created  earl  of  Leices- 
ter, and  in  the  year  1238  married  the  dowager  countess  of  Pembroke,  sister 
to  the  king.  The  earl  had  been  sometimes  greatly  favoured,  sometimes 
as  signally  disgraced  by  the  king,  but  being  a  man  "of  great  talent  he  had 
fontrived  always  to  recover  his  footing  at  court,  and,  whether  in  or  out 
of  favour  with  the  king,  to  be  a  general  favourite  with  the  people,  who  at 
his  first  marrying  the  king's  sister  had  hated  and  railed  against  him  for 
his  foreign  birth. 


•78 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


Pcrcciviiig  liow  iiivi  teraleiy  tho  king  was  addicted  to  his  tyrannies  and 
ruliic-s,  this  urlftil  and  able  noMctnan  determinod  to  put  liimseir  at  the 
hoad  of  tho  popular — or,  more  properly  speaking,  the  baronial  and  church 
—party,  believing  that  Henry  woid;)  so  far  provoke  his  enemies  as  to  lose 
hi'  throne,  in  which  case  L(!ic(;sler  trusted  to  his  own  talents  and  influence 
to  „iiable  him  to  succeed  to  it.  Acconlliiifly  he  took  up  the  cry,  now 
become  as  general  as  it  was  just,  against  the  king's   oppression  of  tho 

t)eople,  and  his  preference  of  foreigners — Leicester  conveniently  over- 
ookiiig  his  own  foreign  birth! — and  sought  every  occasion  of  putting 
hnnself  forward  as  the  advocate  of  the  native  barons  and  the  prelates. 
When  by  persevering  efforts  in  this  way  he  had,  as  he  considered,  suffi- 
ciently strengthened  his  own  hands  and  inflamed  the  general  resentmeirts 
against  the  king,  he  took  occasion  of  a  quarrel  with  Ilenry's  half-brother 
and  favourite,  William  de  Valence,  to  bring  matters  to  a  crisis.  Calling 
a  meeting  of  the  nvm^  incensed  and  powerful  of  the  barons,  ho  represented 
to  them  all  those  violations  of  tlie  charter  to  which  we  have  already  a'- 
luded,  and  demanded  whether  they  had  so  far  degenerated  from  the  high 
feelings  of  llie  barons  who  had  wrested  the  cliarter  from  John,  that  they 
were  prepared,  without  even  a  struggle,  to  see  it 'a  mere  dead  letter  in  the 
hand  of  Henry,  whose  most  solemn  promises  of  reformation  they  had  so 
often  experienced  to  be  unwortliy  of  belief. 

There  was  so  much  of  truth  in  Leicester's  harangue,  tliat  the  position 
which  he  had  occupied  as  a  favoured  foreigner  v.'as  overlooked,  his  recom- 
mendations were  made  the  rule  of  the  i)arous'  conduct,  and  they  agreed 
forttiwith  to  take  the  government  of  pul)lic  affairs  into  their  own  hands. 
They  wore  just  then  summoned  to  meet  the  king  for  the  old  purpose, 
namely,  to  grant  him  su|)plies,  uik!  to  his  astonisluneiit  he  found  them  all 
in  complete  armour.  Alarmed  at  t<)  unu&u:il  a  sight  and  at  the  soleuni  si- 
lence with  which  he  was  rcccivi  d,  he  demiuded  whether  he  was  to  look 
upon  them  asliis  enemies  and  liimscir  as  their  prisoner;  to  which  Roger 
Bigod,  as  spokesman,  replied,  that  they  looked  'pon  him  not  as  Uieir  |)ri- 
soiier,  but  as  their  sovereign;  that  they  had  mci  him  tliere  in  the  most 
dutiful  desire  to  aid  him  with  supplies  that  h«!  might,  as  he  wished,  fix  his 
son  upon  the  throne  of  Sicily  ;  but  they  at  the  same  time  desired  certain 
reforms  which  the  experience  of  the  past  plainly  showed  that  he  could 
not  make  in  his  own  person,  and  that  they  therefore  were  under  the  neces 
sity  of  requiring  him  to  eoiifer  uuliiority  upon  those  who  would  strenuous 
ly  use  it  for  the  national  beiicfil.  Tl'.e  evident  (♦eteriiiinatioii  of  the  barons 
and  the  great  and  instant  neeil  which  he  had  of  supplies,  left  t;ie  king  no 
choice;  lie  therefore  assured  them  that  he  would  shortly  summon  anothei 
parliament  for  the  election  of  persons  to  wield  the  authority  spoken  of 
and  also  to  settle  and  di.'line  tliat  authority  within  precise  limits. 

A  parliament  was  accordingly  called,  at  which  the  barons  made  theii 
appearance  with  so  formidal)re  an  armed  attendance,  that  it  was  quite 
clear  that,  whatever  they  might  propose,  the  king  had  no  power  to  resist 
them. 

Twelve  barons  were  selected  by  the  king  and  twelve  by  the  parliament, 
and  to  the  body  thus  formed  an  unlimited  reforming  power  was  given,  the 
king  himself  swearing  to  agree  to  and  maintain  whatever  tiiey  should  deem 
fit  to  order.  Their  instant  orders  were  most  reasonable;  that  three  times 
in  each  year  the  parliament  should  meet;  that  on  the  next  meeting  of  par- 
liament each  shire  or  county  should  send  four  knights  to  that  parliament, 
that  so  the  especial  wants  and  grievances  of  every  part  of  the  kingdom 
might  be  known;  that  the  sheriffs,  officers  of  great  power  and  influence, 
fthould  thenceforth  be  annually  elected  by  the  counties,  and  should  no 
longer  h;ive  the  power  to  fine  barons  foi  not  attending  their  courts  or  the 
justiciaries'  circuits;  that  no  castles  should  be  committed  to  the  custoiiy 
and  no  heirs  to  the  wardships  of  foreigners,  that  no  new  forests  or  war 


their 

The 
the  cro 
to  put 
he  kilt 
power 
to  lioiii 
in  their 
of  then 
ed  with 
indepei 
rnaxiini- 
until  till 
and  the 
he  had 
qutntly 

A.  D 

from  Ro 
most  pa 
twenty- 
thai  in  _ 
his  roya 
changed 
most  of 
Recured 
I-l 


,,.,.  ^ 


THB  TEEASUEY  OP  HISTORY. 


97> 


theij 
quite 
lesisl 

ament, 
11,  the 

ddeem 
times 

of  par- 

ilUH'Ilt, 

iiigdom 
vieiioe, 
uld  110 
or  the 
ustoiiy 
)r  war 


rens  should  be  made ;  and  that  the  i  venues  of  counties  or  hundreds  should 
no  tonger  be  farmed  out. 

Thus  far  the  barons  proceedc  d  moc t  equitably.  But  bare  equity  and  the 
good  of  the  people  did  not  include  all  that  the  barons  wanted.  As  the 
shameful  profusion  of  the  king  had  heaped  wealth  upon  foreigners,  so  the 
destruction  of  these  foreigners  would  yield  an  abundant  harvest  to  the 
native  barons,  .accordingly,  when  tite  king,  having  acquiesced  in  the 
regulations  abo-:  njentioned,  looked  lor  the  promised  and  much-needed 
supplies,  he  was  irx  by  loud  outcries  against  foreigners  in  general,  and 
against  hiti  half-br  .tlitu^  in  particular.  So  loud  was  the  clamour  against 
these  '  .tter,  that  even  the  king's  preseact;  seemed  insufTicient  to  secure 
their  lives,  and  they  took  to  flight.  Being  hotly  pursued  by  some  of  the 
more  violent  of  the  barons,  they  look  refuge  in  the  palace  of  Winchester, 
to  which  see  Aylmer  had  been  promoted.  Even  here  they  were  surround- 
ed and  threatened,  and  the  king,  as  the  sole  mode  of  saving  them  from 
destruction,  agreed  to  banish  them.  H:iving  thus  nearly  attacked  the  king 
in  the  persons  of  those  who  had  some  icisonable  and  natural  claim  upon 
his  favour,  the  barons  next  proceeded  to  dismiss  the  justiciary,  treasurer, 
and  other  chief  ministers;  and  having  filled  these  important  posts  with 
persons  upon  whom  they  could  implicitly  rely,  they  next  proceeded  to  the 
virtual  usurpation  of  the  thro.ie,  i,^  administering  an  oath  to  all  the  lieges 
to  o'  y  and  execute  all  lh(!  regulations  of  the  twenty-four  barons,  under 
;)Hin  of  being  declared  public  enemiu^- ;  and  such  was  the  power  which, 
J  ider  the  pretence  of  the  purest  patriotism,  these  barons  had  usurped,  that 
•ven  the  powerful  earl  Warenne  and  Prince  Edward,  the  heir  to  the 
throne,  were  not  exempt  from  the  obligation  to  take  this  oath. 

A.  D.  1261. — So  arrogantly  did  the  barons  use  their  extensive  and  usurp 
vd  authority,  that  the  earl  of  Gloucester,  from  being  a  chief  in  their  con 
iederacy,  separated  from  it  to  side  with  the  king;  and  Prince  Edward, 
encouraged  by  the  general  murmurs  of  the  people  that  the  barons  were 
becoming  more  tyrannous  than  even  a  king  could  be,  threatened  the  barons 
that  he  would  peril  his  life  in  opposir'?  them  if  they  did  not  speedily  bring 
their  reforms  to  a  close. 

The  spirit  of  the  prince  Edward  ralljr'd  so  much  favour  to  the  side  of 
the  crown,  that  Henry  thouirht  that  he  might  safely  venture  to  endeavour 
to  put  a  curb  upon  the  exorbitant  power  of  the  twenty-four  barons ;  but  as 
he  knew  how  prejudicial  to  his  interests  it  would  be  to  leave  it  in  the 
power  of  his  enemies  to  accuse  hiin  of  perjury,  he  in  the  first  place  applied 
to  Home  for  absolution  from  the  oath  ii"  had  made  to  support  the  barons 
in  their  authority — an  absolution  which  'e  readily  received,  both  because 
of  the  misconduct  of  the  barons,  and  because  the  pope  wks  seriously  offend- 
ed with  the  English  clergy  for  having  ■  liown  a  greater  tendency  towards 
independence  than  squared  with  either  the  papal  interests  or  the  papal 
maxims.  Prince  Edward  refused  to  avail  himself  even  of  this  absolution 
until  the  outrageous  miseondnct  of  the  b  irons  compelled  him  to  do  so; 
and  the  scrupulous  fidelity  with  which  he  thus  kept  to  an  engagtMiieiu  which 
he  had  born  forced  iiHo,  procured  him  a  general  admiration  which  sul)se- 
qufcutly  was  very  importantly  benefici£l  to  him. 

A.  D.  1'262. — As  soon  'is  Henry  receivcf^  the  absolution  he  had  solicited 
from  Rome,  he  issued  a,  proclamation,  in  which  he  bitterly,  and,  for  Ihf 
most  part,  truly  painted  the  personal  and  selfish  views  witli  which  the 
twenty-four  barons  had  both  sought  and  used  tlieir  authority,  and  declared 
tliat  in  duty  to  himself  and  his  people  he  should  from  that  time  forth  use 
his  royal  authority  without  its  diminution  c  r  participation  by  any  one ;  he 
changed  all  the  chief  officers  of  state  and  of  his  own  household,  as  also 
most  of  the  sherifl's  of  counties  and  governors  of  castles.  Having  thus  far 
Recured  himself  he  summoned  a  parliament,  which  met  on  the  twenty 
1—18 


•74 


ThS  TRKAPJUaV  OF  HiaXOKY 


third  of  April  in  this  year,  and  which,  with  but  five  diiscnting  votes,  cori 
firmed  hiH  resumption  of  his  authority. 

Hut  the  simke  of  disHffection  was  only  "acotclied,  not  killed;"  many  r-f 
the  baron  stdl  corrcspondecl  with  Leicester,  and  that  haughty  noble, 
though  res  ot  in  France,  was  busily  eniployed  in  foincnting  evil  for  Knj/. 
land,  whit  i  ne  now  the  more  confidently  hoped  to  r"i<»n  over,  becnusu  his 
powerful  rival  Gloucester  was  dead,  and  Gilbert,  ttiui  nobleman's  son  and 
successor,  had  given  his  adhesion  to  Leicester. 

While  Leicester  and  his  adherents  were  busily  preparing  to  attack  the 
power  of  the  king,  the  Welsh  suddenly  made  un  irruption  over  the  border, 

Erobably  pntmpted  by  Leicester.     The  prince  Edward,  however,  rof)uised 
lewellyn  and  his  ill-disciplined  troops,  and  tlien  returned  to  aid  his  father, 
against  whom  Leicester  was  now  openly  and  in  great  force  arrayed. 

Leicester  directed  his  attacks  chiefly  against  the  king's  demesnes,  and 
excited  the  zeal  of  his  followers  to  perfect  fury  by  encouraging  theni  to 
spoil  and  plunder  to  their  utmost.  The  bishops  of  Hereford  and  Norwich 
were  seized  and  imprisoned,  and  in  spite  of  tiie  determined  and  able  con- 
duct of  Prince  Edward,  the  king's  cause  began  to  wear  an  unpromising 
aspect.  The  rabble  of  the  great  towns  were  the  zealous  adherents  of 
Leicester,  whose  cause  and  liberty  to  plunder  they  coupled  ;  and  in  Lou- 
don, especially,  the  very  dregs  of  the  population  were  up  in  arms,  headed 
and  encouraged  by  the  mayor,  a  violent  and  ill-principled  man  named 
Fitz-Richard,  by  whom  large  gangs  of  desperadoes  were  encouraged  to 
pillage  the  wealthy  and  assail  the  peaceable.  The  season  of  Easter  was 
especially  marked  by  these  outrages  in  the  metropolis.  A  cry  was  at  first 
raised  against  the  Jews;  from  attacking  them  the  mob  proceeded  to  attack 
the  Lombards,  then  the  chief  bankers  and  money  !end(!rs ;  and,  as  usual 
in  such  cases,  the  violence  speedily  proceeded  to  be  directed  indiscrimi- 
nately against  ail  who  had  or  were  suspected  of  having  any  thing  to  be 
plundered  of.  To  such  a  height  did  the  fuiy  of  the  mob  proceed,  that  the 
queen,  who  was  then  lodging  in  the  Tower,  became  so  seriously  alarmed, 
tna'  s'lo  left  it  by  water  with  the  intention  of  seeking  safety  at  Windsor. 
But  as?  i'or  barge  approached  London  Bridge  the  rabble  assailed  her,  not 
sn-Ay  ni'li  the  coarsest  abuse,  but  also  with  vollies  of  filth  and  stones,  so 
\'nMt  siit^  was  obliged  to  return  to  the  Tower. 

Friiue  Edward  was  unfortunately  made  prisoner  during  a  parley  at  Ox- 
ford, iiid  that  event  so  much  weakened  the  king's  party,  that  Henry,  find- 
ing Leicester's  party  triumphant  and  insolent  all  over  the  kingdom,  was 
fain  to  treat  for  peace.  Aware  that  they  had  the  upper  hand,  the  rebels 
would  allow  of  no  terms  short  of  the  full  power  formerly  given  to  the 
twenty-four  barons  being  again  entrusted  to  a  like  number,  of  whom  a 
list  was  given  to  the  king;  and  as  Prince  Edward  had  shown  great  talent 
and  daring,  Leicester  stipulated  that  the  treaty  now  made  should  remain 
in  force  during  the  life  of  the  prince  as  well  as  that  of  the  king.  Henry 
had  no  choice  but  to  submit ;  the  barons  restored  their  own  creatures  lo 
oflSce  in  the  fortresses,  the  counties,  the  state,  and  the  king's  household, 
and  then  summoned  a  parliament  to  meet  them  at  Westminster,  and  deter- 
mine upon  future  measures  for  the  government  of  the  country. 

Prince  Edward  being  restored  to  liberty  by  this  treaty,  lost  no  time  in 
exerting  himself  to  prepare  for  a  new  struggle  against  the  insolent  preten- 
sions  of  Leicester;  but  though  many  powerful  barons  gave  him  their  adhe- 
sions, including  the  lords  of  the  Scotch  and  Welsh  marches,  Leicester's 
party  was  still  too  strong  to  give  the  young  prince  hopes  of  success  ;  and 
the  people  clamouring  loudly  for  peace,  the  prince  and  king  proposed  that 
the  dispute  between  them  and  the  barons  should  be  referred  to  the  arbitra- 
tion of  the  king  of  France.  That  upright  prince,  on  examination  of  the 
affair,  decided  that  the  king  should  be'  fully  restored  to  his  power  and  pre- 
rogativ«s  on  the  one  hand;  and  that,  on  the  other  Imnd,  tlie  people  were 
entitka  to  aB.  the  benefits  of  the  great  charter.     Unfortunately,  though 


THE  TREA8t;ilY  OF  HISTORY. 


27* 


(Ain  decisKJU  wan  just,  it  uiily  IcTt  the  contendinff  piirtics  [trecisely  where 
iticy  w«rt.>  at  the  cuinniciicrincnt  of  tho  (|ii)irn'l,  and  Htalod  in  form  t'.iat 
which  was  perfeelly  notoriniiH  bcfon:,  namely,  thut  the  kiiiif  had  over- 
stretchcit  the  power  tu  whii-h  hu  was  caiitled,  and  thut  tho  baroim  had 
asHumci'  a  power  to  which  ihey  were  nut  entitled.  Leicester,  to  whose 
pcrsoimi  views  peace  was  utterly  destriictive,  rcprnsented  to  his  party, 
that  the  award  of  the  French  king  was  wholly  and  unjustly  on  the  side  of 
Henry  ;  he  caused  seventeen  other  barons  to  join  hiin  in  a  compact  with 
the  discontented  Londoners,  by  which  they  mutually  bound  themselves 
never  to  make  peace  with  tho  kingf  but  with  the  full  and  open  concur- 
rence of  both  these  contracting  parties ;  and  while  some  of  Leicester's 
friends  rekindled  the  civil  war  in  the  jmivinces,  he  and  Filz-Richard  did 

Duntry  once  more  bristled  with 


e  1)1 
urn 


n<l  his  brave  son  promptly  made 

tary  vassals,  whom  they  sum- 

'■)rces  under  Baliol,  lord  of 

I,  and  other  northern  lead- 

their  proceedini^s  bylay- 

iig  garrison  commanded  by 

ig  speedily  taken  by  assault, 

Nottingham,  wliich  opened 


the  like  in  London;  so  that  the  wik 
arms  and  resounded  with  cries  of  wur. 

Finding  civil  war  inevitable,  tin       t" 
their  preparations.    In  addition  t( 
moned  from  all  quarters,  they  wt 
Galloway,  Brus,  lord  of  Annandal 
ers  of  power.     With  this  array  ilu 
ing  siege  to  Northampton,  in  which 
some  of  the  principal  barons.     This  place  ui , 

the  royal  army  marched  against  Leicester  am  ^ , 

their  gates.  Prince  Edward  now  led  a  detachment  against  the  property 
of  the  earl  of  Derby,  whoso  lands  were  laid  waste  as  a  punishment  of  his 
disloyalty.  Leicester,  in  the  meanwhile,  taking  care  to  keep  up  a  com- 
munication with  London,  upon  the  support  of  which  he  greatly  depended, 
laid  siege  to  Rochester  castle,  which  was  the  only  strong-hold  in  Kent 
that  still  held  out  for  the  king,  and  which  was  ably  defended  by  Earl 
VVarenne,  its  governor.  The  royal  army,  flushed  with  its  success  else- 
where, now  marched  in  all  haste  to  relieve  this  important  fortress ;  and 
Leicester,  hearing  of  their  approach,  and  fearing  to  be  outnumbered  in  a 
disadvantageous  position,  hastily  raised  the  siege  and  fell  back  upon 
London.  From  London,  Leicester  sent  proposals  to  Heniy,  but  of  so 
arrogant  and  exorbitant  a  character,  that  he  must  have  been  aware  they 
would  not  be  listened  to ;  and,  on  a  stern  answer  being  returned  by  the 
king,  Leicester  publicly  renounced  his  allegiance  and  marched  the  whole 
force  he  could  collect  towards  Lewes,  in  Sussex,  where  the  royal  army 
lay  ;  the  bishop  of  Chichester  giving  the  rebels  a  formal  and  general  abso- 
lution, and  assuring  them  that  all  who  should  fall  in  fighting  against  the 
king  would  undoubtedly  go  to  heaven. 

Leicester,  though  a  shameful  rebel,  was  a  skilful  general,  and  on  this 
occasion  he  so  ably  conducted  his  march,  that  he  almost  surprised  the 
royalists  in  their  quarters ;  but  the  short  time  that  elapsed  between  the 
alarm  and  the  arrival  of  the  rebels  sufficed  to  enable  the  active  prince  Ed- 
ward to  march  the  army  to  the  field  in  good  order;  one  division  being  led 
by  himself,  ihe  Earl  Warrenne,  and  William  de  Valence,  a  second  by  the 
king  of  the  Romans  and  his  son  Henry,  and  the  third  forming  a  reserve 
under  the  personal  command  of  the  king  himself.  The  prince  led  his  di- 
vision against  the  enemy's  vanguard,  which  was  composed  of  the  Lon- 
dop"ri=,  who  fled  at  the  very  first  charge.  Forgetting  that  his  assistance 
might  be  required  elsewhere,  Prince  Edward  allowed  himself  to  be  gov- 
erned entirely  by  his  headlong  rage  against  these  inveterately  disloyal 
men,  and  pursued  them,  with  great  slaughter,  for  nearly  five  miles  from 
the  field  of  battle.  This  impetuosity  of  the  prince  lost  his  father  the  day ; 
for  Leicester,  promptly  availing  himself  of  the  prince's  absence,  charged 
80  hotly  upon  the  remaining  two  divisions  of  the  royalists,  that  they  were 
defeated  with  terrible  loss,  and  both  the  king  and  his  brother,  the  king  of 
the  Ronians,  were  taken  prisoners ;  as  were  Brus,  Comyn,  and  all  the 
3i08t  considerable  leaders  on  the  king's  side.    Earl  Warenne,  Hugh  B'god. 


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THE  THBA8UBY  OF  HISTORY, 


and  William  de  Valence  escaped  beyond  sea ;  but  Prince  £dward,  uiap- 
palled  by  the  consequences  of  his  own  imprudence,  kept  his  force  together, ij 
added  to  it  as  many  as  could  be  rallied  of  the  defeated  divisions,  and  pre* 
■ented  so  bold  a  front,  that  Leicester  thought  it  more  prudent  to  amuse  him 
with  pretended  desire  to  treat,  than  to  urge  him  to  a  desperate  attaci(. 
The  earl  accordingly  proposed  terms ;  and  though  they  were  severe,  and 
such  as  under  other  circumstances  the  prince  would  have  laughed  to  scorn, 
a  little  examination  of  the  royal  resources  showed  so  hopeless  a  state  of 
things,  that  Edward,  despite  his  pride,  was  oblija^ed  to  agree.  These  terms 
were,  that  Prince  Edward  and  Henry  d'Allmame,  son  of  the  king  of  the 
Romans,  should  surrender  themselves  prisoners  in  exchange  for  their 
fathers ;  that  six  arbiters  should  be  named  by  the  king  of  Prance,  that  these 
six  should  choose  two  others,  also  French,  and  that  one  Englishman  should 
be  named  by  these  last ;  the  council  thus  named  to  have  power  definitely 
to  decide  upon  all  matters  in  dispute  between  Henry  and  his  barons.  In 
compliance  with  these  terms,  Edward  and  his  cousm  yic^lded  themselves, 
and  were  sent  prisoners  to  Dover  castle ;  but  Leicester,  though  he  nomi- 
nally gave  the  king  his  liberty,  took  care  to  keep  him  completely  in  his 
power,  and  made  use  of  the  royal  name  to  forward  his  own  designs.  Thus 
the  most  loyal  governors  readily  yielded  up  their  important  fortresses  in 
the  king's  name ;  and  when  commanded  by  the  king  to  disarm  and  disband, 
no  loyal  soldier  could  longer  venture  to  keep  the  field.  Leicester  made, 
in  fact,  precisely  what  alterations  and  regulations  he  pleased,  taking  care 
to  make  them  all  in  the  king's  name ;  and  so  evidently  considered  himself 
virtually  in  possession  of  the  throne  at  which  he  had  so  daringly  aimed, 
that  he  even  ventured  to  treat  with  insolent  injustice  the  very  barons  to 
whose  participation  of  his  disloyal  labour  he  owed  so  much  of  its  success. 
Having  confiscated  the  large  possessions  of  some  eighteen  of  the  royalist 
barons,  and  received  the  ransom  of  a  host  of  prisoners,  he  applied  the 
whole  spoil  to  his  own  use,  and  when  his  confederates  demanded  to  share 
with  him,  he  coolly  told  them  that  they  already  had  a  sufficiency  in  hein<f, 
safe  from  the  attainders  and  forfeitures  to  which  they  would  have  been 
exposed  but  for  his  victory. 

As  for  the  reference  to  parties  to  be  named  by  the  king  of  France  and 
his  nominees,  though  the  earl,  in  order  to  hoodwink  Prince  Edward,  laid 
so  much  stress  upon  it  during  their  negotiation,  he  now  took  not  the 
slightest  notice  of  it,  but  summoned  a  parliament,  so  selected  that  he  vveU 
knew  that  his  wishes  would  be  law  to  them.  And,  accordingly,  this  ser- 
vile senate  enacted  that  ail  acts  of  sovereignty  should  require  the  sanction 
of  a  council  of  nine,  which  council  could  be  wholly  or  in  part  changed  at 
the  will  of  the  earls  of  Leicester  and  Gloucester,  and  the  bishop  of  Chi- 
Chester,  or  a  majority  of  these  three.  Now  the  bishop  of  Chichester  being 
the  mere  convenient  tool  of  Leicester,  the  earl  was  in  reality  in  full  power 
over  the  council — in  other  words,  he  was  a  despotic  monarch  in  every 
thing  but  name.  The  queen,  secretly  assisted  by  Louis  of  France,  col- 
lected a  force  together,  with  an  intention  of  invading  England  on  behalf 
of  her  husband,  in  whose  name  the  coast  of  England  was  lined  with  forces 
to  oppose  her ;  but  the  queen's  expedition  was  first  delayed  and  then  bro- 
ken up  altogether  by  contrary  winds.  The  papal  court  issued  a  bull  against 
Leicester,  but  he  threatened  to  put  the  legate  to  death  if  he  appeared  with 
it;  and  even  when  the  legate  himself  became  pope  under  the  title  of  Ur- 
ban IV.,  Leicester  still  ventured  to  brave  him,  so  confidently  did  he  rely 
upon  the  dislike  to  Rome  that  was  entertained,  not  only  by  the  people  in 
general,  but  also  by  the  great  body  of  the  English  clergy. 

A.D.  1265- — Still  desirous  to  govern  with  a  show  of  legality,  Leicester 
summoned  a  new  parliament,  which  more  nearly  resembled  the  existing 
form  of  that  assembly  than  any  which  had  preceded  it.  Before  this  par- 
liament the  earl  of  Derbv — in  the  kinr's  name — was  accused  -mi*  commit- 


THE  TREASURY  OV  HISTORY. 


377 


[lis  ser- 
mction 


ted ;  and  the  earl  of  Gloucester  was  intended  for  the  same  or  a  worte  fate 
by  ills  powerful  and  unscrupulous  colleague,  but  avoided  all  present  collit- 
ion  with  him  by  retiring  from  parliament  and  the  council.    This  obvious 
quarrel  between  the  earls  gave  great  encouragement  to  the  king's  friends, 
and  the  general  voice  now  began  loudly  to  demand  the  release  of  the  brave 
prince  Edward  who  had  remained  a  close  prisoner  ever  since  the  battle  of 
LewRS.     Leicester  consented  on  conditions  to  release  the  prince,  but  he 
took  care  to  keep  both  him  and  the  kine  within  his  reach ;  and  they  were 
obliged  to  accompany  him  on  his  marcli  against  the  earl  of  Gloucenter, 
who  had  retired  to  his  estates  on  the  borders  of  Wales.     While  Leices- 
ter lay  at  Hereford,  threatening  the  earl  of  Gloucester,  the  latter  nobleman 
continued  to  communicate  with  Prince  Edward,  and  so  to  arrange  matters 
that  the  young  prince  escaped  from  the  "attendance,"  as  it  was  called, 
but  really  the  confinement,  in  which  he  had  been  kept,  and  was  speedily 
at  the  head  of  a  gallant  army,  which  daily  received  accession,  when  the 
glad  news  of  his  real  liberty  became  generally  known.     Simon  de  Mont- 
fort,  Leicester's  son,  hastened  from  London  with  an  army  to  the  assist- 
ance of  his  father.     Prince  Edward,  having  broken  down  the  bridges  oi 
the  Severn,  turned  away  from  the  earl's  position,  and  fell  suddenly  upon 
Simon  de  Montfurt,  who  was  carelessly  encamped  at  Kenilworlh,  put  his 
force  utterly  to  the  rout,  and  took  the  earl  of  Oxford  and  several  other 
barons  prisoners.    Leicester,  ignorant  of  this,  had  in  the  meantime  man 
aged  to  get  his  army  across  the  Severn  in  boats,  and  halted  at  Evesham, 
in  Worcestershire,  in  daily  expectation  of  the  arrival  of  that  force  which 
had  already  been  put  to  the  rout.     Prince  Edward,  vigilant  himself  and 
well  served  by  his  scouts,  dexterously  availed  himself  of  the  earl's  mis 
apprehension  of  the  state  of  affairs,  and  ha>^ng  sent  part  of  his  army  on 
its  march  towards  the  earl,  bearing  De  Montfort's  banners  and  otherwise 
provided  for  representing  his  routed  force,  he  with  the  main  body  of  his 
army  took  another  route,  so  as  to  fall  upon  the  earl  in  a  different  quarter* 
and  so  completely  was  the  deception  successful,  that  when  Leicester  at 
length  discovered  the  real  state  of  the  case,  he  exclaimed,  "  Now  have  I 
taught  them  to  war  to  some  purpose !    May  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  oui 
souls,  for  our  bodies  belong  to  Prince  Edward !"  But  there  was  not  much 
time  for  reflection;  Edward  led  his  troops  to  the  attack  vigorously  and  in 
excellent  order;  Leicester's  troops,  on  the  other  hand,  were  dispirited  by 
their  bad  position  and  suffering  much  from  sickness ;  and  victory  speedily 
declared  for  the  prince.     In  the  heat  of  the  battle  Leicester  was  struck 
down  and  immediately  dispatched  though  he  demanded  quarter,  and  his 
whole  force  was  routed,  upwards  of  a  hundred  of  the  principal  leaders  and 
knights  being  taken  prisoners.     The  king  himself  was  on  the  point  of  los- 
ing his  life.     The  earl  had  cruelly  placed  him  in  the  very  front  of  the  bat- 
tle, and  a  knight  who  had  already  wounded  him  was  about  to  repeat  his 
blow,  when  Heurv  saved  himself  by  exclaimins,  "I  am  Henry  of  Win- 
chester, your  king." 

The  victory  of  Evesham  re-established  the  king's  authority ;  and  to  the 
great  credit  of  the  royal  party,  no  blood  disgraced  that  victory.  Not  a 
single  capital  punishment  took  place ;  the  family  of  Leicester  alone  was 
attainted  to  full  effect;  for  though  many  other  rebellious  families  were 
formally  attainted,  their  sentences  were  reversed  on  payment  of  sums, 
trifling  indeed  when  the  heinousness  of  the  offence  they  had  committed  is 
considered. 

The  kingdom  being  thus  restored  to  peace  and  released  from  all  danger 
from  the  turbulent  Leicester,  Prince  Edward  departed  for  the  Holy  Land, 
where  he  so  greatly  distinguished  himself,  that  the  Infidels  at  length  em- 
ployed an  assassin  to  destroy  him ;  but  though  severely  and  *>  en  danger- 
ously wounded,  the  prince  fortunately  escaped  with  life,  and  his  assailani 
was  put  to  death  on  the  spot. 


278 


THE  TUEASUHY  OF  HISTORY. 


A.D.  1272. — Lest  Gloucester  should  imitHte  his  late  rival  in  rebellion. 
Kdward  took  that  powerful  nobleman  with  him  to  the  East ;  but  his  own  jfk 
absence  was  very  injurious  to  the  public  peace  in  England.  No  one  pre-  ^ 
sumptuous  and  even  powerful  baron,  indeed,  dared  to  dispute  the  crown 
with  his  royal  master,  but  there  was  a  general  tendency  to  disorder  among 
both  barons  and  people ;  and  the  rabble  of  the  great  towns,  and  especially 
of  London,  became  daily  more  openly  violent  and  licentious.  Henry  was 
little  able  to  contend  against  such  a  state  of  things.  Naturally  irresolute, 
he  was  now  worn  out  with  years,  and  with  infirmities  even  beyond  those 
incident  to  age.  Perhaps,  too,  the  disorder  of  his  kingdom  aggravated  his 
sufferings ;  he  perpetually  expressed  his  wish  for  the  return  of  his  son, 
and  lamented  his  own  helplessness,  and  at  length  breathed  his  last  on  the 
16th  of  November,  1272,  aged  sixty-four ;  having  reigned  fifty  years,  with 
little  ease  and  with  little  credit,  being  obviously,  from  his  youth  upwards, 
rather  fitted  for  a  private  tlian  for  a  public  station. 


CHAPTER  XXIV, 


THE  REIGN  or  EDWARD  I. 


A.  D.  1273. — Prince  Edward  was  already  as  far  as  Sicily  on  his  way 
home  when  he  received  tidings  of  the  death  of  his  father.  He  at  the  same 
time  heard  of  the  death  of  his  own  infant  son  John ;  and  when  it  was  ob- 
served to  him  that  the  former  loss  seemed  to  affect  him  the  most  painfully 
he  replied  that  the  loss  of  his  son  might  be  supplied,  but  that  of  his  fathei 
was  final  and  irreparable. 

Hearing  that  all  was  peaceable  in  England  he  did  not  hasten  home,  but 

Cassed  nearly  twelve  months  in  France.  Being  at  Chalons,  in  Burgundy, 
e  and  some  of  his  knights  engaged  in  a  tournament  with  the  Burgundian 
chivalry,  and  so  fierce  was  the  spirit  of  rivalry  that  the  sport  became 
changed  into  earnest ;  blood  was  spilt  on  both  sides,  and  so  much  damage 
was  done  before  the  fray  could  be  terminated,  that  the  engagement  of  this 
day,  though  commenced  rierely  in  sport  and  good  faith,  was  seriously 
termed  the  little  battle  ol  Chalons. 

A.  D.  1274. — After  viditing  Paris,  where  he  did  homage  to  Philip  the 
Hardy,  then  king  of  France,  for  the  territory  which  he  held  in  that  king- 
dom, he  went  to  Guienne  to  put  an  end  to  some  disorders  that  existed 
there,  and  at  length  arrived  in  London,  where  he  was  joyfully  received 
by  his  people.  He  was  crowned  at  Westminster,  and  immediately  turned 
nis  attention  to  the  regulating  of  his  kingdom,  with  an  especial  view  to 
avoiding  those  disputes  which  had  caused  so  much  evil  during  the  life  of 
his  father,  and  to  putting  an  end  to  the  bold  practices  of  malefactors  by 
whom  the  country  was  at  once  much  injured  and  disgraced. 

Making  the  great  charter  the  standard  of  his  own  duty  cowards  the 
baronf>,  he  insisted  upon  the  same  standard  of  conduct  towards  their  vas- 
sals and  inferiors,  a  course  to  which  they  were  by  no  means  inclined. 

A-  p.  1275. — Having  summoned  a  parliament  to  meet  him  in  February, 
1275,  he  caused  several  valuable  laws  to  be  passed,  weeded  the  magistracy 
of  those  who  lay  under  the  imputation  of  either  negligence  or  corruption, 
and  took  measures  for  putting  a  check  alike  upon  the  robberies  committed 
by  the  great,  under  the  colour  of  justice  and  authority,  and  upon  those 
which,  in  the  loose  state  into  which  the  kingdom  had  fallen  during  the 
close  of  the  late  reign,  were  so  openly  and  daringly  committed  on  the 
highways,  that  men  of  substance  could  only  safely  travel  under  escort  or 
in  great  companies.  For  the  suppression  of  this  latter  class  of  crimes  tlie 
king  showed  a  fierce  and  determined  spirit,  which  might  almost  be  judged 
to  have  been  over  severe  if  we  did  not  take  into  consideration  the  des 


;•■<" 


THK  THBAdURY  OF  HISTORY. 


979 


perate  extent  to  which  the  evil  had  arrived.  T!ie  ordinary  Judgcn  were 
kntiniidated,  the  ordinary  police  was  weak  and  ill-org[;tnized,  and  the  king 
therefore  established  a  commission  which  was  appointed  to  traverse  the 
country,  taking  cognizance  of  every  description  of  evil  doing,  from  the 
pettiest  to  the  most  heinous,  and  inflicting  condign  and  prompt  punish- 
ment upon  the  offenders.  The  old  Saxon  mode  ofcommuting  other  punish- 
ments for  a  pecuniary  fine  was  applied  by  this  commission  to  minor  of- 
fences, and  a  large  sum  was  thus  raised,  of  which  the  king's  treasury  stood 
mucli  in  need.  But  the  zeal  of  this  commission — and  perhaps  some  con 
sideration  of  the  state  of  the  royal  treasury — caused  the  fines  to  be  ter- 
ribly severe  in  proportion  to  the  ofTences.  There  was,  also,  too  great  a 
readiness  to  commit  upon  slight  testimony ;  the  prisons  were  filled,  but 
not  with  the  guilty  alone  ;  the  ruffian  bands,  who  had  so  long  and  so  mis- 
chievously infested  the  kingdom,  were  broken  up,  indeed,  but  peaceable 
subjects  and  honest  men  were  much  harrassed  and  wronged  at  the  same 
time.  The  king  himself  was  so  satisfied  of  the  danger  of  entrusting  such 
extensive  powers  to  subjects,  that  when  this  commission  had  finished  its 
labours  it  was  annulled,  and  never  afterwards  called  into  activity. 

Though  Edward  showed  a  real  and  creditable  desire  to  preserve  his 
subjects,  of  all  ranks,  from  being  preyed  upon  by  each  other,  truth  com- 
pels us  to  confess  that  he  laid  no  similar  restraint  upon  himself.  Having 
made  what  profit  he  could  by  putting  down  the  thieves  and  other  offenders 
in  general,  Edward  now  turned  for  a  fresh  supply  to  that  thrifty  but  perse- 
cuted people,  the  Jews.  The  counterfeiting  of  coin  had  recently  been 
curried  on  to  a  most  injurious  extent,  and  the  Jews  being  chiefly  engaged 
in  trafficking  in  money,  this  mischievous  adulteration  was  very  positively, 
though  rather  hastily,  laid  to  their  charge.  A  general  persecution  of  the 
unhappy  people  commenced,  of  the  fierceness  aiid  extent  of  which  some 
judgment  may  be  formed  from  the  fact,  that  two  hundred  and  eighty  of 
them  were  hanged  in  London  alone.  While  death  was  inflicted  upon  many 
in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  the  houses  and  lands  of  still  more  were  seized 
upon  and  sold.  The  king,  indeed,  with  a  delicacy  which  did  not  always 
characterise  him  in  money  matters,  seized  in  the  first  instance  only  upon 
one  half  of  the  proceeds  of  these  confiscations,  the  other  being  set  apart  as 
a  fund  for  the  Jews  who  should  deem  fit  to  be  converted  to  Christianity; 
but  so  few  Jews  availed  themselves  of  the  temptation  thus  held  out  to 
them,  that  the  fund  was  in  reality  as  much  in  the  king's  possession  as 
though  no  such  provision  had  been  made.  It  had  been  well  for  Edward's 
character  if  this  severity  had  been  exercised  against  the  Jews  only  for  the 
crime  with  which  they  were  charged  ;  but,  urged  probably  still  more  by 
his  want  of  money  than  by  the  bigoted  hatred  to  this  race  which  he  had 
felt  from  his  earliest  youth,  Edward  shortly  after  commenced  a  persecu- 
tion against  the  whole  of  the  Jews  in  England ;  not  as  coiners  or  as  men 
concerned  in  any  other  crimes,  but  simply  as  being  Jews.  The  constant 
taxes  paid  by  these  people,  and  the  frequent  arbitrary  levies  of  large  sums 
upon  them,  made  them  in  reality  one  of  the  most  valuable  classes  of  Ed- 
ward's subjects  ;  for  whether  their  superior  wealth  was  obtained  by  great- 
er industry  and  frugality  than  others  possessed,  or  by  greater  ingenuity 
and  heartlessness  in  extortion,  certain  it  is  that  it  was  very  largely  shared 
with  their  sovereign.  But  the  slow  process  of  taillages  and  forced  loans 
did  not  suit  Edward's  purposes  or  wants ;  and  he  suddenly  issued  an  order 
for  the  simultaneous  banishment  of  the  whole  of  the  obnoxious  race,  and 
for  their  deprivation  of  the  whole  of  their  property,  with  the  exception  of 
so  much  as  was  requsite  to  carry  them  abroad.  Upwards  of  fifteen  thou- 
sand Jews  were  at  once  seized  and  plundered,  under  this  most  inexcusably 
tyrannous  decree ;  and  as  the  plundered  victims  left  the  country,  many  of 
them  were  robbed  at  the  sea-ports  of  the  miserable  pittance  which  the 
king's  cupidity  had  spared  them,  and  some  were  murdered  and  thrown 
into  the  sea. 


si%i 


ff 


28'l 


THR  XaBASUaV  OF  HISTORY. 


While  taking  this  cruel  and  dishonest  means  of  replenishing^  his  tre».^ 
iurv,  Edward  had  at  least  the  negative  merit  of  frugally  expending  whaflft 
he  had  unfairly  acquired.  ^P' 

Aided  by  parliament  with  a  grant  of  the  fifteenth  of  all  moveables,  by 
the  pope  with  a  tenth  of  the  church  revenues  for  three  years,  and  by  the 
merchants  with  an  export  tax  of  half  a  mark  on  each  sack  of  wool  and  a 
whole  mark  on  every  three  hundred  skins,  he  still  was  cramped  in  means; 
and  as  he  was  conscious  that  during  the  late  long  and  weak  reign  many 
encroachments  had  been  unfairly  made  upon  the  royal  demesnes,  he  issued 
a  commission  to  inquire  into  all  such  encroachmeats,  and  also  to  devise 
and  seek  the  best  and  most  speedy  ways  of  improving  the  various  branches 
of  the  revenue.  The  commission,  not  always  able  to  draw  the  line  between 
doubtful  acquisitions  and  hereditary  possessions  of  undoubted  rightfulness, 
pushed  their  inquiries  so  far  that  they  gave  great  offence  to  some  of  the 
nobility.  Among  others  they  applied  to  the  Earl  Warenne,  wHo  so  brave- 
ly supported  the  crown  against  the  ambition  of  Leicester  during  the  late 
reign,  for  the  title  deeds  of  his  possessions ;  but  the  indignant  earl  drew 
his  sword  and  said,  that  as  his  ancestors  had  acquired  it  by  the  sword  so 
he  would  keep  it,  and  that  he  held  it  by  the  same  right  that  Edward  helH 
his  crown.  This  incident  and  the  general  discontent  of  the  nobles  deter- 
mined the  king  to  limit  the  commission  for  the  future  to  cases  of  undoubt- 
ed trespass  and  encroachment. 

A.D.  1276. — Not  even  pecuniary  necessities  and  the  exertion  necessary 
to  supply  them  could  prevent  Edward's  active  and  warlike  spirit  from 
seeking  employment  in  the  field.  Against  Llewellyn,  prince  of  Wales, 
Edward  had  great  cause  of  anger.  He  had  been  a  zealous  partizan  of 
Leicester;  and  though  he  had  been  pardoned,  in  common  with  the  other 
barons,  yet  there  had  always  been  something  of  jealousy  towards  him  in 
the  mind  of  Edward,  which  jealousy  was  now  fanned  into  a  flame  by 
Llewellyn  refusing  to  trust  himself  in  England  to  do  homage  to  Edward, 
unless  the  king's  eldest  son  and  some  nobles  were  putinto  the  hands  of  the 
Welsh  as  hostages,  and  unless  Llewellyn's  bride,  a  daughter  of  the  earl  of 
Leicester,  who  had  been  captured  on  her  way  to  Wales  and  was  detained 
at  Edward's  court,  were  released. 

A.  D.  1277. — Edward  was  not  sorry  to  hear  demands,  his  refusal  to  com- 
ply with  which  would  give  him  the  excuse  he  wished  for,  to  march  into 
Wales.  He  accordingly  gave  Llewellyn  no  other  answer  than  a  renewal 
of  his  order  to  him  to  come  and  do  homage,  and  an  offer  of  a  personal  safe 
conduct. 

Edward  was  both  aided  and  urged  into  his  invasion  of  Wales  by  David 
and  Roderick,  brothers  of  Llewellyn,  who  having  been  despoiled  of  their 
inheritance  by  that  prince,  had  now  sought  shelter  and  taken  service  with 
bis  most  formidable  enemy. 

When  the  English  approached  Wales,  Llewellyn  and  his  people  retired 
to  the  mountain  fastnesses  of  Snowdown,  judging  that  he  could  maintain 
against  Edward  that  desultory  warfare  which  hadharrassed  and  tired  out 
the  Saxon  and  Norman  invaders  of  an  earlier  day.  But  instead  of  expos- 
ing his  forces  to  being  harrassed  and  beaten  in  detail,  Edward  guarded 
every  pass  which  led  to  the  inaccessable  retreats  of  the  enemy,  and  then 
coolly  waited  until  sheer  hunger  should  dispose  them  either  to  treat  or  to 
fight.  Nor  was  it  long  in  occurring ;  brave  as  LInwellyn  was,  he  saw 
himself  so  completely  hemmed  in  that  he  was  unable  to  strike  a  blow, 
and  he  was  compelled  to  submit  to  the  terms  dictated  to  him  by  Edward. 
And  severe  those  terms  were  ;  Llewellyn  was  to  pay  50,000/  by  way  of 
expenses  of  the  war ;  to  do  homage  to  the  king ;  to  allow  all  the  barons 
of  Wales,  save  four  of  those  nearest  to  Snowdown,  to  swear  fealty  to  Ed- 
ward ;  to  yield  to  the  English  crown  the  whole  of  the  country  between 
the  river  Conway  and  the  county  of  Cheshire ;  to  settle  a  thousand  marks 


't 


safe 


itired 

ntain 

out 

ip03' 

arded 
then 
or  to 
saw 
dIow, 
rard. 
|iy  of 
aiona 
Ed- 
ireen 
larks 


{UHL  VaUNHK  OSFJtNDIHO  TBI  TiTLK  TO  HIS  BaTATU. 


M 


^^u 


<'*  t ' 


^^a^f" 


/f^ir.vu.i  Si 


TUB  TBBABURY  OF  HiaTOHY. 


K\ 


per  year  on  his  brother  Roderick  and  h^lf  that  sum  upon  David;  and  lu 
give  ten  hostages  Tor  his  future  good  and  peaceable  behaviour.  All  tlie 
articles  having  been  duly  oerformed,  with  the  exception  o(  the  large  sum 
orfirty  thousand  pounds,  Edward  forgave  thiit;  and  considering  his  great 
love  of  money,  or  rather  his  great  need  of  it,  we  may  suppose  that  he 
gave  up  so  large  a  sum  only  because  the  payment  of  it  was  rendered  im* 
possible  by  the  excessive  poverty  of  the  country. 

But  the  imperfect  subjection  of  a  country  like  Wales  could  not  co-exist 
with  peace.  Tiie  Welsh,  impetuous,  proud  and  courageous,  remembered 
the  noble  and  obstinate  defences  their  land  had  formerly  made  ;  the  En- 
glish, on  the  other  hand,  referred  in  tones  of  insoleitce  and  taunting  to  the 
bloodless  and  undisputed  conquest  they  had  now  made.  The  lords  of  the 
marches,  too,  connived  at  or  encouraged  many  insults  and  depredations ; 
a  seneral  spirit  prevailed  among  the  Welsh  that  preferred  destruction  it- 
self to  the  insults  they  had  to  endure,  and  this  spirit  caused  David  to  for- 
get his  personal  wrongs,  and  to  join  hand  and  heart  with  his  brother  in 
opposing  the  English.  The  Welsh  flew  to  arms,  and  Edward  entered 
their  country  with  an  army  which  seemed  to  leave  them  but  little  hope. 
Luke  de  Tenay,  commanding  a  detachment  of  Edward's  troops,  was  at- 
tacked as  he  passed  the  Menai,  and  his  defeat  inspired  the  Welsh  with  the 
most  extravagant  hopes ;  but  Llewellyn  was  shortly  afterwards  surprised 
by  Mortimer,  defeated,  and  killed  in  the  action,  together  with  upwards  of 
two  thousand  of  his  men.  David  who  now  succeeded  to  the  Welsh  sover- 
eignty, exerted  himself,  but  in  vain,  to  collect  another  army  suflUciently 
numerous  to  allow  of  his  facing  Edward  in  the  open  field.  Terror  had 
been  struck  into  the  inmost  heart  of  the  people  by  the  defeat  and  death 
of  Llewellyn.  David  with  a  few  followers  was  obliged  to  seek  shelter 
among  the  most  difficult  fastnesses  of  his  native  hills,  and  he  was  at  length 
betrayed  to  Edward  and  sent  in  chains  to  Shrewsbury,  where  he  was  tried 
by  the  English  peers,  and  condemned  to  be  hanged,  drawn,  and  quartered, 
as  a  traitor — a  sentence  so  disgraceful  to  Edward,  that  not  even  his  deeds 
of  a  brighter  and  nobler  character  can  wash  off  the  stain  of  it. 

The  death  of  Llewellyn  and  David  put  an  end  to  all  hope  of  successful 
opposition  on  the  part  of  the  Welsh,  who  fully  submitted  ;  English  laws 
and  English  officers  were  permanently  established,  and  Edward  conferred 
the  principality  upon  his  eldest  surviving  son,  the  prince  Edward,  who  was 
born  at  Caernarvon. 

A.  D.  1286. — Though,  as  was  inevitable,  some  national  rancours  still  ex 
isted  between  the  two  people,  the  Welsh  were  now  so  completely  sub- 
dued, that  Edward  found  himself  at  liberty  to  go  abroad  to  interfere  in  the 
diflferences  which  had  arisen  between  Alphonso,  king  of  Arragon,  and 
Philip  the  Fair,  of  France,  who  disputed  the  kingdom  of  Sicily.  While 
Edward  was  engaged  in  settling  this  dispute,  which  occupied  him  for 
nearly  three  years,  his  absence  from  England  had  given  rise  to  numerous 
discvders  and  mischiefs.  The  administration  of  justice  was  openly  defied 
by  lawless  bands  ;  and  robberies  had  become  nearly  as  common  as  they 
were  before  the  severe  examples  made  at  the  beginning  of  his  reign. 

The  disputes  which  existed  in  Scotland  about  the  crown  of  that  king- 
dom gave  Edward  an  opportunity,  of  which  he  was  not  slow  to  avail  him- 
self, to  interfere  in  the  affairs  of  that  nation ;  and  at  every  interference 
he  made  larger  and  more  obvious  claims,  not  to  the  mere  fealty  of  its  king 
but  to  its  actual  sovereignty. 

A.  D.  1292. — The  two  principal  competitors  were  Baliol  and  Bruce.  It 
was  agreed  that  Edward  should  arbitrate  between  them,  and  the  castles 
of  Scotland  were  put  into  his  hands.  This  demand,  alone,  would  go  far 
to  show  Edward's  real  intentions ;  yet,  while  he  was  fully  bent  upon  sul> 
duing  Scotland  to  his  own  rule,  he  put  the  dispute  upon  the  true  footing, 
as  though  he  meant  to  act  justly,  in  the  following  question  to  the  com- 


283 


THB  TKRA8URY  OP  HISTORY. 


miaiionorii  appointed  to  report  to  him  on  the  case,  and  to  the  principal 
Ifcgists  or  Kurope.  Has  a  person  descended  from  an  elder  sister,  but  (ar< 
thur  reinovud  by  one  degree,  the  preference  as  to  succession  to  a  kingdom, 
to  one  descended  from  a  younger  sister,  but  one  degree  nearer  to  tlie 
common  stock  1  This  question  was  answered  him  in  the  affirmative ;  and 
Baliol,  being  in  the  first  category,  was  pronounced  by  Edward  to  be  the 
rightful  sovereign  ;  a  decision  which  so  much  enraged  Bruce  thai  he  joined 
himself  to  Lord  Hastings,  who  was  another  claimant,  but  only  for  a  por- 
tion of  the  kingdom,  which  he  maintained  to  be  divisible. 

A.  D.  1293. — John  Baliol  having  taken  the  oath  of  fealty  to  Edward  at 
his  feudal  superior,  was  put  into  possession  both  of  his  throne  and  the 
ortresses  of  the  kingdom.  But  having  thus  far  acted  with  apparent  good 
faith,  Edward  now  began  to  exercise  his  feudal  authority  in  so  vexatious 
a  manner,  that  it  was  quite  evident  that  he  desired  either  to  cause  Baliol 
to  throw  up  his  sovereignty  in  disgust,  or  to  burst  out  into  '*  some  sudden 
flood  of  mutiny,"  such  as  would  by  the  feudal  usages  cause  the  forfeiture 
of  his  flef.  He  gave  every  encouragement  to  appeals  to  his  authority  from 
that  of  the  Scottish  king,  harassed  Baliol  by  repeated  summonses  to  Lon- 
don upon  matters  comparatively  trivinl,  and  instead  of  allowing  him  to 
answer  by  his  procurator,  compelled  him  to  appear  personally  at  the  bar 
of  the  English  parliament.  Such  treatment  could  not  fail  to  urge  even 
the  quiet  temper  of  Baliol  into  anger,  and  he  at  length  returned  into  Scot- 
land with  the  full  determination  to  abide  the  chances  of  a  war  rather  than 
continue  to  endure  such  insults.  In  this  determination  he  was  encour- 
aged by  a  dispute  in  which  Edward  was  now  involved  in  another  quarter. 

It  will  readily  be  understood  that  in  an  age  in  which  robbery  and  vio- 
lence were  so  common  on  land,  piracy  and  violence  were  no  less  common 
upon  the  sea ;  and  both  French  and  English  sailors  were  but  too  ready 
to  engage  in  contests,  without  care  as  to  tTie  possible  consequences  to  their 
respective  countries.  It  chanced  that  a  Norman  and  an  English  vessel 
met  off  Bayonne,  and  both  sending  a  boat  ashore  for  water  the  parties 
quarielled  at  the  spring.  From  words  they  proceeded  to  blows,  and  one 
of  the  Normans  having  drawn  a  knife,  an  Englishman  closed  with  him ; 
both  fell,  and  the  Norman  died  on  the  spot ;  the  English  alledging  that  he 
«ccidentally  fell  upon  his  own  knife,  the  Normans  loudly  affirming  that  he 
was  stabbed.  The  Normans  complained  to  King  Philip,  who  bade  them 
avenge  themselves  without  troubling  him.  The  words,  if  lightly  spoken, 
were  taken  in  all  seriousness ;  the  Normans  seized  upon  an  English  ship, 
hanged  some  of  the  crew  side  by  side  with  an  equal  number  of  dogs,  and 
dismissed  the  rest  of  the  ship's  company,  tauntingly  assuring  them  that 
they  had  now  satisfactorily  avenged  the  Norman  sailor  who  was  killed  at 
Bayonne. 

When  this  intelligence  reached  the  mariners  of  the  Cinque  ports 
they  retaliated  upon  French  vessels,  and  thus  an  actual  war  was  soon 
raging  between  the  two  nations  without  a  formal  declaration  of  hostility 
having  been  made  or  sanctioned  by  either  sovereign.  As  the  quarrel  pro- 
ceeded it  grew  more  and  more  savage ;  seamen  of  other  nations  took  part 
in  it,  the  Irish  and  Dutch  joining  the  English,  the  Genoese  and  Flemish 
joining  the  French.  At  length  an  incident  in  th  s  singular  war  rendered 
it  impossible  for  Edward  and  Philip  any  longer  to  remain  mere  spectators 
of  it.  A  Norman  fleet,  numbering  two  hundred  vessels,  sailed  southward 
for  a  cargo  of  wine,  and  to  convey  a  considerable  military  force ;  and  this 
powerful  fleet  seized  on  every  English  ship  it  met  with,  plundered  the  goods, 
and  hanged  the  seamen.  This  news  more  than  ever  enraged  the  English 
sailors,  who  got  together  a  well-manned  fleet  of  sixty  sail,  and  M'ent  in 
quest  of  the  Normans,  wb^"  they  met  with  and  defeated,  taking  or  sink- 
ing most  of  the  vessels ;  .uu.  ihese  being  closely  stowed  with  military, 
and  the  English  giving  no  quarter,  it  was  asserted  that  the  Norman  loss 


THR  TRIA8URY  OF  HI8TUHY. 


him; 

I  at  he 

lathe 

them 

ipoken, 

ship, 

gs,  and 

that 

led  at 

ports 
soon 
ostility 
el  pro- 
ak  part 
emi8h 
iidered 
ctators 
thward 
nd  this 
({oods, 
English 
ent  in 
r  sink* 
ilitary, 
n  loss 


was  not  leas  than  firtcen  thousand  men;  an  enormous  loss  at  any  time, 
but  especially  so  in  an  age  when  battles  which  altered  the  destinies  of  em* 
pires  were  freouently  decided  at  a  far  less  expense  of  liTe. 

Philip  now  demanded  redress  from  Kdwara,  who  coldly  replied  that  the 
English  courts  were  open  to  any  Frenchman  who  had  complaints  to  make  ; 
and  then  he  offered  to  refer  the  whole  quarrel  to  the  pope,  or  to  any  cardi- 
nals  whom  himself  and  Philip  might  agree  upon.  But  the  parties  most 
concerned  in  the  quarrel  were  by  this  time  too  much  enraged  to  hold  their 
hands  on  account  of  negotiations  ;  and  Philip,  finding  that  the  violence  was 
in  no  wise  discountenanced  by  Edward,  summoned  him,  as  duke  of  Qui- 
enne  and  vassal  of  France,  to  appear  in  his  liege  lord's  court  at  Paris  and 
answer  for  tlie  ofTences  his  subjects  had  committed. 

A.  D.  1294 — The  king  instructed  John  St.  John  to  put  Ouienne  into  a 
state  of  defence,  and  at  the  same  time  endeavoured  to  ward  off  attack  from 
it  by  sending  his  brother,  the  earl  of  Lancaster,  to  Paris  to  mediate  with 
Philip.  The  earl  of  Lancaster  having  married  the  queen  of  Navarre, 
mother  of  Jane,  the  queen  of  France,  the  latter  offered  him  her  aid  in 
accommodating  the  dispute ;  and  the  queen-dowager  of  France  joined  her, 
in  all  apparent  good  faith.  But  the  two  princesses  were  acting  most 
insidiously.  They  assured  the  earl  that  if  Edward  would  give  Philip 
siezin  or  possession  of  Guienne,  to  heal  the  wound  his  honour  had  receiv- 
ed from  his  sub- vassals  of  that  province,  Philip  would  at  once  be  satisfied 
and  immediately  restore  it.    To  this  Edward  agreed,  and  gave  up  the 

Crovince  as  soon  as  his  citation  to  Paris  was  withdrawn  ;  but  the  moment 
e  had  done  so,  he  was  again  cited,  and,  on  his  non-appearance,  con- 
demned to  forfeit  Guienne.  The  trick  thus  played  by  Philip  was  so  pre- 
cisely similar  to  that  which  Edward  had  himself  planned  for  Scotland, 
that  It  is  truly  wonderful  how  so  astute  a  prince  could  ever  have  fallen 
blindfold  into  such  an  uncovered  pit. 

A.  D.  1295. — Edward  sent  an  army  to  Guienne,  under  the  command  of 
his  nephew,  John  de  Bretaene,  earl  of  Richmond,  together  with  John  St 
John,  and  other  officers  of  known  courage  and  ability ;  and  as  his  projects 
upon  Scotland  did  not  enable  him  to  spare  so  many  regular  soldiers  ae 
were  needed,  he  on  this  occasion  opened  all  the  gaols  of  England  and 
added  the  most  desperate  of  their  tenants  to  the  force  he  sent  over  to  France. 

While  a  variety  of  petty  actions  were  carried  on  in  France,  Philip  en- 
deavoured to  cause  a  diversion  in  his  favour  by  entering  into  an  alliance 
with  John  Baliol,  king  of  Scotland ;  and  he,  smarting  under  the  insults  of 
Edward  and  longing  for  revenge,  eagerly  entered  into  this  alliance,  and 
strengthened  it  by  stipulating  a  marriage  between  his  own  son  and  the 
daughter  of  Charles  de  Valois. 

A.  D.  1296. — Conscious  how  deep  was  the  offence  he  had  given  to  Baliol, 
Edward  had  too  carefully  watched  him  to  be  unawue  of  his  alliance  with 
France;  and  having  now  obtained  considerable  supplies  from  his  parlia- 
ment, which  was  more  popularly  composed  than  heretofore,  he  prepared 
to  chastise  Scotland  on  the  slightest  occasion.  In  the  hope,  therefore,  of 
creating  one,  he  sent  a  haughty  message  desiring  Baliol,  as  his  vassal,  to 
send  him  forces  to  aid  him  in  his  war  with  France.  He  next  demanded 
that  the  castles  of  Berwick,  Roxburgh,  and  Jedburgh  should  be  placed  in 
his  hands  during  the  French  war,  as  security  for  the  Scottish  fidelity  :  and 
then  summoned  Baliol  to  appear  before  the  English  parliament  at  New- 
castle. Baliol,  faithful  to  his  own  purpose  and  to  the  treaty  that  he  had 
made  with  Philip,  complied  with  none  of  these  demands ;  and  Edward 
having  thus  received  the  ostensible  offence  which  he  desired,  advanced 
upon  Scotland  with  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  foot  and  four  thousand 
horse. 

The  military  skill  of  Baliol  being  held  in  no  very  high  esteem  in 
Scotland,  a  council  of  twelve  of  the  most  eminent  nobles  was  appointed 


9Ai 


THE  THJCASUHY  OF  HIOTOHY. 


to  advJM  and  amiit  hini — in  other  worda  to  act,  fur  the  timr,  al  leuat,  u 
••  viceruyn  over  him." 

Under  thf;  inniingnnumt  of  thia  council  vigoroun  preparations  wore  made 
to  oppose  Kdwnrd.  An  army  of  forty  thoufliind  foot  and  ahout  Avt;  hurid- 
rod  iiorao  marched,  after  a  vain  and  not  wry  wiacly  planned  nttcmut  upon 
Carlisle,  to  defend  the  southeastern  provinces  threatened  with  Kdwurd's 
flrst  attacks.  Already,  however,  divisions  began  to  appear  in  tiie  Scottish 
councils ;  and  the  Bruces,  the  eurls  of  March  and  Angus,  and  other  eminent 
Scots,  saw  so  much  danger  to  their  country  from  such  a  divided  host  at- 
tempting to  defend  it  agamst  so  powerful  u  monarch,  that  they  look  the 
opportunity  to  make  an  early  submisnoii  to  him.  Kdwitrd  had  crosHcd  ilie 
Tw"ed  at  ('oldstream  without  experiencing  any  opposition  of  either  word 
or  deed ;  but  here  he  received  a  magniloquent  letter  from  Uuliol,  who,  hav- 
ing obtained  from  Pope  Celestine  an  absolution  of  both  himself  and  his  na- 
tion from  the  oath  they  had  taken,  now  solemnly  renounced  the  homage 
he  had  done,  and  defied  Edward. 

Little  regarding  mere  words,  Edward  had  from  the  first  moment  of  com- 
mencing  his  enterprise  been  intent  upon  deeds.  Berwick  had  been  taken 
by  assault,  eovcn  thousand  of  tho  garrison  put  to  the  sword,  and  Sir  \Vi|. 
iiam  Douglas,  the  governor,  made  prisoner ;  and  now  twelve  thousand  men 
under  the  command  of  the  veteran  earl  Warcnne,  were  despatched  against 
Dunbar,  which  was  garrisoned  by  the  very  best  of  Scotland's  nobility  and 
gentry.  Alarmed  lest  Dunbar  should  bo  taken,  and  their  whole  country 
thus  be  laid  open  to  the  English,  the  Scots  marched  an  immense  urmy  to 
the  relief  of  that  place ;  but  the  earl  Warenne,  though  his  numbers  were 
so  inferior,  attacked  them  so  vigorously  that  they  fled  with  a  loss  of  twenty 
thousand  men ;  and  Edward  with  his  main  army  coming  up  on  the  follow- 
ing day,  the  garrison  perceived  that  further  resistance  was  hopeless,  and 
surrendered  at  discretion.  The  castles  of  Roxburgh,  Edinburgh,  and  Stir- 
ling now  surrendered  to  Edward  in  rapid  succession ;  and  all  the  southern 
parts  of  Scotland  being  subdued,  Edward  sent  detachments  of  Irish  and 
Welsh,  skilled  in  mountain  warfare,  to  follow  the  fugitives  to  their  reces- 
ses amidst  the  mountains  and  islets  of  the  north. 

But  the  rapid  successes  which  already  attended  the  arms  of  Edward  had 
completely  astounded  the  Scots,  and  put  them  into  a  state  of  depression 
proportioned  to  the  confidence  they  had  formerly  felt  of  seeing  the  inva- 
der beaten  back.  Their  heavy  losses  and  the  dissensions  among  their 
leaders  rendered  it  impossible  for  them  to  get  together  anything  like  an 
imposing  force ;  and  Baliol  himself  put  the  crowning  stroke  to  his  coun- 
try's calamity  by  hastening,  ere  the  resources  of  his  people  could  be  fully 
ascertained,  to  make  his  submission  once  more  to  that  invader  to  whom 
he  hb<-  hut  lately  sent  so  loud  and  so  gratuitous  a  defiance.  He  not 
merely  apologized  in  the  most  humble  terras  for  his  breach  of  fealty  to  his 
liege  lord,  but  made  a  solemn  and  final  surrender  of  his  crown ;  and  Ed- 
ward, having  received  the  homage  of  the  king,  marched  northward  only 
to  be  received  with  like  humility  by  the  people,  not  a  man  of  whom  ap- 
proached him  but  to  pay  him  homage  or  tender  him  service.  Having  thus, 
to  all  outward  appearance,  at  least,  reduced  Scotland  to  the  most  perfect 
obedience,  Edward  marched  his  army  south  and  returned  to  England  car- 
rying with  him  the  celebrated  inauguration-stone  of  the  Scots,  to  which 
there  was  a  superstition  attached,  that  wherever  this  stone  should  be,  there 
should  be  the  government  of  Scotland.  Considering  the  great  power 
which  such  legends  had  at  that  time,  Edward  was  not  to  blame,  perhaps, 
for  this  capture  ;  but  the  same  cannot  be  said  of  his  wanton  order  for  the 
destruction  of  the  national  records. 

Baliol,  though  his  weak  character  must  have  very  effectually  placed  him 
beyond  the  fear  or  suspicion  of  Edward,  was  confined  in  the  Tower  of 
Loudon  for  two  years,  at  the  end  of  which  time  he  was  allowed  to  retire 


THE  TRKA8URY  OV  HISTORT 


98A 


Iward  had 

cpression 

ie  inva- 

ong  their 

like  an 

18  coun- 

be  fully 

to  whom 

He  not 

ty  to  his 

and  Ed- 

'ard  only 

lom  ap- 

ving  thus, 

perfect 

and  car- 

to  which 

be,  there 

power 

perhaps, 

3r  for  the 

aced  him 
Power  of 
to  retire 


it 


to  FrancR,  where  he  remsinfld  during  the  rest  of  hia  life  in  thM  privai* 
itBtion  for  which  hia  liinitfd  talcnta  and  hia  timid  temper  b<!Ht  Atted  hint 
The  govornment  of  Ncotland  wan  entrualed  to  Karl  Warenne,  who,  both 
from  policy  and  predilection,  took  care  that  Knglishmcn  were  preferred 
to  all  offlcea  of  proAt  and  influence. 

In  (iluienne  Kdward'a  arma  had  b*)iMi  leaa  auccpasful ;  hia  brother  the 
earl  of  Lnncaiitpr  had  at  first  obtained  some  advantag(.>a ;  but,  he  dying, 
the  earl  of  Lincoln,  who  succeeditd  to  the  command,  was  not  able  tn  make 
any  proi^ress.  Edward's  success  in  Wales  and  Scotland,  had,  however, 
made  bun  more  than  ever  impatient  of  failure ;  and  he  now  projected  auch 
I  conf«)deracy  against  the  king  of  France  aa,  he  imagined,  could  not  fail 
to  wr«st  (juienne  from  him.  In  pursuance  of  this  plan,  ho  gave  hia  daugh- 
ter, tlie  princess  Klizabnth,  to  John,  earl  of  Holland ;  and  at  the  same  time 
stipulated  to  pay  to  Guy,  earl  of  Flanders,  the  sum  of  75,000/.  as  his  sub> 
silly  for  joining  him  in  the  invasion  of  the  territory  of  their  common  enemy, 
Philip  oif  France.  Kdward'a  plan,  ;i  very  feasible  one,  was  to  naaemble 
all  hia  allies  and  march  against  Philip's  own  capital,  when  Philip  would 
most  probably  be  glad  to  remove  the  threatened  danger  from  himself  by 
giving  up  Guionne.  As  a  large  sum  of  money  was  requisite  to  carry  out 
the  king  a  designs  he  applied  to  parliament,  who  granted  him — the  barons 
and  knights — a  twelfth  of  all  moveables,  and  the  boroughs  an  eighth.  But 
if  the  king  laid  an  unfair  proportion  of  hia  charges  upon  the  Imroughs,  he 
proposed  still  more  unfairly  to  tax  the  clergy,  from  whom  he  demanded 
a  flfth  of  their  moveables.  Pope  Boniface  VIII.  on  mounting  the  papal 
throne  had  issued  a  bull  forbidding  the  princes  of  all  Christian  nations  to 
tax  the  clergy  without  the  express  consent  of  Rome,  and  equally  forbid- 
ding the  clergy  to  pay  any  tax  unless  so  <<anctioned ;  and  the  English 
clergy  gladly  sheltered  themselves  under  that  bull,  now  that  the  king  pro- 
posed to  burden  them  so  shamefully  out  of  all  proportion  to  his  chargcB 
upon  other  orders  of  his  subjects.  Though  Edward  was  much  enraged  at 
the  ta(;il  opposition  of  the  clergy,  he  did  not  instantly  proceed  to  any  vio- 
lence, but  caused  all  the  barns  of  the  clergy  to  be  locked  up  and  prohibited 
all  payment  of  rent  to  them.  Having  given  thus  much  intimation  of  his 
determination  to  persist  in  his  demand,  ne  appointed  a  new  synod  to  con 
fer  with  him  upon  its  reasonableness ;  but  Robert  de  Winchelsey,  arch 
bishop  of  Canterbury,  who  had  suggested  to  Boniface  that  bull  cf  whici 
the  clergy  were  now  availing  themselves,  plainly  told  the  king  that  th« 
clergy  owed  obedience  to  both  a  temporal  and  a  spiritual  sovereign,  and 
that  the  obedience  due  to  the  former  would  bear  no  comparison  as  to  im- 
portance with  that  which  was  due  to  the  latter*  and  that  consequently  it 
was  impossible  that  they  could  pay  a  tax  demanded  by  the  king  when  they 
were  expressly  forbidden  to  pay  it  by  the  pope. 

A.D.  1297. — Really  in  need  of  money,  and  at  the  same  time  equally  de 
sirous  of  avoiding  an  open  quarrel  with  the  pope  on  the  one  hand,  and  of 
making  any  concessions  to  obtain  a  relaxation  of  his  bull  on  the  other, 
Edward  coolly  replied  that  they  who  would  not  support  the  civil  power 
could  not  fairly  expect  to  be  protected  by  it.  He  accordingly  gave  orders 
to  all  his  judges  to  consider  the  clergy  as  wholly  out  of  his  protection. 
He,  of  course,  was  obeyed  to  the  letter.  If  any  one  had  a  suit  against  a 
clerk  the  plaintiff  was  sure  of  success,  whatever  the  merits  of  his  case, 
for  neither  the  defendant  nor  his  witness  could  he  heard ;  on  the  other 
hand,  no  matter  how  grossly  a  clerk  might  have  been  wronged  in  matters 
not  cognizable  by  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  all  redress  was  refused  him  at 
the  very  threshold  of  those  courts  whose  doors  were' thrown  open  to  th» 
meanest  layman  in  the  land. 

Of  such  a  state  of  things  the  people,  already  sufficiently  prone  to  plun- 
der, were  not  slow  to  avail  themselves  ;  and  to  be  a  clerk  and  to  be  plun- 
dered and  insulted  were  prettly  nearly  one  and  the  same  thing.    The  rents 


THE  TaSASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


both  in  money  and  in  kind  were  cut  off  from  the  convent! ;  and  if  tne 
moiricB,  in  peril  of  being  starved  at  home,  rode  forth  in  seach  of  subais- 
tence,  robbers,  emboldened  by  the  king's  rule,  if  not  actually  prompted  by 
his  secret  orders,  robbed  them  pitilessly  of  money,  apparel  and  horses, 
and  sent  them  back  to  their  convents  still  poorer  and  in  a  worse  plight 
than  they  had  left  them.  The  archbishop  of  Canterbury  issued  a  general 
excommunication  against  all  who  took  part  in  these  shameful  proceedings; 
but  it  was  little  attended  to,  and  had  no  effect  in  checking  the  spoliation 
of  the  clergy,  upon  which  the  king  looked  with  the  utmost  indifference, 
or,  rather,  with  the  double  satisfaction  arising  from  feeling  that  the  losses 
of  the  clergy  would  at  length  induce  them  to  submit,  even  in  despite  of 
their  veneration  for  the  papal  commands,  and  that  the  people  were  thus 
gradually  accustoming  themselves  to  look  with  less  awe  upon  the  papal 
power.  Whether,  in  wishing  the  latter  consummation,  Edward  wished 
wisely  for  his  successors  we  need  not  now  stay  to  discuss ;  in  anticipating 
the  former  consummation  he  most  assuredly  was  quite  correct;  for  the 
clergy  soon  began  to  grow  weary  of  a  passive  struggle  in  which  they  were 
being  tortured  imperceptibly  and  incessantly,  without  either  the  dignity  of 
martyrdom  or  the  hope  of  its  reward.  The  northern  province  of  York  had 
from  the  first  paid  the  fifth  demanded  by  the  king,  not  in  any  preference 
of  his  orders  to  those  of  the  pope,  nor,  certainly,  with  any  peculiar  and 
personal  predilection  for  being  taxed  beyond  their  ability,  but  because  their 
proximity  to  Scotland  gave  them  a  fearful  personal  interest  in  the  ability 
of  the  king  to  have  sufficient  force  at  his  command.  The  bishops  of  Sal- 
isbury and  Ely,  and  some  others,  next  cime  in  and  offered  not  indeed  /i(- 
erally  to  disobey  the  pope  by  paying  the  fifth  directly  to  Edward,  but  to 
deposit  equivalent  sums  in  certain  appointed  places  whence  they  could  be 
taKen  by  the  king's  collectors.  Those  who  could  not  command  ready 
money  for  this  sort  of  commutation  of  the  king's  demand  privily  entered 
into  recognizances  for  the  payment  at  a  future  time,  and  thus  either  di- 
rectly or  indirectly,  mediately  or  immediately,  the  whole  of  the  clergy 
paid  the  king's  exorbitant  demand,  though  reason  warranted  them  in  a  re- 
sistance which  had  the  formal  sanction,  nay  the  express  command,  of  their 
spiritual  sovereign.  In  this  we  see  a  memorable  instance  of  the  same 
power  applied  to  different  men ;  the  power  that  would  have  crushed  the 
weak  John,  however  just  his  cause,  was  now,  with  a  bold  and  triumphant 
contempt,  set  at  naught  by  the  intrepid  and  politic  Edward,  thougli  it  op- 
posed him  in  a  demand  which  was  both  shameful  in  its  extent  and  illegal 
even  in  the  manner  of  its  imposition. 

But  with  all  this  assistance,  the  supplies  which  Edward  obtained  still 
fell  far  short  of  his  necessities,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  contrived  to 
make  up  the  difference  was  characterized  by  the  injustice  which  was  the 
one  great  blot  upon  what  would  otherwise  have  been  a  truly  glorious  reign. 
Though  the  merchants  had  ever  shown  great  willingness  to  assist  him,  he 
now  arbitrarily  fixed  a  limit  to  the  exportation  of  woo],  and  as  arbitrarily 
levied  a  duty  of  forty  shillings  on  each  sack,  being  something  more  than 
a  third  of  its  full  value !  Nor  did  his  injustice  stop  here ;  this,  indeed,  was 
the  least  of  it ;  for  he  immediately  afterwards  seized  all  the  wool  that  re- 
mained in  the  kingdom,  and  all  the  leather,  and  sold  them  for  his  own  ben- 
efit. The  sheriffs  of  each  county  were  empowered  to  seize  for  him  two 
thousand  quarters  of  wheat  and  two  thousand  of  oats.  Cattle  and  otlier 
requisites  were  seized  in  the  same  wholesale  and  unceremonious  fashion ; 
and  though  these  seizures  were  made  under  promise  to  pay,  the  sufferers 
naturally  placed  little  reliance  upon  such  promise  made  under  such  cir- 
cumstances. In  the  recruiting  of  his  army  Edward  acted  quite  as  arbi- 
trarily as  in  provisioning  it;  compelling  every  proprietor  of  land  to  pay 
Jhe  yearly  value  of  twenty  pounds,  either  to  serve  in  person  or  find  a  proxy 
even  though  his  land  were  not  held  by  military  tenure.    Notwithstanding 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


287 


to  pay 
I  proxy 
landing 


the  great  popularity  of  Edward,  and  the  terror  of  his  power,  he  cuiild  not 
under  such  circumstanceei  of  provocation  prevent  the  people  from  murmur* 
ing ;  nor  were  the  murmurs  confined  to  the  poorer  sort  or  those  who  were 
personally  sufferers  from  the  king's  arbitrary  conduct,  but  the  highest  no- 
bles also  felt  the  outrage  that  was  committed  upon  the  general  principle 
of  liberty.  Of  this  feeling  Edward  wa:>  made  aware  as  soon  as  he  had 
completed  his  preparations.  He  divided  his  forces  into  two  armies,  in-, 
tendmg  to  assail  France  on  the  side  of  Flanders  with  one  of  them,  and  to 
Bcnd  the  other  to  assail  it  on  the  sido  of  Gascony.  But  when  everything 
was  ready  and  the  troops  actually  assembled  on  the  sea  coast,  Roger  Bigod, 
earl  of  Norfolk  and  marshal  of  Kngland,  and  Bohun,  earl  of  Hereford  and 
constable  of  England,  to  whom  he  intended  to  entrust  the  Gascon  portion 
of  his  expedition,  refused  to  take  charge  of  it,  on  the  plea  that  by  their 
offices  thev  were  only  bound  to  attend  upon  his  person  during  his  wars. 
Little  used  to  be  thwarted,  the  king  was  greatly  enraged  at  this  refusal, 
and  in  the  hieh  words  that  passed  upon  the  occasion  he  exclaimed  to  the 
earl  of  Hereford,  *' By  God,  Sir  Earl,  you  shall  either  go  or  hang;"  to  which 
Hereford  coolly  replied,  "  By  God,  Sir  King,  I  will  neither  go  nor  hang ;" 
and  he  immediately  left  the  expedition,  taking  with  him  above  thirty  other 
powerful  barons  and  their  numerous  followers. 

Finding  himself  thus  considerably  weakened  in  actual  numbers,  and 
BtiU  more  so  by  the  moral  effect  this  dispute  had  upon  men's  minds,  Ed- 
ward now  gave' up  the  Gascon  portion  of  his  expeditior. ;  but  the  opposi- 
tion was  not  yet  at  an  end,  for  the  two  earls  now  refui:  'd  to  perform  their 
duty  on  the  ground  that  their  ancestors  had  never  served  in  Flanders. 
Not  knowing  how  far  the  same  spirit  might  have  spread,  Edward  feared 
to  proceed  to  extremities,  aggravated  and  annoying  as  this  disobedience 
was,  but  contented  himself  with  appointing  Geoffrey  de  Geyneville  and 
Thomas  de  Berkeley  to  act  for  the  recusant  officers  on  the  present  occa- 
sion; for  as  the  offices  of  marshal  and  constable  were  hereditary,  he 
could  onlv  have  deprived  the  offenders  of  them  by  the  extreme  measure 
of  attainder.  He  farther  followed  up  this  conciliatory  policy  by  taking 
the  primate  into  favour  again,  in  hope  of  thus  securing  the  interest  of  the 
church ;  and  he  assembled  a  great  meeting  of  the  nobles  in  Westminster 
Hall,  to  whom  he  addressed  a  speech  in  apology  for  what  they  might 
deem  exceptionable  in  his  conduct.  He  pointed  out  how  strongly  the 
honour  of  the  crown  and  the  nation  demanded  the  warlike  measures  he 
proposed  to  take,  and  how  impossible  it  was  to  take  those  measures  with- 
out money ;  he  at  the  same  time  protested,  that  should  he  ever  return  he 
would  take  care  that  every  man  should  be  reimbursed,  and  that  wherever 
there  was  a  wrong  in  his  kingdom  that  wrong  should  be  redressed.  At 
ilii;  same  time  that  he  made  these  promises  and  assured  his  bearers  that 
iliey  might  rely  upon  his  fulfilment  of  them,  he  strongly  urged  them  to 
lay  aside  all  animosities  amon^  themselves,,  and  only  strive  with  each 
other  who  should  do  most  towards  preserving  the  peace  and  upholding 
the  credit  of  the  nation,  to  be  faithful  to  him  during  his  absence,  and,  in 
the  event  of  his  falling  in  battle,  to  be  faithful  to  his  son. 

Though  there  was  something  extremely  touching  in  the  politic  pleading 
of  the  king,  coming  as  it  did  from  a  man  usually  so  fierce  and  resolute, 
his  arbitrary  conduct  had  injured  too  widely,  and  stung  too  deeply,  to 
idmit  of  words,  however  pathetic,  winning  him  back  the  friendship  of  his 
people;  and  just  as  he  was  embarking  at  Winchelsea,  a  remonstrance 
which  Hereford  and  Norfolk  had  framed  was  presented  to  him  in  their 
names  and  in  those  of  other  considerable  barons.  In  this  remonstrance, 
strongly  though  courteously  worded,  complaint  was  generally  made  of 
his  recent  system  of  government,  and  especially  of  his  perpetual  and 
diigrant  violation  of  the  great  charter  and  of  the  charter  of  the  forests, 
and  his  arbitrary  taxation  and  seizuied,  and  they  demanded  redress  of 


888 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


j^-- 


these  great  and  manirest  grievances.  The  circumstances  under  which 
this  memorial  was  delivered  to  the  king  furnished  him  with  an  excuse  of 
which  he  was  by  no  means  sorry  to  avail  himself,  seeing  that  he  could 
neither  deny  the  grievances  nor  find  the  means  of  redressing  them ;  and 
he  briefly  replied,  that  he  could  not  decide  upon  matters  of  such  high  im- 

Eortance  while  at  a  distance  from  his  council  and  in  all  the  bustle  of  em 
arkation. 

But  the  two  earls  and  their  partizans  were  resolved  that  the  king's  em 
barkation  should  rather  serve  than  injure  their  cause ;  and  when  the  prince 
of  Wales  and  the  government  summoned  them  to  meet  in  parliament  they 
did  so  with  a  perfect  army  of  attendants,  horse  and  foot,  and  would  not 
even  enter  the  city  until  the  guardianship  of  the  gates  was  given  up  to 
them.  The  council  hesitated  to  trust  so  much  to  men  who  had  assumed 
so  hostile  an  attitude ;  but  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  sided  with 
the  earls,  overruled  all  objections  and  argued  away  all  doubts :  the  gates 
were  given  into  the  custody  of  the  malcontents,  and  thus  both  the  prince 
and  the  parliament  were  virtually  put  into  their  power. 

That  power,  however,  they  used  with  an  honourable  moderation,  de- 
manding only  that  the  two  charters  should  be  solemnly  confirmed  by  the 
king  and  duly  observed  for  the  time  to  come ;  that  a  clause  should  be 
added  to  the  great  charter,  securing  the  people  from  being  taxed  without 
the  consent  of  parliament ;  and  that  they  who  had  refused  to  attend  the 
king  to  Flanders  should  be  held  harmless  on  that  account  and  received 
into  the  king's  favour.  Both  the  prince  of  Wales  and  his  council  agreed 
to  these  really  just  and  moderate  terms ;  but  when  they  were  submitted 
to  Edward,  in  Flanders,  he  at  first  objected  to  agree  to  them,  and  even 
after  three  days'  deliberation  he  was  only  with  difficulty  persuaded  to 
do  so. 

The  various  impediments  which  the  king  had  met  with  in  England 
caused  him  to  reach  Flanders  too  late  in  the  season  for  any  operations  nf 
importance ;  and  enabled  Philip  to  eater  the  Low  Countries  before  his 
arrival,  and  make  himself  master,  in  succession,  of  Lisle,  St.  Omers. 
Courtrai,  and  Ypres.  The  appearance  of  Edward  with  an  English  army 
of  fifty  thousand  men  put  an  end  to  this  march  of  prosperity ;  and  Philip 
not  only  was  compelled  to  retreat  on  France,  but  had  every  reason  to  fear 
that  he  should  be  early  invaded  there.  Edward,  however,  besides  being 
anxious  for  England,  exposed  as  it  was  to  the  hostilities  of  the  Scots,  was 
disappointed  of  a  considerable  force  for  the  aid  of  which  he  had  paid  a 
high  price  to  Adolph,  king  of  the  Romans ;  and  both  monarchs  being 
thus  disposed  to  at  least  temporary  peace,  they  agreed  to  a  truce  of  two 
years,  and  to  submit  their  quarrel  to  the  judgment  of  the  pope. 

A.  D.  1298. — Though  both  Edward  and  Philip  expressly  maintained 
that  they  referred  their  quarrel  to  (he  pope,  not  as  admitting  the  papal 
right  to  interfere  in  the  temporal  affairs  of  nations,  but  as  respecting  his 
personal  wisdom  and  justice,  he  was  too  anxious  to  be  seen  by  the  world 
m  the  character  of  mediator  between  two  such  powerful  princes,  to  make 
any  exception  to  the  terms  upon  which  his  mediation  was  accepted.  He 
examined  their  differences,  and  proposed  that  a  permanent  peace  should 
be  made  by  them  on  the  foUowmg  terms,  viz. :  that  Edward,  who  was 
now  a  widower,  shouiii  espouse  Margaret,  sister  of  Philip,  and  that  the 
prince  of  Wales  should  espouse  Isabella,  daughter  of  Philip,  and  that 
Guienne  should  be  restored  to  England.  Philip  wished  to  include  the 
Scots  in  his  peace  with  Edward,  but  the  latter  was  too  inveterate  against 
Scotland  to  listen  to  that  proposal,  and  after  some  discussion  the  peace 
was  made — Philip  abandoning  the  Scots,  and  Edward  in  turn  abandoning 
the  Flemings.  So  careless  of  their  allies  are  even  the  greatest  monarchs 
when  their  )wn  interests  call  for  the  sacrifice  of  those  allies! 

It  is  but  seldom  that  projects  of  conquest  will  bear  scrutiny ;  still  more 


THK  TBKASURV  03*  HISTORY. 


•eidom  that  they  merit  praise.  B>..'.  ainly,  looking  merely  at  the  geo- 
graphical relations  or  England  and  i>-  .iand,  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that 
the  latter  seems  intended  by  nature  tu  belong  to  the  former  whenever 
any  considerable  progress  should  be  made  in  civilization.  That  Scotland 
■hould  long  and  fiercely  struggle  for  independence  was  natural,  and  ex- 
cites our  admiration  and  sympathy ;  but,  on  turning  from  sentiment  to 
-^ason,  we  cannot  but  approve  of  the  English  determination  to  annex  as 
viends  and  fellow-subjects  a  people  so  commandingly  situated  to  be  mia- 
;hievous  and  costly  as  enemies.  It  is  probable  that  Scotland  would 
sever  have  made  a  struggle  after  the  too  prudent  submission  of  John 
Baliol,  had  the  English  rule  been  wisely  managed.  But  Karl  Warenne 
was  obliged  by  failing  health  to  retire  from  the  bleak  climate  of  Scot- 
land ;  and  Ormesby  and  Cressingham,  who  were  then  left  in  possession 
of  full  authority,  used,  or  rather  abused  it  in  such  wise  as  to  arouse  to 
hate  and  indignation  all  high-spirited  Scots,  of  whatever  rank,  and  of 
whatever  moderation  in  their  former  temper  towards  England.  Their 
shameTul  and  perpetual  oppressions,  in  fact,  excited  so  general  a  feeling 
of  hostility,  that  only  a  leader  had  been  for  some  time  wanting  to  pro- 
duce an  armed  revrlt  and  such  a  leader  at  length  appeared  in  the  per- 
son of  the  afterwarOB  iamous  William  Wallace. 

William  Wallace,  a  gentleman  of  moderate  fortune,  but  of  an  ancient 
and  honourable  family  in  the  west  of  Scotland,  though  his  efforts  on  be- 
half of  his  country  deserve  at  least  a  part  of  the  enthusiastic,  praise 
which  his  countrymen  bestow  upon  him,  would  probably  have  died  un 
known,  and  without  one  patriotic  struggle,  but  for  that  which  often  leads 
to  patriotic  efforts  -a  private  quarrel.  Having,  like  too  many  of  his  fel- 
low-countrymen, been  grossly  insulted  by  an  English  officer,  Wallace 
killed  him  on  the  spot.  Under  so  tyrannous  a  rule  as  that  of  the  English 
in  Scotland,  such  a  deed  left  the  doer  of  it  but  little  mercy  to  hope ;  and 
Wallace  betook  himself  to  the  woods,  resolved,  as  his  life  was  already 
forfeit  to  the  law,  to  sell  it  as  dearly  as  possible,  and  to  do  away  with 
whatever  obloquy  might  attach  to  his  first  act  of  violence  by  mixing  up 
for  the  future  his  own  cause  with  that  of  his  country.  Of  singular  bodily 
ai)  well  as  mental  powers,  and  having  a  perfect  acquaintance  with  every 
morass  and  mountain  path,  the  suddenness  with  which  Wallace,  with 
the  small  band  of  outlaws  he  at  first  collected  round  him,  fell  upon  the 
Knglish  oppressors,  and  the  invariable  facility  and  safety  with  which  be 
made  good  his  retreat,  soon  made  him  looked  up  to  by  men  who  longed 
for  the  deliverance  of  their  country,  and  cared  not  if  they  owed  it  even 
to  a  hand  guilty  of  deliberate  murder.  The  followers  of  Wallace  thus 
Bpeedily  became  more  and  more  numerous,  and  from  the  mere  outlaw's 
baud  grew  at  length  to  the  patriot's  army. 

Every  new  success  with  which  Wallace  struck  terror  into  the  hearts 
of  the  English  increased  the  admiration  of  his  countrymen ;  but  though 
the  number  of  his  adherents  was  perpetually  on  the  increase,  for  a  long 
time  he  was  not  joined  by  any  men  of  rank  and  consequence  sufTlcient 
to  stamp  his  exertions  with  a  national  character.  But  this  great  difficulty 
was  at  length  removed  from  his  patli.  After  a  variety  of  minor  successes 
he  prepared  his  followers  to  attack  Scone,  which  was  held  by  the  hated 
English  justiciary,  Ormesby ;  and  that  tyrannical  person  being  informed 
by  his  spies  of  the  deadly  intentions  of  Wallace  towards  him,  was  so 
alarmed,  that  he  precipitately  departed  into  England:  and  his  example 
was  closely  followed  by  all  the  immediate  accomplices  and  tools  of  his 
cruelty  and  tyranny. 

The  panic  flight  of  Ormesby  added  greatly  to  the  effect  which  the  cour- 
age and  conduct  of  Wallace  had  already  produced  upon  the  mii\d8  of  his 
fellow-countrymen  ;  and  even  the  great,  who  hitherto  had  deemed  it  pru- 
dent to  keep  aloof  from  him,  now  showed  him  both  sympathy  am  conft 
1— J9 


«».■ 


IN 


THA  TEEA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


dence.  Sir  William  Douglas  openly  joined  him,  and  Robert  Bruce  iiecretly 
encournged  him ;  the  smaller  gentry  and  the  people  at  large  gave  him 
the  full  confidence  and  support  of  which  the  efforts  he  had  already  made 
proved  him  capable  of  prontinff;  and  so  general  was  the  Scottish  move- 
ment, that  in  a  short  time  the  bnglish  government  was  virtually  at  an  end 
in  Scotland.  The  more  sanguine  among  the  Scots  already  began  to  hope 
that  tlieir  country's  independence  was  completely  re-established,  but  the 
wiser  and  more  experienced  judged  that  England  would  not  thus  easily 
part  with  a  conquest  so  desirable  and,  perhaps,  even  essential  to  her  own 
national  safety ;  and  their  judgment  was  soon  justified  by  the  appearance 
of  Earl  Warenne  at  Irvine,  in  Annandale,  with  an  sriny  of  upwards  of  forty 
thousand  men  ;  a  force  which,  if  prudently  used  under  the  existing  cir- 
cumstances, must  on  the  instant  have  undone  all  that  Wallace  had  as  ye> 
done  for  the  enfranchisement  of  his  country.  For  the  mere  appearance  of 
so%'a8t  and  well  appointed  an  army,  under  the  command  of  a  leader  of  the 
known  valour  and  ability  of  Warenne,  struck  such  terror  into  many  of  the 
Scottish  nobles  who  had  joined  Wallace,  that  they  hastened  to  submit  to 
Warenne,  and  to  save  their  persons  and  property  by  renewing  the  oath  ol 
fealty  to  Edward ;  wh  s  many  who  were  secretly  in  corresf)ondence  with 
Wallace,  and  among  lis  most  zealous  friends,  were  compelled,  though 
sorely  against  their  w  11,  to  join  the  English.  Wallace,  being  then  thus 
weakened,  a  prudent  jse  of  the  vast  English  force  was  all  that  was  re- 
quired to  have  insured  success ;  and  had  Warenne  acted  solely  upon  his 
own  judgment,  success  most  certainly  would  have  been  his.  But  Cres- 
singham,  the  treasurer,  whose  oppressions  had  only  been  second  to  those 
of  Ormesby,  was  so  transported  by  personal  rage,  and  had  so  much  influ- 
ence over  Warenne,  as  to  mislead  even  that  veteran  commander  into  an 
error  as  glaritig  as  in  its  consequence  it  was  mischievous. 

Urged  by  Cressingham,  Warenne,  who  had  advanced  to  Cambusken- 
neth,  on  the  hanks  of  the  Forth,  resolved  to  assail  Wallace,  who  had  most 
skilfully  and  strongly  posted  himself  on  the  opposite  bank.  Sir  Richard 
Lundy,  a  native  Scotchman,  but  sincerely  and  zealously  attained  to  the 
English  cause,  in  vain  pointed  out  to  Warenne  the  disadvantages  under 
which  he  was  about  to  make  the  attack.  The  order  was  given,  and  the 
English  began  their  march  over  the  bridge  which  crossed  the  river  at  that 
point.  Wallace  allowed  the  leading  divisions  to  reach  his  side  of  the  river, 
but  before  they  could  fully  form  in  order  of  battle  he  gave  the  word,  hia 
troops  rushed  upon  the  English  in  overwhelming  force,  and  in  an  incredi- 
bly short  time  the  battle  became  a  mere  rout,  the  English  flying  in  every 
direction,  and  thousands  of  them  being  put  to  the  sword  or  drowned  in 
their  vain  endeavours  to  escape  from  their  enraged  enemies.  Cressing 
ham,  who  behaved  with  much  gallantry  during  the  short  but  murderous 
conflict,  was  among  the  number  of  the  English  slain;  and  so  inveterate 
and  merciless  was  the  hatred  with  which  his  tyranny  had  inspired  the 
Scots,  that  they  actually  flayed  his  corpse  and  had  his  skin  tanned  and  con- 
verted into  girths  and  belts.  The  great  loss  sustained  by  the  English 
upon  the  field,  and  the  complete  panic  into  which  the  survivors  were 
thrown,  left  Warenne  no  alternative  but  to  retreat  into  England.  The 
castles  of  Berwick  and  Roxburgh  were  speedily  taken,  and  Scotland  was 
"lerself  free  once  more,  and  loudly  hailed  Wallace  as  her  deliverer.  The 
title  of  regent  was  bestowed  upon  him  by  acclamation ;  and  both  from 
being  elated  by  his  almost  marvellous  success,  and  from  the  absolute  fam- 
ine which  prevailed  in  Sco''^nd,  he  was  now  induced  to  carry  the  war 
into  England.  He  accordingly  mirched  his  troops  across  the  border,  and 
spreading  them  over  the  northern  ^aunties,  plundered  and  destroyed  with- 
out mercy,  till  at  length  having  penetrated  as  far  as  the  bishoprick  of  Dur- 
ham, he  obtained  enormous  booty,  witn  which  he  returned  in  triumph  to 
Scotland. 


THB  TRBASUBY  OF  HISTOaV 


391 


ressing 
urderous 
iveterate 
pi  red  the 
and  con< 
English 
jrs  were 
id.    The 
and  was 
The 
oih  from 
ute  fam- 
the  war 
der,  and 
ed  with- 
c  of  Dur- 
lutnph  to 


The  news  or  this  great  triumph  of  the  Scots  reached  Edward  while  in 
Flanders,  where,  fortunately,  he  had  just  completed  a  truce  with  France. 
He  was  thus  at  liberty  to  hasten  to  England  and  endeavour  to  •■etrieve 
the  loss  o**  his  most  valued  conquest.  Sensible  that  his  past  conduct  had 
greatly  oft  ended  as  well  as  alarmed  his  people,  of  whose  utmost  aid  anl 
zeal  he  now  stood  in  so  much  need,  his  first  care  was  to  exert  every  art 
to  regain  his  lost  popularity.  To  the  citizens  of  London  he  paid  his  court 
by  restoring  to  them  the  privelege  of  electing  their  own  magistrates,  oi 
which  his  father  had  deprived  them ;  and  he  gave  ostentatious  directions 
for  exact  inquiry  to  be  made  as  to  the  value  of  corn,  cattle,  and  other 
commodities,  which  a  short  time  before  he  had  ordered  to  be  seized ;  thus 
leading  the  more  sanguine  among  the  sufferers  to  believe,  and  persuading 
others,  that  he  intended  to  pay  for  the  goods  thus  violently  obtained.  To 
the  nobles  he  equally  endeavoured  to  recommend  himself  by  solemn  pro- 
fessions of  his  determination  to  observe  the  charters  ;  and  having  thus 
ingratiated  himself  with  all  orders  of  men,  he  made  extensive  levies  and 
preparations  for  the  re-conquest  of  Scotlaad,  against  which  he  was  soon 
enabled  to  march  with  an  army  of  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  men. 

The  magnitude  and  excellent  equipment  of  Edward's  force  were  not  his 
only  advantages ;  dissensions  were  rife  and  fierce  among  the  Scots  at  the 
very  moment  when  it  was  obvious  that  nothing  but  the  most  unanimous 
and  disinterested  zeal  could  give  them  even  a  chance  of  success.  Wal- 
lace had  done  wonders  in  raising  his  country  from  the  extreme  degrada- 
tion and  despair  in  which  he  had  found  her;  but  then  Wallace  was  only 
the  son  of  a  private  gentleman,  and  his  elevation  to  the  important  post  of 
regent  gave  deep  offence  to  the  proud  nobility,  each  of  whom  deemed  him- 
self iQore  worthy  than  the  other.  Perceiving  both  the  cause  and  the  dan- 
ger of  the  divided  spirit,  Wallace  showed  himself  truly  noble  in  soul,  by 
disinterestedly  resigning  the  authority  he  had  so  well  won,  and  retaining 
only  the  command  of  his  immediate  followers,  who  would  have  obeyed  no 
other  commander ;  and  the  chief  authority  was  divided  between  Cummin 
of  Badenoch  and  the  steward  of  Badenoch,  who  agreed  in  concentrating  all 
the  Scottish  forces  at  Falkirk,  there  to  await  the  attack  of  the  English. 
Each  of  the  Scottish  commanders-in-chief  headed  a  great  division  of  their 
army,  while  a  third  division  was  under  the  immediate  command  of  Wal- 
lace himself.  The  pikemen  formed  the  front  of  each  division,  and  the 
intervals  between  the  three  were  occupied  by  strong  bodies  of  archers ; 
and  as  the  English  had  a  vast  superiority  in  cavalry,  the  whole  front  of 
the  Scottish  position  was  protected  as  well  as  possible  by  stakes  strongly 
secured  to  each  other  by  ropes. 

Edward,  on  arriving  in  front  of  his  enemy  formed  his  army,  also,  into 
three  divisions.  His  archers,  probably  the  most  skilful  in  the  world,  com- 
menced the  attack,  and  so  galled  the  Scottish  bowmen,  that  they  were 
seized  with  a  panic  and  fled  from  the  field.  The  fearful  shower  of  the 
English  bolts  and  arrows  was  now  turned  upon  the  Scottish  pikemen,  and 
the  charge  of  the  English  pikemen  and  cavalry  followed  up  the  advantage 
thus  obtained.  The  Scots  fought  bravely  and  well,  but  the  superiority  ot 
the  English,  in  discipline  and  equipments  as  well  as  in  numbers,  was  so 
great,  that  the  utmost  efforts  of  the  Scotch  were  in  vain,  and  they  were  at 
length  routed,  with  a  loss  of  ten  thousand  men,  but  which  the  popular 
lamentation  rated  as  high  as  fifty  thousand. 

Even  in  this  appalling  scene  of  confusion  and  slaughter,  Wallace  contri- 
ved to  keep  his  division  unbroken,  and  to  lead  it  in  good  order  behind  the 
river  Carron,  lining  the  bank  of  that  river  in  such  wise  as  to  render  the 
attack  of  the  English  highly  perilous,  if  not  actually  impracticable. 

An  interview  here  took  place  between  Wallace  and  young  Bruce,  who, 
despite  his  own  high  birth  and  not  weak  claim  upon  the  Scottish  royalty 
was  then  serving  in  Edward's  army     The  account  given  by  the  Scottish 


THE  TESASURY  OF  HI8T0HY. 


historians  of  this  interview  is  so  precise  as  to  hn  somewhat  suspieioai, 
especially  as  authors  quite  as  credible  affirm  that  Bruce  was  not  then  with 
the  English  army,  or  even  in  that  part  of  the  country.  If,  however,  the 
interview  took  place,  the  subsequent  conduct  of  Bruce  shows,  that,  so  far 
from  succeeding^  in  his  endeavour  to  induce  Wallace  to  struggle  no  longei 
for  his  country's  independence,  he  was  himself  converted  by  the  great 
hero  into  a  nobler  way  of  thinking. 

A.  D.  1299. — While  Wallace  still  remained  unconquered  and  in  some 
force,  Edward  felt  that  his  triumph  was  not  complete ;  but  aAer  havmg 
subjected  the  south  of  Scotland,  Edward  was  obliged,  by  sheer  want  of 
provisions,  to  march  his  troops  back  into  England  and  to  leave  the  north 
of  Scotland  still  unconquered. 

A.  D.  1300. — The  Scotch  having  in  vain  applied  for  aid  to  Philip  ol 
France,  now  betook  themselves  to  the  mediation  of  Rome  ;  and  Boniface 
wrote  on  their  behalf  a  long  and  justly-argued  letter  to  Edward,  in  which 
he  strongly  put  forward  all  the  solid  arguments  that  existed  against  his 
equally  unjust  and  arrogant  claim  to  Scotland.  But  as  the  ambition  of 
Boniface  was  fully  equal  to  "is  ability,  he  weakened  the  justice  of  his 
opposition  to  the  arrogant  claim  of  Edward,  by  putting  forward  an  equally 
arrogant  and  unfounded  one  on  the  part  of  Rome,  to  which  he  asserted 
Scotland  to  have  by  right  appertained  from  the  most  remote  antiquity. 

The  real  claim  of  Edward  was  plainly  founded  upon  the  right  of  the 
strongest ;  his  only  justification  was  to  be  found  in  the  geographical  con- 
nection of  Scotland  and  England.  But,  in  replying  to  the  letter  of  the 
pope,  Edward  advanced  arguments  which  were  quite  as  remarkable  for 
grave  and  absurd  assurance  as  even  the  claim  of  the  pope  himself.  Com- 
mencing with  Brutus  the  Trojan,  Edward  cited  and  assumed  historioal 
sayings  and  doings  down  to  the  time  of  Henry  II.  in  support  of  his'claim ; 
but  carefully  leaving  out  everything  that  told  for  Scotland,  though  lie 
commenced  his  elaborate  document  by  a  solemn  appeal  to  the  Almighty 
to  witness  his  sincerity  and  good  faith !  It  is  still  more  extraordinary  that 
Edward's  pretensions  were  oacked  by  no  fewer  than  a  hundred  and  four 
barons,  who,  to  his  defence  of  his  claims,  added,  that  though  they  had 
condescended  to  justify  them  to  Boniface,  they  by  no  means  acknowl- 
edged his  right  to  judge,  and  that  if  their  sovereign  were  willing  to  give 
up  the  prerogatives  which  they  were  determm'^d  at  all  hazards  and  all 
sacrifices  to  uphold,  they  for  their  parts  would  in  no  wise  allow  him  to 
do  so. 

A.  D.  1303. — While  Edward  was  thus  endeavouring  to  give  to  a  politic 
and  tempting  usurpation  the  character  of  a  just  and  ancient  claim,  the 
Scots,  relieved  from  his  immediate  and  fatal  activity,  were  exerting  them 
selves  for  another  effort  in  behalf  of  their  national  independence.  John 
Cummin  was  made  regent,  and  he  did  not  content  himself  with  keeping 
a  force  together  in  the  nortli,  but  made  frequent  incursions  upon  the  sub- 
dued southern  provinces.  John  de  Segrave,  whom  Edward  had  left  as 
his  representative  in  Scotland,  at  length  led  out  his  army  to  oppose  the 
Scotch,  and  a  long  and  sanguinary  action  took  place  at  Roslin,  near  Edin- 
burgh, in  which  the  English  were  completely  defeated,  and  the  whole  of 
the  southern  provinces  freed  from  them  by  the  regent. 

Edward,  to  his  infinite  indignation,  now  perceived  that  he  had  not  to 
complete,  merely,  but  actually  recommence  the  conquest  of  this  brave  peo- 
ple, and  he  made  preparation  for  so  doing  with  his  accustomed  vigour  and 
activity.  Assembling  naval  as  well  as  military  forces,  he  entered  Scot- 
land with  a  large  army,  which  his  navy,  sailing  along  the  coast,  put  out  o( 
all  danger  as  regarded  want  of  provisions.  The  superiority  which  tliis 
arrangement  gave  to  Edward  rendered  the  resistance  of  the  Scotch  as 
hopeless  as  it  was  gallant.  Place  after  place  was  taken,  the  chieftains  in 
succession  yielded  in  despair,  and  Cummin  himself  and  his  most  zc;il< 


THB  TRBASURY  OF  HISTOIIY. 


293 


ous  iriends  at  length  submitted.  But  though  Edward  l.ad  marched  triuiu- 
phautly  from  one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other,  and  had  received  thp 
lubmission  or  the  ablest  and  the  bravest,  his  conquest  was  still  incomplete, 
for  Wallace  was  yet  at  liberty  and  was  still  undaunted. 

A.  D.  1304  5. — Edward  on  many  occasions  during  his  busy  reign  display* 
ed  great  talents,  but  his  really  clear  judgment  was  usually  vanquished  when 
It  became  opposed  by  his  love  of  arbitrary  rule.  He  had  now  donn 
enough  to  display  his  power,  and  his  truest  policy  Would  have  been  to  en- 
deavour to  reconcile  the  existing  generation  of  Scots  to  their  loss  of  real 
independence  by  flattering  them  with  as  much  as  possible  of  the  appear- 
ance of  it,  by  governing  them  by  their  own  laws,  and  by  indulging  them 
in  their  national  customs,  until,  habituated  to  rule  and  influenced  b  i  the 
propensity  of  imitation,  which  is  everywhere  so  strong,  they  i  tiould 
gradually  assimilate  themselves  in  those  respects  to  their  conquerors.  But 
this  slow  though  sure  process  did  not  accord  with  his  passionate  disposi- 
tion; and  he  not  only  made  sweeping  alterations  in  the  Scottish  laws,  but 
still  more  deeply  wounded  the  national  pride  by  the  malignant  zeal  with 
which  he  destroyed  all  their  .most  precious  records, and  most  valued  monu- 
ments. 

By  this  injudicious  cruelty  he  powerfully  excited  the  hatred  of  the  Scots, 
and  that  hatred  was  now  pushed  to  its  utmost  excess  by  what  even  an 
English  historian  can  only  term  the  murder  of  the  brave  but  unfortunate 
Wallace.  Resolved  never  to  despair  of  his  country,  nor  to  cease  bis 
exertions  for  her  but  when  he  should  cease  lo  live,  Wallace  sought  shelter 
in  the  mountain  fastnesses,  confiding  the  secret  of  his  retreat  to  only  a 
few  upon  whom  he  thought  he  could  implicitly  rely,  and  watched  eagerly 
and  hopefully  for  some  opportunity  of  again  rousing  Scotland  tu  resist- 
ance. But  the  anxiety  of  Edward  to  get  into  his  power  this  most  formi- 
dable enemy  to  hitn,  because  most  devoted  friend  to  his  native  land,  led  him 
to  hold  out  the  promise  of  such  reward  and  favour  to  whomsoever  would 
put  Wallace  into  his  power,  that  a  traitor  was  found  even  among  the  mere 
handful  of  Scots  to  whom  the  power  of  being  thus  treacherous  was  con- 
fined. The  man  to  whose  name  this  eternal  infamy  attaches  was  Sir  John 
Monteith,  an  intimate  and  confidential  friend  of  Wallace.  This  dastardly 
and  trea<*!herous  nobleman  revealed  the  place  of  the  patriotic  chieftain's 
shelter,  and  he  was  siezed,  loaded  with  irons,  and  sent  to  London.  Dis- 
linguisht^d  as  Edward  himself  was  for  courage,  the  almost  romantic  bravery 
and  devotion  of  Wallace  might  have  been  expected  to  have  excited  his 
admiration.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  read  this  portion  of  our  history 
without,  for  Edward's  own  sake,  feeling  shocked  and  disappointed  at  the 
uuknightly  want  of  generosity  he  displayed.  Had  he  kept  Wallace  even 
a  close  prisoner,  though  the  wrong  doer  would  still  have  been  exercising 
the  unjust  right  of  the  strongest,  Edward  had  been  excusable,  as  it  was 
quite  obvious  that  so  long  as  Wallace  was  at  liberty  the  conquest  of  Scot- 
land was  not  secure  for  a  single  day.  But  the  courage  and  perseverence 
which  ought  to  have  secured  Edward's  sympathy,  only  excited  his  im- 
placable hritred ;  and  the  unfortunate  Scottish  patriot,  after  the  mere  mock- 
ery of  a  trial  for  treason  and  rebellion  against  that  power  to  which  he  had 
never  made  submission,  was  publicly  beheaded  on  Towerhill. 

If  Edward  hoped  by  this  shameful  severity  to  put  an  end  to  the  Scottish 
hopes  and  determination,  he  was  signally  mistaken  ;  the  dying  resentment 
of  the  people  was  aroused  ;  even  those  who  had  been  foremost  in  eiivymg 
the  supremacy  of  Wallace  now  joined  in  deploring  his  fate,  and  the  gen- 
eral mind  was  put  into  the  most  favourable  state  for  insuring  welcome 
and  support  to  the  next  champion  of  independence,  who  soon  presented 
himself  in  the  person  of  Robert  Bruce. 

A.  D.  1306. — Robert  Bruce,  grandson  of  the  opponent  of  Baliol,  was  now, 
bv  the  decease  of  bo.h  his  grandfather  and  father,  the  inheritor  of,  at  the 


294 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


leaat,  a  plausible  claim  to  the  Scottish  crown,  and  had  therefore  a  por> 
■onal  as  well  as  a  patriotic  motive  for  apposing  the  tyranny  of  Kdward 
Though  he  was  himself  personally  well  treated,  though,  indeed,  he  was 
viewed  less  as  a  prisoner  at  lar^e  than  a  favoured  native  noble,  Bruce 
could  not  but«feel  disgust  and  indignation  at  the  numerous  cruelties  of  Kd- 
ward, crowutiJ  as  they  were  by  the  damning  injustice  of  the  murder  of 
Wallace;  anj  after  i  aving  long  pondered  the  subject,  he  determined  to 
succeed  to  thit  hero  m  his  task,  even  at  the  risk  of  succeeding  also  to  his 
violent  end.  This  determination  Bruce  confided  to  his  intimate  friend, 
John  Cummia,  who  approved  of  his  design  and  encouraged  him  in  it. 
Whether  Cummin  from  the  first  listened  only  to  betray,  or  whether  he  at 
first  entered  sincerely  into  the  views  of  Bruce,  and  only  betrayed  them 
from  horror  at  the  magnitude  of  the  danger,  does  not  clearly  appear.  But 
certain  it  is  that,  from  whatever  motives,  he  dtd  reveal  the  sentiments  and 
intentions  of  Bruce  to  the  king. 

Edward,  though  little  prone  to  sparing,  knew  how  to  dissemble  ;  and 
being  desirous  of  getting  into  his  power  the  three  brothers  of  Bruce,  who 
were  still  at  liberty  in  Scotland,  and  fearing  to  alarm  them  ere  he  could  do 
so,  should  he  take  any  decisive  measure  against  Robert,  he  for  the  pres- 
ent  contented  himself  with  putting  his  every  act  and  word  under  the  most 
severe  surveillance  of  persons  practised  in  that  most  contemptible  species 
of  employment.  This  policy,  intended  to  make  the  ruin  of  Robert  Bruce 
more  certain  and  complete,  proved  his  safety  ;  for  an  English  nobleman 
who  was  privy  to  Edward's  design  put  Bruce  on  his  guard  in  time.  The 
friendly  nobleman  in  question,  being  a  ware  how  closely  Bruce  was  watched 
could  not  venture  to  warn  him  personally  and  in  plain  terms  of  the  danger 
which  beset  him,  but  sent  him  by  a  sure  hand  a  pair  of  spurs  and  a  purse 
of  money.  The  -lagacity  of  Bruce  rightly  interpreted  the  meaning  of  this 
double  present,  ;v,id  he  instantly  set  off  for  Annandale,  and  arrived  there 
safely  ;  having  t:«Ken  the  precaution  to  have  his  horse  shod  backward,  so 
that  even  had  a  pursuit  been  commenced,  the  pursuers  would  speedily  have 
been  thrown  out 

High  as  Brucr.  ranked  in  the  Scottish  nobility,  he  had  hitherto  been 
looked  upon  as  wholly  lost  to  Scotland ;  as  the  mere  minion  of  the  En- 
glish king;  less  ak  tious  about  the  land  to  which  he  owed  his  birth  th«n  to  that 
in  which  he  livec  a  life  of  splendid  slavery.  It  was,  therefore,  with  no  lit- 
tle surprise,  and  ■  erhaps  in  some  cases  even  with  suspicion,  that  the  Scot- 
tish nobility  thei.  assembled  at  Dumfries  saw  him  suddenly  appear  before 
them,  with  the  at  owed  determination  of  following  up  the  mighty  efforts  oi 
Wallace,  and  of  k-berating  his  trampled  country  or  nobly  perishing  in  the 
attempt.  The  ei.tquence  and  spirit  with  which  Bruce  declared  his  inten- 
tions and  exhorted  the  assembled  nobles  to  join  him  in  his  efforts,  roused 
their  spirits  to  th*  highest  enthusiasm,  and  they  at  once  declared  their  in- 
tention to  follow  >he  noble  Bruce  even  to  death.  To  this  enthusiasm  and 
assent  there  was  out  one  exception  :— Cummin,  who  had  already  betrayed 
the  designs  of  Bi'jce  to  the  king,  now  endeavoured  to  introduce  discord 
Into  the  council,  .y  dwelling  with  great  earnestness  upon  the  little  proba- 
bility that  existed  )f  their  being  successful  against  the  tremendous  power 
3f  England,  and  u  »on  the  still  smaller  probability  of  Edward  showing  any 
mercy  to  them,  should  they  fall  into  his  hands  after  insulting  him  by  anew 
breach  of  their  oa*n  and  fealty. 

The  discourse  o ;  Cummin  had  the  greater  weight  because  he  was  held 
to  be  a  true  patriot  ;  and  Bruce  clearly  perceived  that  this  man,  who  had 
so  nearly  betrayed  him  to  certain  imprisonment  and  very  probable  ex- 
ecution, had  80  sti'ing  a  hold  on  the  minds  of  the  nobles,  that  they  would 
most  likely  follow  his  advice,  until  the  arrival  of  Edward  with  an  over- 
whelming power  would  render  exertion  useless.  Enraged  at  such  an  op- 
position being  add^d  to  the  treachery  of  which  he  was  aware  that  Cum 


TAS,  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


29b 


nia  had  already  been  guillv,  Bruce,  when  the  meeting  of  tlie  iiubles  wai 
adjourned  to  another  day,  followed  Cummin  as  far  as  the  monastery  of 
the  Grey  Friars,  in  the  cloister  of  which  he  went  up  to  him  and  ran  him 
through  the  body.  Bruce  imagined  that  he  had  killed  the  traitor,  but  on 
being  asked  by  a  friend  and  conlidant,  named  Filzpatrick,  whether  he  had 
dune  so,  he  replied,  "I  believe  so."  "  Believe!"  exclaimed  Fitzpatrick, 
"  and  is  that  a  thing  to  leave  to  chance  1  I  will  secure  him  V  So  saying 
the  fierce  knight  went  back  to  the  spot  where  Cummin  lay,  and  stabbed 
him  through  the  heart.  This  brutal  violence,  which  in  our  more  enlight* 
ened  day  we  cannot  even  read  of  without  horror  and  disgust,  was  then 
deemed  a  matter  not  of  shame  but  of  triumph  and  boasting,  and  the  mur- 
derer Fitzpatrick  actually  took  for  his  crest  a  hand  and  bloody  dagger, 
and  the  words  "  I  will  secure  him !"  for  his  motto. 

The  murder  of  Edward's  spy — and  murder  it  assuredly  was,  however 
base  the  character  of  the  victim — left  the  assembled  nobles,  and  Bruce  es- 
pecially, no  choice  as  to  their  future  course;  they  must  either  shake 
off  the  power  of  Edward,  or  perish  beneath  Edward's  aroused  ven- 
geance. Bruce  in  this  emergency  proved  himself  well  adapted  for  the 
lofty  and  perilous  mission  to  which  he  had  devoted  himself.  He  flew 
from  one  part  of  the  country  to  the  other,  everywhere  raising  armed  par- 
tisans, and  sending  them  against  the  most  important  towns  and  castles 
that  ventured  to  hold  out  for  Edward;  and  by  this  activity  he  not  only 
obtained  strong-holds  in  every  direction,  but  organized  and  concentrated 
a  force  so  considerable,  that  he  was  able  to  declare  Scotland  independent, 
and  to  have  himself  crowned  as  her  king  in  the  abbey  of  Scone,  the  arch- 
bishop of  St.  A.ndrew'8  ofliciating.  Bruce,  though  both  policy  and  ambi- 
tion led  him  to  be  crowned,  dial  not  suffer  mere  ceremonial  to  occupy 
much  of  the  time  for  which  he  had  so  much  more  important  a  use,  but 
busily  pursued  the  English  until  tbny  were  all  driven  from  the  kingdom, 
save  those  who  found  shelter  in  the  comparatively  few  fortresses  that 
still  held  out  for  Edward. 

A.  D.  1307. — Edward,  who  seemed  as  enthusiastic  in  his  desire  to  con- 
quer Scotland  as  the  Scots  were  in  their  desire  to  live  free  from  his  yoke, 
received  the  tidings  of  this  defeat  of  his  purpose  only  as  a  summons  to  ad- 
vance to  the  conquest  yet  once  more;  and,  while  making  iiis  own  ar- 
rangements, he  sent  forward  a  large  advance  force  under  Sir  Aylmer  de 
Valence,  who  fell  suddenly  upon  Bruce,  in  Perthshire,  and  put  him  com- 
pletely to  the  rout.  Bruce  himself,  with  a  mere  handful  of  personal 
friends,  took  shelter  in  the  western  isles ;  Sir  Simon  Fraser,  Sir  Cliris- 
topher  Seton,  and  the  earl  of  Athol  were  less  fortunate ;  being  taken  pris- 
oners, Edward  ordered  tlieir  immediate  execution,  as  rebels  and  traitors. 
Similar  severity  was  siiown  in  the  treatment  of  other  prisoners,  and  Ed- 
ward now  in  person  commenced  his  march  against  Scotland,  vowing  ven- 
geance upon  the  whole  of  the  nation  for  the  trouble  and  disappointment 
to  which  it  had  exposed  him.  But  a  mightier  than  Edward  was  now  at  hand 
to  render  farther  cruelty  or  injustice  impracticable.  He  was  already  ar- 
rived as  far  on  bis  journey  of  vengeance  as  Cumberland,  when  he  was  sud- 
denly siezed  with  illness,  and  died  on  the  7th  of  July,  1307,  in  the  thirty- 
fifth  year  of  his  reign  and  the  sixty-ninth  of  his  age. 

Warlike,  politic,  and  so  especially  attentive  to  amending  and  consolida- 
ting the  laws  of  his  country  that  the  title  of  the  English  Justiiii.'tn  was 
not  quite  unjustly  bestowed  upon  him,  Edward  yet  was  rather  a  great 
than  a  good  monarch;  better  calculated  to  excite  the  pride  of  his  subjects 
than  to  deserve  their  love.  Self-will,  a  necessary  ingredient,  pcrnaps,  to 
a  certain  extent,  of  every  great  character,  was  in  him  carried  to  :iii  excess, 
and  made  him  pass  from  a  becoming  pride  to  arrogance,  and  from  just 
command  to  unprincipled  extortion  and  unsparing  despotism.  With  less 
of  arrogance  he  would  have  been  in  everv  wav  a  better  king ;  vet,  such  ia 


196 


TH8  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


the  temper  of  all  uncultivated  people,  the  tyrannies  or  this  splendid  and 
warlike  tyrant  were  patiently,  almost  affectionately,  borne  Dv  the  nation 
who  revolted  at  the  far  less  extensive  and  daring  tyrannies  of  John. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


THI  KEION  or  EDWARD  II. 


A.  D.  1307. — The  dying  commands  of  Edward  I.  to  his  son  and  succeb 
■or  were,  that  lie  should  follow  up  the  enterprise  against  Scotland,  and 
never  desiat  until  that  nation  should  be  completely  subdued.  An  abun- 
dantly sufficient  force  was  ready  for  the  young  king  Edward  II. ;  and  as 
Bruce  had  by  this  time  rallied  forces  round  him,  and  inflicted  a  rather 
important  defeat  upon  Sir  Aylmerde  Valence,  the  English  people,  too  fond 
of  glory  to  pay  any  scrupulous  attention  to  the  justice  of  the  cause  in 
which  it  was  to  be  acquired,  hoped  to  see  Edward  II.,  at  the  very  com* 
mencemeiit  of  his  reign,  imitating  the  vigorous  conduct  of  his  martial 
father;  and  they  were  not  a  little  disgusted  when  Edward, after  marching 
some  short  distance  over  the  border,  gave  up  the  enterprise,  not  from  any 
consideration  of  its  injustice,  but  in  sheer  indolence,  and  returned  into 
England  and  disbanded  that  army  upon  the  formation  of  which  his  fathei 
had  bestowed  so  much  exertion  and  care.  Hitherto  the  character  of  thit 
prince  had  been  held  in  esteem  by  the  English  people,  who,  with  their 
accustomed  generosity,  took  the  absence  of  any  positive  vice  as  an  indi- 
cation of  virtue  and  talent,  which  only  needed  opportunity  to  manifest  them- 
selves. But  this  first  act  of  his  reign,  while  it  disgusted  the  people  in  gen- 
eral, at  the  same  time  convinced  the  turbulent  and  bold  nobles  that  they 
might  now  with  safety  put  forward  even  unjust  claims  upon  a  king  who 
bade  fair  to  sacrifice  all  other  considerations  to  a  low  and  contemptible 
love  of  his  personal  ease.  The  barons,  who  had  not  been  wholly  kept 
from  showing  their  pride  even  by  the  stern  and  determined  hand  of  Ed- 
ward I.,  were  not  likely  to  remain  quiet  under  a  weaker  rule;  and  the 
preposterous  folly  of  the  new  king  was  not  long  ere  it  furnished  them 
with  sufficiently  reasonable  cause  of  complaint. 

The  weak  intellect  of  Edward  II.  caused  him  to  lean  with  a  child-like 
dependency  upon  favourites  :  but  with  this  difference,  that  the  dependency 
which  is  touching  and  beautiful  in  a  child,  is  contemptible  in  a  man,  and 
must  to  the  rough  and  warlike  barons  have  been  especially  disgusting 
The  first  favourite  upon  whom  Edward  bestowed  his  unmeasured  confi 
dence  and  favour  was  Piers  Gaveston,  a  Gascon,  whose  father's  knightly 
service  in  the  wars  of  the  late  king  had  introduced  the  son  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  present  king  while  prince  of  Wales.  The  elegant  though 
frivolous  accomplishments  of  which  Gaveston  was  master,  and  the  pains 
which  he  took  to  display  and  employ  them  in  the  amusement  of  the  weak- 
minded  young  prince  whom  he  served,  obtained  for  Gaveston,  even  during 
the  lifetime  of  Edward  I.,  so  alarming  an  influence  over  the  mind  of  the 
heir-apparent,  that  the  stern  monarch,  who  had  little  taste  for  childish  pur- 
suits, banished  Gaveston  not  only  from  the  court,  but  from  the  realm  alto- 
gether, and  exacted  the  most  positive  promise  from  the  prince  never  on 
any  account  to  recall  him. 

His  own  interests  and  his  promise  to  his  deceased  father  were  utterly 
forgotten  by  the  young  Edward  in  his  anxiety  again  to  enjoy  the  company 
df  his  accomplished  favourite,  and  having  astounded  his  rugged  barons  by 
disbanding  his  army,  he  completed  their  wondering  indignation  by  hastily 
sending  for  Gaveston.  Before  the  favourite  could  even  reach  England 
the  young  king  conferred  upon  him  the  rich  earldom  of  Cornwall,  which 
had  lately  escheated  to  the  crown  by  the  death  of  Edmond,  son  of  the  king 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


997 


of  the  Romans.    In  thus  beittiwini;  upon  an  obtcure  favourite  the  rich 

EOMOisions  and  licije  titlo  lliut  liad  co  rncMutly  sufficed  a  prince  of  th« 
lood  roynl,  Kdwanl  had  only  cornmeiict'd  hiH  carerr  of  hberahtjr ;  wealth 
and  honours  flowed  in  upon  ilie  fortunate  young  man,  whom  Kdwald  at 
length  aiheil  to  the  throne  itself  by  giving  Uim  for  his  wife,  hia  own  neice 
the  sister  of  the  earl  of  Uloueester. 

The  folly  of  the  king  was  in  nowise  cxcunedorkept  in  the  bank  ground 
by  the  favourite.  Instead  of  endeavouring  to  disarm  the  anger  and  envy 
of  the  burons  by  at  least  an  affectation  of  humility,  Gaveston  received 
ea<;h  new  favour  as  though  it  were  merely  the  guerdon  and  the  due  of  his 
eminent  merit ;  in  equipage  he  surpasoed  the  highest  men  in  the  realm, 
and  he  took  delight  in  showing  the  wisest  and  most  powerful  that  he, 
relying  only  upon  the  king's  personal  favour,  had  in  reality  »  power  and 
influence  superior  to  all  that  could  be  won  by  wisdom  in  the  council  or 
valour  in  the  fleld.  Witty,  he  made  the  noliles  hia  butt  in  the  court  con- 
versation ;  accomplished,  he  took  every  opportunity  to  mortify  them  by 
some  dexterous  slight  in  the  tilt  yard  or  at  tn^  tourney  ;  and  the  insolence 
of  the  favourite  thus  completed  tne  hatred  which  the  folly  of  the  king  had 
first  aroused. 

Soon  after  his  accession  to  the  throne  Edward  had  to  visit  France,  in 
order  to  do  homage  to  Philip  for  Guienne,  and  also  to  espouse  that  mon- 
arch's daughter  Isabella,  to  whom  he  had  a  long  time  been  betrothed ;  and 
on  his  departure  he  gave  a  new  proof  of  his  infatuated  afleciion  for  Gav- 
eston, bv  not  only  preferring  him  to  all  the  English  nobles  for  the  honour- 
able anci  important  office  of  guardian  of  the  realm,  but  also  giving  him  in 
that  capacity  more  than  usually  extensive  powers. 

When  Edward  brought  his  young  queen  to  England  he  introduced  Gav- 
eston to  her,  and  showed  so  anxious  an  interest  in  the  favourite's  welfare, 
that  Isabella,  who  was  both  shrewd  in  observation  and  imperious  in  tem- 
per, instantly  conceived  a  mortal  hatred  for  the  man  who  evidently  pos- 
sessed so  much  power  over  a  mind  which  she  deemed  that  she  alone  had 
a  right  to  beguile  or  to  rule.  Gaveston,  though  too  quick  of  perception  to 
be  unaware  of  the  queen's  feeling,  was  not  wise  enough  to  aim  at  concili- 
ating her,  but  aggravated  her  already  deadly  emnity  by  affronts,  which 
were  doubly  injurious  as  being  offered  to  a  queen  by  the  mere  creature 
and  minion  of  her  husband;  a  prosperous  and  inflated  adventurer,  whom 
a  breath  had  made  and  whom  a  breath  could  just  as  easily  destroy. 

A.  D.  1308. — Enraged  that  such  a  person  should  both  share  her  husband's 
confidence  and  openly  deride  or  defy  her  own  influence,  Isabella  gave 
every  encouragement  to  the  nobles  whom  she  perceived  to  be  inimical 
to  Gaveston  ;  and  it  was  with  her  sanction,  if  not  actually  at  her  sugges- 
tion, that  a  confederacy  was  formed  for  the  express  purpose  of  expelling 
the  insolent  favourite  from  the  court.  At  the  head  of  this  confederacy 
was  the  king's  own  cousin,  Thomas,  earl  of  Lancaster.  First  prince  ol 
the  blood,  he  was  also  possessed  of  both  greater  wealth  and  greater  pnwei 
than  any  other  subject  in  the  realm ;  and  it  was  probably  less  from  anA 
patriotic  feeling  than  from  vexation  at  seeing  his  private  influence  witi 
the  king  surpassed  by  that  of  an  upstart  favourite,  that  he  now  so  strenu 
ously  opposed  him.  This  powerful  noble  assembled  around  him  all  those 
barons  who  were  inimical  to  Gaveston,  and  they  entered  into  an  agree- 
ment, which  they  solemnized  by  an  oath,  never  to  break  up  their  confed- 
eracy until  Gaveston  should  be  expelled  from  the  kingdom.  From  this 
under-current  of  opposition  many  open  disturbances  arose  in  the  kingdom, 
and  there  were  evident  symptoms  of  a  near  approach  to  actual  civil  war. 
At  length  a  parliament  was  summoned  to  meet  at  Westminster,  which 
Lancaster  and  his  'associates  attended  with  so  great  a  force,  that  they  wore 
able  to  dictate  their  own  terms  to  the  king.  Gaveston  was  accordingly 
tunishedf  being  at  the  same  time  sworn  never  to  return,  and  the  prelates 


V9tf 


THR  TBBABURY  Of  HISTORY. 


threut(>niiii{  liini  with  (•xcoiiimtiniciitiun  should  ho  venture  to  do  lo 
Though  Kdwanl  cuuld  nut  prevent  thii  ■cntviiro  being  uattud  u|M>n  hit 
minion,  he  contrived  to  deprive  it  ot  its  iting.  Inilead  ofiiending  Gavei. 
Ion  home  to  hiit  own  eountry,  he  conferred  upon  him  the  office  or  lord 
ieiitcnaiit  of  Irelaiid,  went  with  him  on  liia  way  thither  aa  far  aa  liriatol, 
and  made  him  u  parling  gift  of  Numo  valuable  lands. 

During  hiH  residence  in  Ireland,  GavcHton  displayed  both  courage  and 
con()lu.t  in  putting  down  rebellion,  and  probably  was  fur  happier  in  his 
post  than  while  mingling  in  the  inane  gaitics  of  the  English  court.  But 
Edward  was  absolutely  wretched  at  the  loss  of  his  favourite.  Compara- 
tive peace  was  restored  by  that  person's  absence,  but  peace  itself  to  the 
weak  king  seemed  valueless  until  Gavcston  should  roturii  to  grace  it.  In 
order  to  pave  the  way  for  the  restoration  for  which  he  was  so  anxious, 
the  kiiie  endeavoured  to  gratify  the  most  powerful  of  the  barons.  The 
office  o7  hereditary  high  steward  was  eivon  to  Lancastar,  and  gifts  and 
grants  were  profusely  lavished  upon  tlio  earls  Warenne  and  Lincoln. 
When  by  these  means  FMward  hau,  as  he  thought,  sufficiently  mollified 
Gaveston's  enemies,  he  applied  to  the  pope  for  a  dispensation  for  the 
favourite,  recalled  him  from  Ireland,  and  hastened  to  Chester  to  meet  him 
at  his  landing.  As  the  absence  of  Gavcston  had  in  a  great  measure  caused 
his  insolence  to  be  forgotten,  the  barons,  willing  to  oblige  the  king,  con 
tented  to  the  favourite's  re-establishment  at  court. 

Had  Gavcston  been  taught  by  the  past  to  enjoy  his  good  fortune  unob< 
trusively  and  inoffensively,  all  might  now  have  been  well  with  him.  But 
the  doting  folly  of  his  master  was  fully  equalled  by  his  own  incurable 
insolence  and  presumption,  and  he  had  not  long  been  restored  to  his  for- 
mer station,  ere  \m  misconduct  aroused  the  barons  to  even  more  than  their 
former  hale  and  indignation. 

At  first  they  silently  indicated  their  anger  by  refraining  from  their  atten- 
dance in  parliament ;  but  perceiving  that  no  alteration  was  made  in  the 
profusion  of  the  king  or  the  insolence  of  Gaveston,  they  attended  parlia- 
ment, indeed,  but  did  so,  in  contempt  of  an  especial  law  to  the  contrary, 
with  a  force  powerful  enough  to  enable  them  once  menu  to  dictate  to  the 
king,  to  whom,  in  the  form  of  a  petition,  they  presented  their  demand 
that  he  should  deleirale  his  authority  to  certain  barons  and  prelates,  who, 
until  the  follnwinor  Michaelmas,  should  have  power  lo  regulate  both  the 
kingdom  and  the  king's  household ;  that  the  regulations  thus  made  should 
become  perpetual  law  ;  and  that  the  barons  and  prelates  in  question  should 
further  be  empowered  to  form  associations  for  securing  the  observance  of 
those  regulations.  In  brief  terms,  this  petition  did  really  create  an  impe- 
rium  in  imperii);  and  the  degradation  of  the  royal  authority  was  not  a  jot 
the  less  complete  because  the  petitioners  professed  to  receive  the  vast 
powers  they  d  landed  solely  from  the  free  grace  of  the  king,  and  prom- 
ised that  this  tcr.icession  fihould  not  be  drawn  into  a  precedent,  and  that 
the  powers  demanded  should  determine  at  the  appointed  time. 

A.D.  1311.— Many  of  the  regulations  made  under  the  extraordinary 
powers  thus  usurped  by  the  barons  deserve  all  praise,  inasmuch  as  they 
tended  to  provide  for  the  security  of  the  people  at  arge  and  the  regular 
administration  of  justice.  But  the  main  object  of  the  barons  was  to  tW 
themselves  of  Gaveston,  who  was  accordingly  again  banished,  and  it  wa^; 
\t  the  same  time  ordained  that  should  he  ever  again  return  he  should  be 
considered  and  treated  as  a  public  enemy. 

To  all  other  alt'-rations  Edward  was  wholly  indifferent;  but  the  banish- 
ment of  Gaveston  filled  him  with  rage  and  grief.  He  therefore  retired  to 
York,  and,  gatheriiijj  T-^rce,^  about  him^  openly  invited  Gaveston  back 
from  Flanders,  wliPe  I'-s  '  larcd  that  he  bad  been  tyrnnncusly  and  ille- 
;ally  banished,  and  i-j-vi'obijshf' ^  him  in  ,  il  his  former  pomp  and  power, 
"he  insolent  and  hau^^hiy  nruuce  of  Gavcston  was  now  so  weil  known  to 


¥ 


THR  TRKASIJRY  Of  HIHTORV 


1  they 
egul-ar 
to  rii' 

)1 

it  waL 
uld  be 

1 

anisli- 
ired  to 
I  back 
id  ille- 

poweii 
own  to 

1 

(he  barons,  that  they  fult  they  must  either  wholly  rni»ii  liiin  or  urepare  to 
be  crunlied  by  him;  Lanraster  acordinglv  siiinrnoiicii  aruui.l  nun  a  for* 
iiiidiibie  coiili!d«'r«cy,  iit  the  h«H<i  of  which  were  <lu  farl  of  VVurtrv^k, 
HohuM,  earl  of  llerefonl.  and  Aymer  de  Valence,  .rl  of  Peinbrv^e. 
Robert  de  Wincholseii,  antlibiihop  of  Canterbury,  brought  tlu-  ^bole  o( 
the  cljr^y  to  the  aid  of  this  inightv  confederacy;  ai  I  so  gem't.U  vrnt  the 
Jisunst  caused  by  the  king's  absurd  and  ruinous  folly,  that  Garl  Warenne, 
so  long  faithful,  now  o[)«nly  declared  against  him. 

Lancaster  led  (he  army  of  the  confederacy  to  York,  bii  the  king 
uacuped  thence  to  Teignmouth,  whence  he  embarked  for  Scarborough 
castle.  Hero  ho  left  the  favourite,  while  he  himself  returned  to  York, 
to  endeavour  to  raise  an  army  sufflciuntly  numerous  to  admit  of  his  meet- 
ing the  barons  in  the  6el: 

In  the  mcantimo  i.  oeonwas  far  less  secure  than  Edward  had  sup- 
posed. The  oil..  .  *<«  '  orough  was  very  strong,  but  it  was  insufA- 
ciently  garriP'.ied,  a  dsuii  nore  insufficiently  provisioned  ;  and,  Pembroke 
•icing  sent  u»  \>uaU't(<'.  it,  Oa/eston  found  himself  compelled  to  capitulate 
do  did  "'>  on  ^  It  1  that  he  should  remain  in  the  custody  of  Pembroke 
during  t  v<',  months,  which  time  should  be  emploved  in  endeavours  to  bring 
about  >M  commodalion  between  the  king  and  the  barons ;  that  should 
sucit  cihiuavours  Tiil,  the  castle  should  be  restored  unimpaired  to  Gave* 
gton ;  and  that  lit  ary  Picrcy  and  the  earl  of  Pembroke  should  with  all 
their  lands  guarantee  the  duo  performance  of  these  articles. 

On  the  surrender  of  Oavcston,  the  carl  of  Pembroke  treated  his  prisoner 
with  all  civility,  and  conducted  him  to  Dedinzton  castle,  near  Uanbury, 
where,  on  pretext  of  business,  he  left  him  with  only  a  very  weak  guard- 
Scarcely  had  Pembroke  departed,  when  Guv,  earl  of  Warwick,  who  had 
from  the  first  exhibited  a  most  furious  zeal  against  Gaveston,  attacked 
the  castle,  which  was  readily  surrendered  to  him  by  the  feeble  and  proba- 
bly tutored  garrison.  Gaveston  was  now  hurried  away  to  Warwick  cas- 
tle, where  Warwick,  Hereford,  Arundel,  and  Lancaster,  after  a  very  sum- 
mary ceremony,  ordered  him  to  be  beheaded,  in  contempt  alike  of  the 
terms  granted  to  him  by  Pembroke,  and  of  the  general  laws  of  the  land. 

When  Edward  first  heard  of  the  death  of  his  favourite,  his  rage  seeme^d 
unappeasable  and  his  grief  inconsolable.  But  he  was  too  weak-minded 
to  be  dangerous  ;  and  even  while  he  was  threatening  the  utter  extermina- 
tion of  the  barons,  they  reconciled  themselves  to  him  by  the  politic  and 
empty  form  <>f  feigning  to  regret  the  deed  that  was  irrevocable,  and  prof- 
fering to  asK  upon  their  knees  pardon  for  the  offence.  The  quarrel  be- 
tween the  king  and  the  barons  was,  for  the  present  at  least,  patched  up; 
and  the  people  hoped  from  this  reunion  of  such  powerful  interests  -some 
signal  vindication  of  the  national  honour,  especially  as  regarded  Scotland, 
where  Bruce  had  for  some  time  been  both  bravely  and  successfully  exert- 
ing himself.  Of  the  hill  country  he  had  made  himself  entirely  master, 
and  thence  he  had  carried  destruct  tim  upon  the  Cummins  in  the  north 
lowlands.  Seconded  by  his  brother  Edward  Bruce  and  by  the  renowned 
Sir  James  Dougla".  Robert  was  coni  inually  achieving  some  new  conquest ; 
and  til  .  .nificence  with  which  he  bestowed  upon  the  nobility  the  spoils 
he  tooh,  greatly  tended  to  secure  him  that  confidence,  for  want  of  which 
alone  the  murdered  Wallace  had  failed  in  his  patriotic  efforts.  With  the 
exception  of  a  few  fortresses  he  had  subdued  the  whole  kingdom;  and 
Edward,  by  the  distractions  of  England,  had  been  forced  to  consent  to  a 
tru"e,  which  Bruce  wisely  employed  in  consolidating  his  power  and  in 
employing  it  to  the  reformation  of  the  numerous  abuses  which  war  and 
license  had  necessarily  introdncel. 

A.D.  1314. — The  truce,  ill  observe  1  from  the  beginning,  at  length  came 
to  an  end,  and  Edward  now  a»*embled  a  vast  army  with  the  design  of  a 
once  crushing  Brace,  and  finally  subduing  that  kingdom  which  had  given 


300 


THE  TRBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


so  mucti  trouble  to  his  politic  and  warlike  father.  Besides  assembling  aQ 
the  military  force  of  Knirlaiid,  he  called  over  some  of  his  powerful  vassals 
of  Gascony,  aiul  to  the  mighty  army  thus  formed  he  added  a  huge  disor- 
derly  force  of  Irish  and  Welsh,  eager  for  plunder  and  peculiarly  well  fitted 
for  the  irregular  warfare  of  a  muuntaui  land.  With  this  various  force, 
amounting  to  at  least  a  hundred  tiiousand  men,  he  marched  into  Scotland 

Robert  Bruce,  with  an  army  of  only  thirty  thousand  men,  awaited  the 
approach  of  his  enemies  at  Bannockburn,  near  Stirling.  On  his  right 
flank  rose  a  hill,  on  his  left  stretched  a  morass,  and  in  his  front  was  a  rivu. 
let,  along  the  bank  of  which  he  caused  sharpened  stakes  to  be  set  in  pits 
which  were  then  lightly  covered  with  turfs. 

Towards  evening  the  English  appeared  in  sight,  and  their  advanced 
guard  of  cavalry  was  fiercely  charged  by  a  similar  body  of  Scots  led  by 
Bruce  in  person.  The  fight  was  short  but  sanguinary,  and  the  Knglish 
were  put  to  flight  upon  their  main  body;  one  of  theirbravest  gentlemen, 
Henry  de  Bohun,  being  cleft  to  the  chin  by  the  battle-axe  of  Bruce. 

The  combat  proceeded  no  further  that  night,  but  very  early  on  the  fol. 
AOwing  morning  the  English  army  was  led  on  by  Edward.  The  left  wing 
of  the  cavalry  was  entrusted  to  the  command  of  the  earl  of  Gloucester, 
Edward's  nephew,  whose  youthful  ardour  led  to  a  terrible  calamity. 
Disdaining  all  caution,  he  led  on  his  force  at  full  charge,  and  rider  and 
horse  were  speedily  plunging  among  the  staked  pits  which  Bruce  had  pre- 
pared for  just  such  an  emergency.  The  young  earl  himself  was  slain  at  the 
very  outset,  the  greater  number  of  his  men  were  utterly  disordered  and 
helpless,  and  before  they  could  recover  and  form  in  a  line  of  battle,  they 
were  so  fiercely  charged  by  the  Scottish  cavalry,  under  Sir  James  Doug- 
las, that  they  were  fairly  driven  off  the  field.  As  the  hopes  of  Edward 
and  the  anxiety  of  Bruce  had  chiefly  referred  to  the  English  superiority 
in  cavalry,  this  event  had  a  proportionate  effect  upon  the  spirits  of  both 
armies ;  and  the  alarm  of  the  English  was  now  changed  into  a  perfect 

[lanic  by  the  success  of  the  following  simple  stratagem.  Just  as  the  Eng- 
ish  cavalry  were  in  full  retreat  from  the  field,  the  heights  on  the  left 
were  thronged  with  what  seemed  to  be  a  second  Scotch  army,  but  what 
really  wa.s  a  mere  mob  of  peasants  whom  Bruce  had  caused  to  appear 
there  with  music  playing  and  banners  fliying.  At  sight  of  this  new  ene- 
my— as  this  mere  rabble  was  deemed — the  English  on  the  instant  lost  all 
heart,  threw  down  their  arms,  and  betook  themselves  from  the  field  in  the 
utmost  disorder.  The  Scots  pursued  them,  and  the  road  all  the  way  to 
Berwick,  upwards  of  ninety  miles,  was  covered  with  the  dead  and  dying. 
Besides  an  immense  booty  which  was  taken  on  the  field  and  during  the 
pursuit,  the  victors  were  enriched  with  the  ransoms  of  upwards  of  four 
hundred  gentlemen  of  note,  who  were  taken,  in  addition  to  a  perfect  host 
of  meaner  prisoners,  to  all  of  whom  Bruce  behaved  with  the  humanity 
and  courtesy  of  a  true  hero. 

Determined  to  follow  up  his  success,  Robert  Bruce,  as  soon  as  he  could 
recall  his  troops  from  the  pursuit  and  slaughter,  led  them  over  the  border 
and  plundered  the  north  of  England  without  opposition ;  and  still  farther 
to  annoy  the  English  government,  he  sent  his  brother  Edward  to  Ireland 
with  four  thousand  troops. 

Lancaster  and  the  malcontent  barons  who  had  declined  to  accompany 
Edward  upon  his  Scottish  expedition,  no  sooner  beheld  him  return  beaten 
and  dejected,  than  they  took  advantage  of  his  situation  to  renew  their 
old  demand  for  the  establishment  of  their  ordinances.  The  king  was  in 
no  situation  to  resist  such  formidable  domestic  enemies ;  a  perfectly  new 
ministry  was  formed  with  Lancaster  at  its  head,  and  great  preparations 
were  made  to  resist  the  thictened  hostilities  of  the  now  once  more  inde. 
pendent  Scotland.  But  thougti  Lancaster  showed  much  apparent  zeal 
against  the  Scots,  and  was  actually  at  the  head  of  the  army  destined 


THE  TBBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


301 


iG  could 
border 
"arther 
reland 

mpany 
beaten 
w  their 
was  in 
tly  new 
irations 
re  inde. 
nt  zeal 
Icatined 


(O  oppo  e  them,  it  was  strongly  sDspected  that  he  was  secretly  favourable 
(o  them  and  actually  held  a  private  correspondence  with  Bruce,  judging 
that  while  the  i;ingdom  was  thus  threatened  fronn  without  he  could  the 
more  easily  govern  the  king. 

In  the  meantime  Edward,  truly  incapable  of  self  reliance,  had  select- 
ed a  successor  to  Gavcston  in  ilie  splendid  but  dangerous  honour  of  his 
favour  and  confidence.  This  person  was  Hugh  le  Despenser,  more  com- 
monly called  Spenser,  who  to  all  the  eloquent  accomplishments  and  per- 
sonal graces  of  Gaveston,  added  no  small  portion  of  the  presumption  and 
insolence  which  had  consigned  that  adventurer  to  an  untimely  grave 
The  elder  Spenser  was  also  very  high  in  tiie  king's  favour,  and  as  he  pes 
sessed  great  moderation  as  well  as  great  experience  and  ability,  he  might 
probably  have  saved  both  his  son  and  the  king  from  many  misfortunes, 
had  they  not  been  self-doomed  beyond  the  reach  of  advice  or  warning. 

A.  u.  1321. — Any  favourite  of  the  king  would,  ipso  facto,  have  been  dis- 
liked by  the  barons  ;  but  the  insolence  of  young  Spenser  speedily  made 
him  the  object  of  as  deadly  a  hate  as  that  which  had  ruined  Gaveston. 

To  insolence  Spenser  added  cupidity.  He  had  married  a  niece  of  tho 
King,  who  was  also  a  co-heiress  of  the  young  earl  of  Gloucester  who  fell 
at  Baiuiockburn,  and  had  thus  acquired  considerable  property  on  tho 
Welsh  borders,  which  he  was  so  anxitius  to  extend  that  he  became  iu 
volved  in  hot  dispute  with  two  neighbouring  barons,  Aubrey  and  Amnion, 
towards  whom  common  report  made  him  guilty  of  great  dishonesty  and 
oppression. 

In  the  same  neigltbourhood  he  got  into  a  still  more  serious  dispute  re- 
specting the  barony  of  Gower.  This  barony  came,  by  inheritance,  into 
liie  possession  of  John  de  Mowbray,  wh(»  imprudently  entered  upon  pos- 
session without  complying  with  the  feudal  duty  of  taking  seizin  and  livery 
from  the  crown.  Spenser  being  very  desirous  to  possess  this  property, 
persuaded  the  king  to  take  advantage  of  De  Mowbray's  merely  technical 
laches,  declare  the  barony  escheated,  and  then  bestow  it  upon  him.  This 
was  (lone,  and  the  flagrant  injustice  of  the  case  excited  such  general  and 
lively  indignation,  that  the  chief  nobility,  including  the  earls  of  Lancaster 
and  Hereford,  Audley,  Ammori,  Roger  de  Mortimer,  Roger  de  Clifford, 
and  other  barons,  flew  to  arms  and  declared  open  war  both  against  the 
favourite  and  the  king  himself. 

As  the  barons  had  long  been  nursing  a  sullen  and  deep  discontent,  they 
had  already  made  preparations;  they  accordingly  appeared  at  the  head 
of  a  powerful  force,  and  sent  a  message  to  Edward,  demanding  the  instant 
dismissal  of  Spencer,  and  threatening,  should  that  be  refused,  to  take  his 
punishment  into  their  own  hands.  Both  the  Spensers  were  absent  on  tlie 
kiuif's  business,  and  Edward  replied  to  the  message  of  his  barons,  that 
he  could  not,  without  gross  and  manifest  breacdi  of  his  coronation  oath, 
condemn  the  absent,  against  whom,  moreover,  there  was  no  formal  charge 
made. 

Tiie  barons  probably  expected  some  such  answer;  and  they  scarcely 
waited  to  receive  it  ere  they  marched  their  forces,  devastated  and  plun- 
dered the  estates  of  both  I  lie  Spensers,  and  then  proceeded  to  liondon  and 
tendered  to  the  parliament,  wliich  was  then  sitting,  a  complicated  charge 
against  both  father  and  son.  The  parliament,  without  obtaining  or  de- 
manding a  single  one  of  the  many  articles  of  this  charge,  sentenced  both 
the  Spencers  to  confis(!atioii  of  goods  and  to  perpetual  exile. 

This  done,  they  went  througli  tlie  mockery  of  soliciting  and  obtaining 
from  the  king  an  indemnity  for  their  pr  -eedings,  which  they  thus  plainly 
confessed  to  have  been  deliberately  illegal,  and  then  disbanded  their  troops 
and  retired,  in  haughty  confidence  of  security  from  any  attempt  at  ven- 
gtaiice  on  the  part  of  the  weak  king,  each  to  his  own  estate. 

So  weak  and  indolent  was  the  natur<^  of  Edward,  that  it  is  probable 


d02 


THE  THBASUEY  OF  HISTORY. 


that  he  would  have  left  the  bnrons  to  the  undisturbed  enjoyment  oi  then 
triumph,  but  for  an  insult  which  had  been  offered  to  his  queen.  Her  ma- 
jesty  being  belated  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Leeds  caatle,  was  denied  a 
night's  shelter  there  by  the  lord  Badlesmere,  to  whom  it  belonged,  and  oi- 
lier attendants  remonstrating,  a  fray  arose,  in  which  several  of  them  were 
wounded  and  two  or  three  killed. 

In  addition  to  the  fact  that  the  refusal  of  a  night's  lodging  was  chur- 
lish, and  in  the  case  of  a  lady  doubly  so,  the  queen  had  ever  conducted 
herself  so  as  to  win  the  respect  of  the  baronage,  especially  in  her  sympa- 
thy with  their  hatred  of  both  Gaveston  and  tiie  younger  Spenser;  and 
every  one,  therefore,  agreed  in  blaming  the  uncivil  conduct  of  Lord  Bad- 
esmere.  Taking  advantage  of  this  temper,  which  promised  him  an  easy 
victory,  Kdward  assembled  an  army  and  took  vengeance  on  Badlesmere 
without  any  one  interfering  to  save  the  offender. 

Thus  far  successful,  the  king  now  communicated  with  his  friends  in  all 
parts  of  the  country,  and  instead  of  disbanding  his  force  on  the  accom- 

Elishment  of  the  object  for  which  alone  he  had  ostensibly  assembled  it, 
e  issued  a  manifesto  recalling  the  two  Spensers,  and  devlaring  their  sen- 
tence unjust  and  contrary  to  the  laws  of  the  land. 

A.  i>.  1322. — This  open  declaration  he  instantly  followed  up  by  marching 
his  troops  to  the  Welsh  marches,  where  the  possessions  of  his  most  con- 
siderable enemies  were  situated.  As  his  approach  was  sudden  and  unex- 
pected he  met  with  no  resistance ;  and  several  of  the  barons  were  seized 
and  their  castles  taken  possession  of  by  the  king.  But  Lancaster,  the 
very  life  and  soul  of  the  king's  opponents,  was  still  at  liberty ;  and,  assem- 
bling an  army,  he  threw  off  the  mask  he  had  so  long  worn,  and  avowed 
his  long-suspected  connection  with  Scotland.  Being  joined  by  the  earl 
of  Hereford,  and  having  the  promise  of  a  reinforcement  from  Scotland 
under  the  command  of  Sir  James  Douglas  and  the  earl  of  Murray,  Lan- 
caster marched  against  the  king,  who  had  so  well  employed  his  time  thai 
he  was  now  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  men.  The  hos- 
tile forces  met  at  Burton  and  'I'rent,  and  Lancaster,  who  had  no  great  mil- 
itary genius,  and  who  was  even  suspected  of  being  but  indifferently  en- 
dowed with  personal  courage,  failing  in  his  attempts  at  defending  the  pas- 
sages of  the  river  retreated  northward,  in  the  hope  of  being  joined  and 
supported  by  the  promised  reinforcements  from  Scotland.  Though  hotly 
pursued  by  the  royal  forces,  he  retreated  in  safety  and  in  perfect  order  as 
far  as  Boroughbridge,  where  his  farther  progress  was  opposed  by  a  division 
of  the  royal  army,  under  Sir  Andrew  Harclay.  Lancaster  attempted  to 
cut  his  way  through  this  force,  but  was  so  stoutly  opposed  that  his  troops 
were  thrown  into  the  utmost  disorder;  the  earl  of  Hereford  was  slain,  and 
Lancaster  himself  was  taken  prisoner  and  dragged  to  the  presence  of  his 
offended  sovereign.  The  weak-minded  are  usually  vindictive ;  and  even 
had  Kdward  not  been  so,  the  temper  of  the  times  would  have  made  it 
unlikely  that  a  king  so  offended  should  show  any  mercy  But  there  was 
a  petty  malignity  in  Edward's  treatment  of  Lancaster  highly  disgraceful 
to  his  own  character.  The  recently  powerful  noble  was  mounted  upon  a 
sorry  hack,  witiiout  saddle  or  bridle,  his  head  was  covered  with  a  hood, 
and  in  this  plight  he  was  carried  to  his  own  castle  of  Pontefract  and  there 
beheaded. 

Badlesmere  and  upwards  of  twenty  more  of  the  leaders  of  this  revolt 
were  legally  tried  and  executed  ;  a  great  number  were  condemned  to  the 
minor  penalties  of  forfeiture  and  imprisonment;  and  a  still  greater  num- 
oer  were  fortunate  enough  to  make  their  escape  beyond  seas.  Sir  Andrew 
Harclay,  to  whom  the  king's  success  was  mainly  owing,  was  raised  to 
to  the  earldom  of  Carlisle,  and  received  a  goodly  share  of  the  numerous 
forfeited  estates  which  the  king  had  to  distribute  among  his  friends.  Had 
this  distribution  been  made  with  anything  like  judgment,  it  had  afforded 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


303 


(lie  king  a  splendid  opportunity  of  increasing  the  number  of  hia  friends 
and  of  quickening  and  confirining  their  zeal.  But  the  kinpf  and  his  favour- 
ite were  untaught  by  the  past ;  and  to  llie  younger  Spenser  fell  the  lion's 
share  of  these  rich  forfeitures ;  a  partiality  which  naturally  disgusted  the 
true  friends  of  the  crown. 

To  tlie  enemies  whom  Spenser's  cupidity  thus  made  even  among  his 
own  party,  other  and  scarcely  less  formidable  ones  were  added  in  the 
persons  of  the  relations  of  the  attainted  owners  of  the  property  he  thus 
grasped  at ;  and  his  insolence  of  demeanour,  which  fully  kept  pace  with 
his  increase  in  wealth,  formed  a  widely-spread,  though  as  yet  concealed, 
party  that  was  passionately  and  determinedly  bent  upon  his  destruction. 

A  fruitless  attempt  which  Edward  now  made  to  recover  his  lost  power 
in  Scotland  convinced  even  him  that,  in  the  existing  temper  of  his  people, 
success  in  that  quarter  would  be  unattainable ;  and  after  making  an  in- 
glorious retreat  he  signed  a  truce  for  thirteen  years. 

A.  D.  1324. — If  this  truce  was  seasonable  to  King  Robert  Bruce — forking 
he  was,  though  not  formally  acknowledged  as  such  by  England— it  was 
no  less  so  to  Edward ;  for,  in  addition  to  the  discontent  that  existed 
among  his  own  subjects,  he  was  just  now  engaged  in  a  dispute  of  no  small 
importance  with  the  king  of  France.  Charles  the  Fair  found  or  feigned 
some  reason  to  complain  of  the  conduct  of  Edward's  ministers  in  Guienne 
and  showed  a  determination  to  avenge  himself  by  the  confiscation  of  all 
Edward's  foreign  territory ;  and  an  embassy  sent  by  Edward,  with  his 
brother  the  earl  of  Kent  at  its  head,  had  failed  to  pacify  the  king  of 
France. 

Edward's  queen,  Isabella,  had  long  learned  to  hold  him  in  contempt, 
but  on  the  present  occasion  she  seemed  to  sympathize  with  his  vexation 
and  perplexity,  and  offered  to  go  personally  to  the  court  of  France  and 
endeavour  to  arrange  all  matters  in  dispute. 

In  this  voluntary  office  of  mediation  Isabella  made  some  progress  ;  but 
when  all  the  main  points  in  the  dispute  were  disposed  of,  Charles,  quite  in 
accordance  with  feudal  law,  demanded  that  Edward  in  person  should  ap- 
pear at  Paris  and  do  homage  for  his  French  possessions.  Had  he  alone 
been  concerned,  this  requisition  could  not  have  caused  him  an  hour's  de- 
lay or  H  minute's  perplexity ;  not  so,  bound  up  as  his  interests  were  with 
those  of  Spenser.  That  insolent  minion  well  knew  that  he  had  given  the 
deepest  offence  to  the  pride  of  Isabella;  he  well  knew  her  to  be  both 
bold  and  malignant,  and  he  feared  that  if  he  ventured  to  attend  the  king  to 
Paris,  Isabella  would  exert  her  power  there  to  his  destruction;  while  on 
\]\e  other  hand,  should  he  remain  behind  he  would  be  scarcely  able  to  de- 
fend himself  in  the  king's  absence,  while  his  influence  over  that  weak 
prince  would  most  probably  be  won  away  by  some  new  favourite.  Isabel- 
la, who  probably  penetrated  the  cause  that  delayed  her  husband's  jour- 
ney, now  proposed  liiat,  instead  of  Edward  proceeding  to  France  in  per- 
son, he  should  send  his  son,  young  Edward,  at  that  time  thirteen  years  of 
age,  to  do  homage  for  Guienne,  and  resign  that  dominion  to  him.  Both 
Spenser  and  the  king  gladly  embraced  this  expedient;  the  young  prince 
was  sent  over  to  France;  and  Isabella,  having  now  obtained  the  custody 
of  the  heir  to  the  crown,  threw  aside  all  disguise,  declaring  her  detestation 
of  Spenser  and  her  determination  to  have  him  banished  from  the  presence 
and  influence  he  had  so  perniciously  abused ;  a  declaration  which  made 
Isabella  very  popular  in  England,  where  the  hatred  to  Spenser  grew  deep- 
er and  more  virulent  every  day.  A  great  number  of  the  adherents  o(  the 
unfortunate  Lancaster,  who  had  escaped  from  England  when  their  leader 
was  defeated  and  put  to  death,  were  at  this  time  in  France ;  and  as 
they,  equally  with  the  queen,  detested  Spenser,  their  services  were  nat- 
urailj  tendered  to  her.  Foremost  among  them  was  Roger  Mortimer. 
This  young  man  had  been  a  powerful  and  wealthy  baron  in  the  Welsh 


804 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HTBTORy. 


maiches,  hut  having  been  condemned  for  high  treason,  his  life  was  apai  \i 
on  condition  of  iiis  remaining  a  prisoner  for  life  in  the  Tower  of  London. 
Aided  by  friends,  he  liad  been  f«)rtunale  enough  to  escape  to  France,  and 
having  in  the  first  instance  been  introduced  to  Isabella  only  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  pnliiical  partizan,  liis  h.indsome  person,  accomplishments,  and 
wit  soon  obtained  him  a  more  tender  and  more  criminal  favour.  Havin;j 
thus  fallen  away  from  her  duty  to  her  husband,  she  was  easily  induced  to 
include  him  in  the  enmity  she  had  hitherto  professed  to  confine  to  his 
minion.  As  Isabella  henceforth  lived  in  the  most  unconcealed  intimacy 
with  Mortimer,  and  as  their  mutual  correspondence  with  the  most  disaf- 
fected barons  in  England  was  made  known  to  the  king,  he  became  alarm- 
ed, and  sent  a  peremptoiy  message  requiring  her  not  only  to  return  to 
England,  hut  also  to  bring  the  young  prince  home  with  her.  To  this  mes- 
sage Isabella  as  peremptorily  replied,  that  neither  she  nor  her  son  would 
ever  again  set  foot  in  England  until  Spenser  should  be  definitively  re- 
moved. 

Edward's  situation  was  now  truly  terrible.  At  home  secret  conspira- 
cies were  formed  against  him  ;  abroad  a  force  was  rapidly  preparing  to 
nvade  him;  the  minion  for  whom  he  had  encountered  so  many  enmities 
;ould  do  but  little  to  aid  him  ;  and  liis  own  wife  and  child,  those  near  and 
irecious  connexions  upon  whom  he  ought  to  have  been  able  to  rely  in  the 
worst  of  circumstances,  were  at  the  very  head  of  the  array  that  threaten- 
ed his  crown,  if  not  his  person.  The  king  of  France  entered  warmly  into 
the  cause  of  the  queen  ;  and  Edward's  own  brother,  the  earl  of  Kent,  being 
induced  to  believe  that  tlie  sole  intention  of  Isabella  was  to  procure  the 
banishment  of  Spenser,  joined  the  queen  as  did  the  earls  of  Leicester  and 
Norfolk.  Nor  was  the  enmity  of  the  clerical  order  wanting  to  the  formid- 
able array  against  Kdward. 

A.  D.  132G. — Willi  all  these  elements  prepared  for  the  destruction  of 
the  unhappy  Edward,  it  was  clear  that  nothing  was  wanted  towards  the 
commencement  of  a  civil  war  but  the  appearance  of  the  queen  at  the 
head  of  an  invading  force.  Tliis  appearance  Isabella  was  very  willing  to 
make;  but  some  delay  was  caused  by  'he  decent  unwillingness  of  the 
king  of  FraiKte  to  have  an  expedition,  headed  by  the  wife  and  son,  sail 
from  any  of  his  ports  against  the  husband  and  father.  Determined  in 
her  purpose,  Isabella  removed  this  obstacle  to  its  accomplishment,  by 
betrothing  young  Edward  to  Pliilippa,  daughter  of  the  count  of  Holland 
and  Hainault.  Having  thus  allied  herself  with  this  prince,  Isabella  was 
speedily  enaiiled  to  collect  a  force  of  upwards  of  three  thousand  men ;  and 
With  this  force  she  sailed  from  Dort,  and  landed  safely  and  unopposed 
upon  the  coast  of  Suffolk.  Here  she  was  joined  by  the  earls  of  Norfolk 
and  Leicester,  and  the  bishops  of  Ely,  Hereford,  and  Lincoln,  who  brought 
to  her  aid  all  their  vassals ;  and  Robert  de  Watteville,  who  was  sent 
down  to  Suffolk  at  the  liead  of  a  force  to  oppose  her,  actually  deserted 
♦.o  her  with  the  whole  of  his  troops.  As  she  progressed  her  forces  were 
still  farther  increased,  men  of  substance,  thinking  that  they  ran  no  risk 
in  siding  with  the  heir  to  the  crown,  and  the  common  sort  being  allured 
by  the  general  professions  of  justice  and  love  of  liberty,  of  which  Isa- 
bella took  care  to  he  abundantly  liberal  in  her  proclamations. 

On  hearing  that  his  queen  had  landed  and  was  advancing  against  him 
in  force,  Edward's  first  endeavour  was  to  raise  the  Londoners  in  his  de- 
fence, rightly  judging  that  if  he  could  do  that,  he  would  still  have  a  chance 
of  obtaining  reasonable  terms.  But  his  attempt  met  with  no  success ;  his 
entreaties  and  menaces  alike  were  listened  to  in  a  sullen  silence,  and  he 
departed  to  make  a  similar  attempt  in  the  west. 

The  king's  departure  was  the  signal  for  a  general  insurrection  m  Lon- 
don. Wealth,  it  may  be  easily  supposed,  was  the  chief  a, me  against 
which  the  i;\surgent  populace  levelled  it  rage ;  the  tiext  heinous  crime 


™  taken  from  ,h. "'!?""  '"1  "'i  he?e-  hi  '"  """  ''™eed.    N^f  K 
W.  head  bei„^'2,?/k  S";  S  ""  ,'»Sy'ei  t  S  T'""'  *»^^"  h'.' 

same  t hne  \vi«  f.^       ^  °'  Leicester     %n!  ""^'^  'n  KenjJworth  nu^t\     ■ 


»-h^a-i  ir--5^it^^ 


mmmmmm 


306 


THE  TREASURY  C  F  HISTORY. 


oeeii  presented  to  that  scandalous  parliament,  the  unhappy  king  would 
still  have  been  pronounced  guilty,  for  thev  who  sat  in  judgment  upon  him 
could  only  confess  his  innocence  by  confessing  their  own  treason  and  in- 
justice. 

At  the  very  commencement  of  these  disgraceful  proceedings,  the  young 
prince  of  Wales  had  been  named  as  regent;  he  was  now  pronounced  to 
be  king  in  the  room  of  his  father,  whose  deposition  was  declared  in  the 
same  breath.  But,  as  if  to  show  more  fully  how  conscious  they  were  of 
the  injustice  and  illegality  of  their  conduct,  these  malignant  and  servile 
nobles  sent  a  deputation  to  Edward,  in  his  dungeon,  to  demand  his  resig- 
nation after  they  had  pronounced  him  justly  deposed. 

Entirely  helpless  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  whose  past  conduct  suf- 
ficiently warned  him  against  trusting  to  their  justice  or  compassion,  the 
unhappy  king  gave  the  resignation  required ;  and  Isabella,  now  wholly 
triumphant,  lived  in  the  most  open  and  shameless  adultery  with  her  ac- 
complice, Mortimer. 

The  part  which  Leicester  had  taken  in  this  most  disgusting  revolution 
had  procured  him  the  earldom  of  Lancaster;  but  not  even  this  valued 
and  coveted  title  could  reconcile  him,  conspirator  and  traitor  though  he 
was,  to  the  odious  task  of  adding  personal  ill  usage  to  the  many  miseries 
under  which  his  royal  captive  was  already  suffering.  The  honourable 
and  gentle  treatment  which  Lancaster  bestowed  upon  the  king  filled  the 
guilty  Isabella  and  her  paramour  with  fears  lest  the  earl  should  at  length 
be  moved  to  some  more  decisive  manifestation  of  his  good  feeling;  and 
the  royal  prisoner  was  now  taken  from  Kenilworth,  and  committed  to  the 
custody  of  Lord  Berkeley,  Maltravers,  and  Gournay,  each  of  whom 
guarded  him  an  alternate  month.  The  Lord  Berkeley,  like  the  earl  of 
Lancaster,  had  too  much  of  true  nobility  to  add  to  the  miseries  of  his 
his  prisoner,  but  when  he  passed  to  the  hands  of  the  other  two  state  jail- 
ers they  added  personal  ill-treatment  to  his  other  woes.  Everything  that 
could  irritate  first  and  then  finally  prostrate  the  spirit  of  the  unhappy 
king  was  put  in  practice ;  and  when  at  length  they  despaired  of  breaking 
down  his  constitution  with  sufficient  rapidity  by  these  indirect  means, 
they  broke  through  all  restraint  and  put  him  to  death.  We  shall  not  de- 
scribe with  the  minuteness  of  some  of  our  historians  the  barbarous  and 
disgusting  process  by  which  the  ruffian  keepers  perpetrated  their  diabol- 
ical act.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  a  red-hot  iron  had  been  forcibly  introduced 
into  the  bowels  of  the  unhappy  sufferer ;  and  though  the  body  exhibited 
no  outward  marks  of  violence,  the  horrid  deed  was  discovered  to  all  the 
guards  and  attendants  by  the  screams  with  which  the  agonized  king  filled 
the  castle. 

It  is  as  well  to  state  here  what  became  of  these  most  detestable  and 
ferocious  wretches.  The  public  indignation  was  so  strong  against  them, 
that,  even  before  the  impudent  guilt  of  Isabella  caused  her  downfall,  their 
lives  were  in  danger,  and  when  that  event  at  length  took  place  they  were 
obliged  to  fly  the  country.  Gournay  was  seized  at  Guienne  and  sent  to 
England,  but  was  beheaded  on  the  way,  probably  at  the  suggestion  of 
some  of  the  instigators  of  his  ruffianly  crime,  who  feared  lest  he  shodd 
divulge  their  concern  in  it.  Maltravers  lived  for  some  years  on  the  con- 
tinent, and  at  length,  on  the  strength  of  some  services  to  his  victim's  son 
and  succsssor,  ventured  to  approach  him  and  sue  for  pardon,  which,  to 
the  eternal  disgrace  of  Edward  III.,  was  granted. 


THK  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


307 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE    REIGN    OF    EDWARD    III. 

A.  D.  1327. — When  Isabella  and  her  paramour  had  consummated  theit 
aideous  guilt  by  the  murder  of  the  unoffuiiditig  Kdward  II.,  the  earl  of 
Lancaster  was  appointed  guardian  of  the  person  of  the  young  king,  and 
the  general  government  of  the  kingdom  was  committed  to  a  council  of 
regency,  consisting  of  the  primate  and  the  archbishop  of  York,  the 
bishops  of  Worcester,  Winchester,  and  Hereford,  the  earls  of  Norfolk, 
Kent,  and  Surrey,  and  the  lords  Wake,  Ingham,  Piercy,  and  Ross. 

Tlie  first  care  of  the  dominant  party  was  to  procure  a  formal  parlia- 
mentary'indemnity  for  their  violent  proceedings ;  their  next,  to  remove 
all  stigma  from  the  leaders  and  head  of  the  Lancastrian  party,  and  to 
heap  all  possible  odium  and  disqualification  upon  the  adherents  of  the 
Spensers. 

Disgusted  as  the  people  were  by  the  gross  misconduct  of  Isabella,  her 
power  was  as  yet  too  formidable  to  be  opposed,  and  the  first  disturbance 
of  the  young  king's  reign  came  from  the  Scots.  Though  Robert  Bruce, 
by  his  advanced  age  and  feeble  health,  was  no  longer  able  to  take  an  ac- 
tive personal  part  in  the  field,  as  had  been  his  wont,  his  brave  and  saga- 
cious spirit  still  animated  and  instructed  the  councils  of  his  people. 
Feeling  certain  that  England  would  never  give  him  peace  should  its  do- 
mestic affairs  be  so  completely  and  calmly  settled  as  to  enable  it  advan- 
tageously to  make  war  upon  him,  he  resolved  to  anticipate  its  hostility 
while  it  was  lab<}uring  under  the  disadvantages  which  are  ever  insep- 
arable from  the  minority  Of  a  king  and  the  plurality  of  the  regency.  Hav- 
ing made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  upon  Durham  castle,  he  gave  the  com- 
mand of  twenty-five  thousand  men  to  Lord  Douglas  and  the  earl  of  Mur- 
ray, with  orders  to  cross  the  border  and  devastate  as  well  as  plunder  the 
northern  English  counties.  The  English  regency,  sincerely  desirous  of 
avoiding  war,  at  least  for  that  time,  with  so  difficult  and  obstinate  an 
enemy  as  Scotland,  made  some  attempts  at  maintaining  peace,  but,  find- 
ing those  attempts  unsuccessful,  assembled  an  army  of  sixty  thousand 
men,  exclusive  of  a  strong  body  of  highly-disciplined  foreign  cavalry 
under  John  de  Hainault ;  and  the  young  prince  himself  led  this  formida- 
ble force  to  Durham  in  search  of  the  invaders.  But  the  difficulty  of  find- 
ing so  active  and  desultory  an  enemy  was  only  inferior  to  that  of  con- 
quering him  when  found.  Lightly  armed,  mounted  on  small,  swift  horses, 
so  hardy  that  every  common  supplied  them  with  abundant  food,  and  easily 
subsisted  themselves,  these  northern  soldiers  passed  with  incredible  celer- 
ity from  place  to  place,  plundering,  destroying,  and  disappearing  with  un- 
paralleled rapidity,  and  suddenly  reappearing  in  some  direction  quite  dif- 
ferent to  that  in  which  they  had  been  seen  to  take  their  departure. 

On  no  occasion  was  their  desultory  activity  more  remarkable  or  more 
annoying  than  on  present.  Edward  followed  them  from  place  to  place, 
now  harrassing  his  troops  with  a  forced  march  by  difficult  roads  to  the 
north,  and  now  still  more  dispiriting  them  by  leading  them  to  retrace  their 
steps  again  ;  but  though  h°  everywhere  found  that  the  Scots  had  been  in 
the  places  where  lie  sought  them,  and  had  left  fearful  marks  of  their  tem- 
porary stay,  he  everywhere  found  that  they  had  made  good  their  retreat ; 
ahd  to  this  harrassing  and  annoying  waste  of  activity  he  was  for  some 
time  exposed,  in  spite  of  his  having  offered  the  then  very  splendid  reward 
of  a  hundred  pounds  per  annum  for  life  to  any  one  who  would  give  him 
such  information  as  would  enable  him  to  come  up '  with  the  enemy.  At 
iength  he  received  information  of  the  exact  locality  of  the  enemy,  and  was 
enabled  to  come  up  with  them,  or  rather  to  be  tantalized  with  the  sight  of 


808 


THE  TaBASUUY  OF  HISTUAY. 


them  ;  for  they  had  taken  up  so  strong  a  position  on  the  southern  bank  ol 
the  river  Wear,  that  even  Kdwiud,  young  as  he  was  and  burning  for  the 
combat,  was  obliged  to  confess  that  it  would  be  a  wanton  exposure  of  his 
orave  troops  to  certain  destruction  were  he  to  attempt  to  cross  the  river 
while  tliefoe  maintained  so  admirably  chosen  a  position.  Naturally  brave, 
Edward  was  doubly  annoyed  at  this  new  difiicully  on  account  of  his  pre- 
vious vain  reseatches ;  and  in  the  excess  of  his  entimsiasm  he  sent  a  for- 
mal challenge  to  tlie  ijcots,  to  abandon  their  extraneous  advantages,  and 
meet  his  army,  man  to  man  and  foot  to  foot,  in  the  open  field.  The  gen- 
erous  absurdities  of  chivalry  rendered  this  challenge  less  irregular  and 
laughable  than  it  would  now  be ;  and  Lord  Douglas,  himself  of  a  most  fiery 
And  chivalric  spirit,  would  fain  have  taken  Edward  at  his  word,  but 
he  was  restrained  by  the  graver  though  not  less  courageous  earl  of  Mur- 
ray, who  drily  assured  Edward  that  he  was  the  very  last  person  from 
whom  the  Scots  would  like  to  take  advice  as  to  their  operations. 

The  Scots  and  Edward  maintained  their  respective  positions  for  several 
Jays ;  and  when  the  former  at  length  moved  higher  up  the  river,  they  did  so 
by  so  unexpected  and  rapid  a  movement,  that  they  were  again  securely  post- 
sd  before  Edward  had  any  chance  of  attacking  them.  The  high  courage 
of  the  youthful  monarch  led  him  to  desire  to  attack  the  enemy,  no  matter 
at  what  risk  or  disadvantage  ;  but  as  often  as  he  proposed  to  do  so  he  wag 
overruled  by  Mortimer,  who  assumed  an  almost  despotic  authority  over 
him.  While  both  armies  thus  lay  in  grim  and  watchful,  though  inactive 
hostility,  an  affair  took  place  which  had  well  nigh  changed  the  fortunes  of 
of  England.  Lord  Douglas,  audacious  and  enterprising,  had  not  merely 
continued  to  take  an  accurate  survey  of  every  portion  of  Edward's  en- 
campment,  but  also  to  obtain  the  password  and  countersign ;  and  in  tht 
dead  of  night  he  suddenly  led  two  hundred  of  his  most  resolute  followers 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  English  camp.  His  intention  was  either  to  cap 
ture  or  slay  the  king,  and  he  advanced  immediately  to  the  royal  tent.  Ed- 
ward's chamberlain  and  his  chaplain  gallantly  devoted  themselves  to  the 
safety  of  their  royal  master,  who  after  fighting  hand  to  hand  with  his  as- 
sailants, succeeded  in  escaping.  The  chamberlain  and  the  chaplain  were 
both  unfortunately  killed  ;  but  the  stout  resistance  they  made  not  only  ena- 
bled Edward  to  escape,  but  also  aroused  so  general  an  alarm,  that  Lord 
Douglas,  baulked  in  his  main  design,  was  happy  to  be  able  to  fight  his  way 
back  to  ins  own  camp,  in  doing  which  he  lost  nearly  the  whole  of  his  de- 
termined little  band.  The  Scots  now  hastily  broke  up  their  camp  and 
retreated  in  good  order  to  their  own  country  ;  and  when  Edward,  no  lon- 
ger to  be  restrained  by  Mortimer,  readied  the  spot  which  the  Scots  liiid 
occupied,  he  found  no  human  being  there  save  six  English  prisoners, 
whose  legs  the  Scots  had  broken  to  prevent  them  from  carrying  any  in- 
telligence  to  the  English  camp.  Though  the  high  spirit  and  warlike  tem- 
per which  Edward  had  displayed  during  this  brief  and  bootless  campaign 
made  him  very  popular,  the  public  mind  was  justly  very  dissatisfied  with 
the  absolute  nullity  of  result  from  so  extensive  and  costly  an  expedition ; 
and  Mortimer,  to  whom  all  the  errors  committed  were  naturally  attribu- 
ted, became  daily  more  and  more  disliked.  So  puffed  up  and  insolent  was 
he  rendered  by  his  disgraceful  connection  with  Isabella,  that  his  general 
want  of  popularity  seemed  to  give  him  neither  annoyance  nor  alurm.  Yel 
was  there  a  circuiislance  in  his  position  which  a  wise  man  would  have 
striven  to  alter.  'J'hough  he  had  usurped  an  even  more  than  royal  power, and 
settled  the  most  important  public  affairs  witiiout  deigning  to  consult  either 
the  young  king  or  any  of  the  blood  royal ;  though  he  by  his  mere  word  had 
gone  80  fur  as  to  settle  upon  the  adulterous  Isabella  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  royal  revemie  ;  yet  in  forming  the  council  of  the  regenny  lie  had  re- 
lied so  inu';h  on  his  power  that  he  reserved  no  office  or  seat  therein  for 
bimeclf.     Tliis  was  a  grave  cnov.    He  must  have  been  ill  judging  indeed 


THE  TRKASfJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


if  he  imag/nnd  that  thn  mero  absence  or  luiniiniil  power  would  procure  a 
charHCter  for  moderation  for  a  man  whose  authority  actually  8U,)erBede4 
that  of  the  whole  council. 

A.  0.  1328. — To  all  the  other  offences  committed  by  Mortimer  he  now 
added  the  very  serious  one  of  wounding  the  pride  of  the  nation.  War 
upon  Scotland,  and  the  most  strenuous  attempts  to  reduce  that  nation 
once  more  to  the  condition  of  a  conquered  province,  were  universally 
popular  objects  in  England.  But  Mortimer,  aware  that  he  was  daily  be- 
coming more  and  more  hated,  concluded  a  peace  with  Robert  Bruce,  fear> 
ing  that  the  continuance  of  a  foreign  war  would  put  it  out  of  his  power 
to  keep  his  domestic  enemies  in  check.  He  stipulated  that  David,  son 
ind  heir  of  Robert  Bruce,  should  marry  the  princess  Jane,  sister  of  the 
young  king  Edward  ;  that  England  should  give  up  all  claim  to  the  hom- 
age of  Scotland,  and  recognise  that  country  as  being  wholly  independent, 
and  that,  in  return,  Robert  Bruce  should  pay  30,000  marks,  by  way  of  ex- 
penses. 

This  treaty  was  excessively  unpopular ;  and  Mortimer,  conscious  of  this, 
now  began  to  fear  that  the  close  friendship  and  unanimity  that  existed 
among  the  three  royal  princes,  Kent,  Norfolk,  and  Lancaster,  boded  him  no 
good.  He  accordingly,  when  summoning  them  to  attend  parliament,  took 
upon  himself  to  forbid  them,  in  the  king's  name,  fiom  being  attended  by  an 
armed  force.  Whatever  had  been  their  previous  intentions,  the  three 
princes  paid  implicit  obedience  to  this  order  ;  but,  to  their  astonishment, 
they,  on  reaching  Salisbury,  where  the  parliament  was  to  meet,  found  that 
Mortimer  and  his  friends  were  attended  by  an  armed  force.  Naturally 
alarmed  at  this,  the  earls  retreated  and  raised  a  force  strong  enough  to 
chase  Mortimer  from  the  kingdom.  They  advanced  for  the  purpose  of 
doing  so,  but  unfortunately  the  earls  who  had  hitherto  been  so  closely 
united  now  quarrelled,  Kent  and  Norfolk  declined  to  follow  up  the  enter- 
prise, and  Lancaster,  too  weak  to  carry  it  out  by  himself,  was  compelled 
to  make  his  submission  to  the  insolent  Mortimer. 

A.  D.  1329. — But  though,  at  the  intercession  of  the  prelates,  Mortimer 
consented  to  overlook  the  past,  and  bore  himself  towards  the  princes  as 
though  the  whole  quarrel  were  forgotten  as  well  as  forgiven,  he  deter- 
mined to  make  a  victim  of  one  of  them,  in  order  to  strike  terror  into  the 
survivors.  Accordingly,  his  emmissaries  were  instructed  to  deceive  the 
earl  of  Kent  icto  the  belief  that  King  Edward  H.  had  not  been  put  to  death, 
but  was  still  secretly  imprisoned.  The  earl,  who  had  suffered  much  from 
remorseful  remembrance  of  the  part  he  had  taken  against  his  unhappy 
brother,  eagerly  fell  into  the  snare,  and  entered  into  an  undertaking  for 
setting  the  imprisoned  king  at  liberty,  and  replacing  him  upon  the  throne. 
The  deception  was  kept  up  until  the  earl  had  committed  himself  sufficient- 
ly for  the  purpose  of  his  ruthless  enemy,  when  he  was  seized,  accused 
b'^fore  parliament,  and  condemned  to  death  and  forfeiture ;  while  Morti- 
mer and  the  execrable  Isabella  hastened  his  execution,  so  that  the  young 
Edward  had  no  opportunity  to  interpose. 

A.  D.  1330. — Tht>ugh  tlie  corrupt  and  debased  parliament  so  readily  lent 
itselfto  the  designs  of  Mortimer,  the  feeling  of  the  commonality  was  very 
different  indeed,  and  it  was  quite  evening  before  any  one  could  be  found 
to  behead  the  betrayed  and  unfortunate  prince,  who  during  the  day  which 
intervened  between  his  sentence  and  execution  must  have  been  tortured 
indeed  with  thoughts  of  the  unholy  zeal  with  which  he  had  served  the  royal 
adulteress,  to  whose  rage,  as  much  as  to  that  of  her  paramour,  he  was 
now  sacrificed. 

Perceiving  that  the  sympathy  of  the  people  was  less  courageous  than 
deep  and  tender,  Mortimer  now  threw  Lancaster  and  numerous  other 
nobles  in  prison,  on  the  charge  of  having  been  concerned  in  the  conspi^ 
racy  of  Kent.     Any  evidence,  however  slight,  sufficed  to  insure  convie- 


310 


THE  TUEASUaV  OP  HISTOHY- 


tion;  and  as  rorfoiture  was  invariably  a  part  of  the  sentence,  Mortimer  had 
abundant  means  ot  enriching  himsufr  and  Iuh  adherents ;  and  how  little 
scruple  he  made  about  availing  hinisclf  or  this  opportunity  may  be  Judged 
from  the  fact,  that  the  whole  or  the  large  poBsessions  of  the  earl  or  Kent 
were  seized  for  Geoffrey,  younger  son  of  Mortimer ;  though  ihiH  latter  per- 
son was  himself  already  in  posHussion  of  the  greater  portion  of  the  vast 
wealth  of  the  two  Spensers  and  their  adherents.  Phe  cupidity  and  in- 
solence of  Mortimer  at  length  produced  their  natural  consequence ;  a  de- 
testation so  general  and  so  fierce,  that  nothing  was  wanting  to  his  des* 
truction  but  for  some  one  to  be  bold  enough  to  make  the  first  attack  upon 
him  ;  and  fortunately,  that  person  was  found  in  the  young  king  himself. 
Most  fortunate  it  assuredly  was  that  Mortimer,  in  his  insolence  and  pride 
of  place,  had  overlooked  the  necessity  of  so  treating  the  king  while  yet  • 
minor,  as  to  secure  his  favour  and  support  when  he  should  at  length  altaio 
his  majority. 

Edward  was  of  far  too  high  and  generous  a  nature  to  have  been  other- 
wise than  deeply  stung  by  the  petty  insults  and  galling  restraints  imposed 
upon  him  by  Mortimer ;  and  now  that  he  was  in  his  eighteenth  year  he 
determined,  at  the  least,  to  make  an  effort  at  obtaining  the  independence 
for  which  he  had  so  long  sighed  ;  he  therefore  communicated  his  wishes 
to  the  Lord  Montacute,  w'lo  engaged  his  friends  the  Lords  Clifford  and 
Molina,  Sir  John  Nevil,  Sir  Edward  Bohun,  and  others,  to  join  him  in  a 
bold  attempt  at  delivering  both  king  and  people  from  the  tyranny  of  Mor- 
timer. 

Queen  Isabella  and  her  paramour  Mortimer  at  this  time  resided  in  Not- 
tingham Ciistle ;  and  so  jealously  did  they  guard  themselves,  that  even  the 
king  was  only  allowed  to  have  a  few  attendants  with  )iim  when  he  lodged 
there,  and  the  keys  of  the  outward  gates  were  delivered  to  the  queen  her- 
self every  evening.  Lord  Montacute,  however,  armed  with  the  king's 
authority,  had  no  difficulty  in  procuring  the  concurrence  of  Sir  William 
Eland,  the  governor,  who  let  tne  king's  party  enter  by  a  subterraneous 
passage  which  had  long  lain  forgotten  and  choked  up  with  rubbish.  So 
quietly  was  everything  done,  that  the  armed  men  reached  the  queen's 
apartment  and  seized  upon  Mortimer  before  he  could  prepare  to  make 
resistance.  Isabella  implored  them  to  "spare  her  gentle  Mortimer;"  b'tr, 
the  paramour'.^  doom  was  sealed  beyond  the  power  of  her  entreaties  to 
alter  it.  A  parliament  was  immediately  summoned,  and  was  found  as 
supple  and  facile  an  instrument  for  his  ruin  as  it  had  been  for  doing  his 
pleasure.  He  was  accused  of  having  usurped  regal  power,  of  having  pro- 
cured the  death  of  King  Edward  II.,  of  having  dissipated  the  royal  trea- 
sure, and  of  having  obtained  exorbitant  grants,  of  secreting  two-thirds  of 
the  30,000  marks  paid  by  Scotland,  and  a  variety  of  similar  misdemean- 
ours. The  thoroughly  servile  parliament  in  its  eagerness  to  condemn 
could  not  legally  convict  even  this  most  outrageous  criminal.  Evidence 
was  not  called  to  a  single  point,  though  every  point  might  have  been 
proved  by  a  perfect  cloud  of  witnesses;  but  this  parliament  convicted 
Mortimer  and  sentenced  hira  to  the  gibbet  and  forfeiture,  not  upon  test!- 
niony,  but  upon  what  they  called  the  notoriety  of  the  facts  !  A  loose  sys- 
tem of  condemning  men,  which  none  but  tyrants  or  their  tools  would  ever 
tolerate,  even  could  no  other  evidence  be  found.  Though  at  the  period  of 
the  conviction  of  Mortimer  men  were  too  much  irritated  against  him  to 
look  to  strict  justice,  scarcely  twenty  years  had  passed  ere  his  illegally 
attainted  rank  was  restored  to  his  son,  upon  the  right  and  honourable  prin- 
ciple that,  however  detestable  and  however  morally  undeniable  the  guilt 
of  the  elder  Mortimer,  his  conviction  had  been  the  result  not  of  evidence, 
but  of  mere  rumour  and  assumption.  Simon  de  Beresford  and  some  others 
of  the  mere  satellites  of  Mortimer  were  executed,  and  the  vilest  criminal 
of  all,  the  adulteress  Isabella,  was  confined  lor  the  remainder  of  her  life 


THK  TIIKA8UHY  OF  UISTOUY. 


311 


to  her  castlfl  or  Ristngi.  Tho  king  allewod  her  four  hundred  a  Vfar  for 
her  support,  and  he  paid  h«'r  one  or  two  formiil  visits  every  year ,  nul  hav- 
ing'onite  (h^nrivcd  her  uf  the  influence  of  which  she  had  made  no  bad  and 
base  a  use,  he  took  euro  that  she  should  never  again  have  an  opportunity 
of  regaining  it. 

As  soon  us  Kdwiird  had  wrested  from  the  usurping  hands  of  Mortii.ici 
the  royal  power,  ho  showed  himself  well  worthy  of  it  by  the  manner  in 
which  he  used  it.  He  not  only  exhorted  his  judges  and  other  grout  offi- 
cers to  execute  justice,  and  to  put  a  stop  to  the  open  depredations  and 
armed  bands  of  robbers  by  which  tho  country  was  now  more  than  ever 
infested  and  disgraced,  but  he  personally  exerted  iiimsolf  in  that  good 
work,  and  showed  both  courage  and  conduct  in  that  important  task. 

A.  D.  1332. — Soon  after  the  completion  of  the  treaty  between  Kngland 
and  Scotland,  as  related  under  the  head  of  the  year  13'J8,  the  great  Robert 
Bruce,  worn  out  even  more  by  infirmities  ani]  toil  than  by  years,  termina- 
ted  his  life;  and  his  son  and  heir,  Uavid  Bruce,  being  as  yet  a  minor,  the 
regency  was  left  to  Randolph,  earl  of  Murray,  the  constant  sharer  of  Rob- 
ert's perils.  In  this  treaty  it  was  agreed,  that  all  Scots  who  inherited 
property  in  England,  and  all  Englishmen  who  inherited  properly  in  Scot- 
land,  should  be  restored  to  possession  as  free  and  secure  as  thouirh  no 
war  had  taken  plaee  between  the  two  countries.  This  part  of  tiie  treaty 
had  been  faithfully  performed  by  England;  but  Robert  Bruce,  and,  subse- 
quently, the  regent  Murray  had  contrived  to  refuse  the  restoration  of  con- 
siderable properties  in  Scotland,  either  from  actual  difficulty  of  wresting 
them  from  the  Scottish  holders,  or  from  a  politic  doubt  of  the  expediency 
of  so  far  strengthening  an  enemy — which  tlioy  judged  England  must 
always  in  reality  be — by  admitting  so  many  Englishmen  to  wealth  and 
consequent  power  in  the  very  heart  of  the  kingdom.  Whatever  the  mo- 
tive by  which  Bruce  nnd  Murray  were  actuated  in  this  matter,  their  denial 
or  delay  of  the  stipulated  restoration  gave  great  offence  to  the  numerous 
English  of  high  rank  who  had  a  personal  interest  in  it.  Many  who  were 
thus  situated  were  men  of  great  wealth  and  influence;  and  their  power 
became  more  than  ever  formidable  when  they  were  able  to  command  the 
alliance  of  Edward  Baliol.  He  was  the  son  of  that  John  Baliol  who  had 
briefly  worn  the  Scottish  crown ;  and  he,  like  his  father,  settled  in  France, 
with  the  determination  of  leading  a  private  life  rather  than  risk  all  comfort 
for  the  mere  chance  of  grasping  a  precarious  and  anxious  power.  This 
resolution,  though  consonant  with  the  soundest  philosophy,  was  not  cal- 
culated to  procure  him  much  worldly  estimation;  and  his  really  strong 
claim  to  the  Scottish  royalty  procured  him  so  little  consideration  in  France, 
that  for  some  infraction  of  the  law  he  was  thrown  into  gaol,  as  though 
he  had  been  the  meanest  private  person.  In  this  situation  he  was  discov- 
ered by  Lord  Beaumont,  an  English  baron,  who  laid  claim  to  the  Scotch 
earldom  of  Buchan.  Beaumont  without  loss  of  time  procured  Baliol's  re- 
lease and  carried  him  over  to  England,  where  he  placed  him,  nominally 
at  least,  at  the  head  of  the  confederation  which  already  had  meditated  the 
invasion  of  Scotland. 

King  Edward  secretly  aided  Baliol  and  the  English  barons  in  preparing 
for  their  enterpris",  though  he  would  not  be  persuaded  to  give  them  any 
open  encouragemt  it,  as  he  had  bound  himself  to  pay  20,000  pounds  to  the 
pope,  should  he,  Edward,  commit  any  hostilities  upon  Scotland  within  a 
certain  period  which  had  not  yet  expired ;  moreover,  the  young  king  Da- 
vid, still  a  minor,  was  actually  married  to  Edward's  sister  Jane,  though 
the  marriage  was  not  yet  consummated ;  and  the  world  would  scarcely  fail 
to  censure  Edward  should  he,  under  such  circumstances,  cause  a  renewal 
of  war  between  the  two  countries.  Under  these  circumstances,  eager  as 
Edward  might  be  to  aid  his  nobles  in  their  enmity  to  Scotland,  he  deter- 
mined to  confine  himself  to  secret  proceedings  on  their  behalf;  and,  thus 


319 


THB  fRfcASURY  OF  IIISTOHY. 


niilcd,  Ihflir  nominal  Ipadnr,  Flaliol,  wan  giMM'dily  nt  ihn  head  of  a  force  of 
iwo  thotmand  fivo  hundred  mm,  romniiindcd  \>y  iliri  Lord  llcaiimont  be- 
fore mvnlioncd,  Umfrevdle,  rarl  of  An^fiii,  tin*  Uirdu  Talbot,  Mowhray  and 
other  eminent  haromi  intcroHted  in  tho  adventnro.  Ah  iiucii  n  forcn  rmdd 
hol  bo  HO  Hocrtitly  raiM'das  wholly  to  hav»!  rHcaped  Ihn  notico  of  tho  Scot- 
tish  rc|r('nt,  who  would  naturally  expert  to  bo  attaeke<l  by  iho  Kn(rliNh 
border,  Ualiol  and  hiH  friendN  embarked  at  Uavennpnr  and  landed  their 
force  on  tho  coati  of  Fife.  Tho  former  repent,  Murray,  was  (lend;  and 
hi8  Huccoflsor,  Donald,  earl  of  Mar,  was  far  uiforior  to  hnn  in  warlike  ex- 
perience and  ability.  NevcrthelesH,  tho  KngliMh  were  promptly  and  vig- 
orously  opposed  t  Jo  moment  they  landed ;  and  though  they  sueeeeded  in 
beatinif  back  theii*  undisciplined  opponents,  timo  was  thus  afforded  to  Mar 
to  collect  a  very  largo  urmy,  which  some  historians  reckon  as  high  as  forty 
thousand  men. 

The  hostile  forces  came  in  siuht  on  the  opposite  side  of  tho  river  Krne; 
and  Daliol,  croHNing  that  river  in  tho  night,  attacked  the  unwieldy  foreeof 
the  ScoiH  so  vigorously  and  unexpectedly,  that  he  drove  them  from  the 
flold  with  couHiaerablc  8lau<rhter,  their  numbers  being  a  disadvantage  to 
them  amid  the  confusion.  Uut  as  daylight  approached,  the  Scots  resolved 
onco  more  to  try  their  fortune  against  an  enemy  whose  inferior  numbers 
mi'de  it  disgraceful  to  yield  to ;  but  they  were  charged  while  Ktrag- 
gli  g  over  some  broken  and  difhcult  ground,  and  so  complete  was  the 
rout  that  ensued,  that  while  the  Knglish  lost  scarcely  flfty  men,  the  Scots 
loflt  twelve  thousand,  including  the  earls  ot  Athol  and  Montcith,  the  lord 
Hay  of  Errol,  constable  of  Scotland,  the  lords  Keith  and  Litulsey,  and  the 
earl  of  Carrick,  a  natural  son  of  Robert  Bruce. 

Baliol  followed  up  this  victory  by  taking  Perth.  Here  he  was  block- 
aded by  sea,  and  besieged  on  the  land  by  an  army  of  forty  thousand  Scois, 
under  the  earl  of  March  and  Sir  Archibald  Douglas;  but  the  Knglish ships 
dispersed  the  blockading  squadron;  and  as  Baliol  was  thus  enabled  to  com- 
mand an  abundant  supply  of  provisions,  the  besieging  Scots  were  shortly 
obliged  to  retire  from  that  very  approach  to  famine  by  which  they  had  an- 
ticipated reducing  him  ;  and  the  nation  being  in  effect  subdued,  for  tho 
present  at  least,  Baliol  was  solemnly  crowned  at  Scone  on  the  7th  of  Sep- 
tember. So  little  chance  did  there  now  appear  to  be  of  a  change  of  for- 
tune in  favour  of  David  Bruce,  that  he  and  his  betrothed  wife  departed  for 
France ;  and  their  hitherto  zealous  partisans  sued  Baliol  for  a  truce,  that 
his  title  might  be  fairly  examined  and  decided  upon  by  the  Scottish  par- 
liament. 

A.  D.  1333. — BalioPs  prosperity  was  as  fleeting  as  it  had  been  sudden. 
Having  owed  all  his  success  to  the  presence  of  his  English  supporters,  he 
was  no  sooner  obliged  to  allow  them  to  depart,  from  want  of  means  to 
support  them,  than  Sir  Archibald  Douglas  and  others  of  the  friends  of 
Bruce  fell  upon  Baliol  and  his  slender  attendance,  slew  Baliol's  brother 
John,  and  drove  himself  back  to  England  in  tlie  most  complete  destitution. 
Baliol  had  previously  to  this  reverse  proposed  to  Edward  that  his  sister 
Jane  should  be  divorced  from  David  Bruce,  in  which  event  Baliol  would 
marry  her  and  also  do  homage  to  Edward  for  Scotland  ;  thus  restoring  to 
England  that  superiority  which  the  minion  Mortimer  had  given  up  during 
Edward's  minority.  As  Edward  now  began  to  despair  of  Baliol's  success 
by  any  other  means,  he  resolved  to  interfere  openly,  and  having  obtained 
a  considerable  grant  from  parliament  for  that  purpose — which  grant  was 
accompan.ed  by  a  very  blunt,  though  very  reasonable  desire,  that  he  thence- 
forth "  would  live  on  his  own  revenue  and  not  grieve  his  subjects  with 
illegal  taxes" — he  led  a  considerable  army  to  Berwick,  where  a  powerful 
garrison  was  commanded  by  Sir  William  Keith.  The  plan  of  the  Scot- 
tish leaders  was,  tliat  Keith  should  obstinately  defend  Berwick,  and  while 
he  thus  engaged  the  attention  of  Edward,  Douglas  shoulr'  lead  a  numerous 


THB  TRKASIRY  OF  III8T0IIY 


91S 


fnemy  over  the  bonlor,  and  rarry  tli<  Imrron  iiiic|  \oantn  of  wnr  iiU<)  llii< 
fiiciiiy'H  own  i-oiiiitry.  Hut  K<lwiii<r«  rmy  MiiHMowrll  iIiki||iIiiu'(I  uiitl 
■()  well  providcil,  tliHl  before  Douk'i'^  <'>uIiI  inarcli  into  NnrtlitiriilMfrlitnd 
hi^  I'liMi  of  oporuiions  whn  rlianiK«'il.  i>y  tlit^  inforrmition  o<°  Sir  Willmni 
Kntli  l)('iii|{  rrdncvd  to  nurh  extronnty,  that  ho  had  cni^aKru  to  nnrrcndttr 
HtTWick  should  no  r«dirf  reach  him  within  a  fow  dayn.  l)oit|;l.tM  marched 
to  the  relief  of  that  important  plaee,  and  in  a  ((eiieral  aelioii  that  eiiHiied  the 
NcotH  were  utterly  tiufvatcd,  with  a  loso  of  nearly  thirty  thouNund  inun. 
The  Kiij|[li«h  loss  wbn  cortamly  very  rilling;  yet  we  cannot  without  eon- 
siderable  heHJtation  adopt  tho  aeeouuifl  yrhieh  coneur  in  nNNuriii|{  us  that 
the  total  Knglish  loss  amounted  to  thirteen  .soldierM,  one  esquire,  and  one 
kni(;ht ;  a  loss  which  can  only  he  imaifined  hy  coiiHiduring  that  hattio  to 
liavu  been  littlu  better  than  a  disorderly  iliglil  on  the  one  part  and  a  mur- 
deruus  pursuit  on  the  other. 

As  the  result  of  this  battle,  Scotland  was  acain  apparently  Rubmissive 
to  Haliol.  He  was  acknowledged  as  king  by  tFiu  Scottish  parliament,  and 
he  and  many  of  tho  Scottish  nobles  did  homage  to  Kdward,  who  then  re- 
turned to  Kiigland,  leaving  a  detachment  to  support  Ualiol.  As  long  as 
this  detachment  romaincu  Haliol  was  most  sul)inissivcly,  not  to  say  ser- 
vilely obeyed  by  tho  Scots,  even  when  he  stung  their  national  priile  full 
deeply  by  ceding  in  perpcinity  to  England,  Herwick,  Dunbar,  Roxburgh, 
Kdiiiburgh,  and  the  whole  of  the  south-eastern  countic^s  of  Scotland.  Hut 
as  soon  as  Ualiol,  considering  himself  safe,  and  perhaps  being  seriously 
iiiconvonionccd  by  the  expense  of  keeping  them,  sent  away  his  Kiiglish 
mercenaries,  tho  Scots  again  rose  against  him,  and  after  a  variety  ol 
struggles  between  him  and  Sir  Andrew  Murray,  who  acted  as  regent  in 
helialf  of  the  absent  David  Bruce,  Haliol  was  once  more  chased  from  all 
that  he  fondly  imagined  he  had  perniunently  conquered  for  himself  or 
Rngland. 

A.  D.  1335. — Edward  again  marched  to  chastise  and  subject  the  Scots, 
who  abandoned  or  destroyed  their  homes  and  sought  shelter  in  their 
mountain  fastnesses,  but  only  to  return  again  tho  moment  that  ho  had 
retired.  In  this  obstinately  patriotic  course  tho  Scots  were  greatly  en- 
cournged  by  Edward's  position  with  regard  to  France.  He  had  for  years 
laid  an  unloundcd  claim  to  the  sovereignty  of  that  country,  and  though 
he  had  on  one  occasion  in  the  most  distinct  terms  recognised  Philip's 
right,  and  done  homage  to  him  for  his  lands  there  held,  the  encourage- 
ment of  Robert  d'Arfois  and  the  concurrence  of  Edward's  father-in-law, 
the  count  of  Hainault,  the  duke  of  Hrabant,  the  archbishop  of  Cologne, 
and  several  other  sovereign  princes,  had  induced  Edward  to  persevere  in 
H  claim  which  was  opposed  to  common  sense,  and  plainly  contradict- 
ed by  his  own  deliberate  act  and  deed,  and  thus  laid  the  foundation  of 
a  mutual  hatred  which  has  only  completely  subsided  within  the  memory 
of  iTien  who  as  yet  are  but  young.  He  pretended  that  he  ought  to  suc- 
ceed in  right  of  his  mother  Isabella,  though  Isabella  herself  was  legally 
and  formally  excluded  from  succeeding ;  he  was  thus  guilty  of  the  special 
absurdity  of  claiming  to  inherit  from  a  woman  a  crown  to  which  a  woman 
could  not  succeed — and  he  could  only  support  that  special  absurdity  upon 
a  general  principle — that  of  the  natural  right  of  women  to  succeed  being 
wholly  indefeasible  by  special  regulation ;  and  in  that  case  each  of  th« 
three  last  kings  had  left  daughters  whose  right  upon  that  general  prin- 
ciple would  take  precedence  to  his!  And  yet  such  a  monstrous  absurdity 
of  assumption  found  friends,  and  caused  rivers  of  the  best  blood  of  both 
nations  to  be  shed  in  fierce  conflict ! 

To  all  his  other  abettors  in  this  really  ridiculous  as  well  as  unjust  claim, 
was  now  added  the  well  known  Flemish  demagogue  James  d'Areteveldt, 
a  brewer  of  Ghei:t,  who  had  reached  to  so  despotic  a  power  over  his  fel- 
.ow-citizens,  that,  after  exciting  them  to  furious  resistance  against  tjieir 


314 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTOaV. 


legitimate  sovereigns,  he  liimseir  could  fill  all  the  other  towns  ofFlandert 
with  his  adroit  and  unprincipled  spies,  and  could  put  down  all  chance  of 
opposition  in  Ghent  itself  by  the  simple  process  of  ordering  the  opponent 
to  be  butchered— and  he  was  butchered  without  remorse  or  delay.  To 
this  demagogue  Edward  had  no  difficulty  in  recommending  himself;  for, 
with  the  servility  that  ever  accompanies  the  ambition  of  such  men,  the 
demagogue,  who  detested  his  natural  superiors,  was  in  a  perfect  flutter  of 
gratified  vanity  at  being  solicited  by  a  powerful  foreign  monarch,  and  in- 
vited Edward  to  make  the  Low  Countries  his  'vantage  point  against 
France  ;  suggesting  to  him  that,  to  prevent  the  Flemings  from  having  any 
scruple  about  aiding  him,  he  should  claim  their  aid,  as  rightful  king  of 
France,  in  dethroning  the  usurper,  Philip  of  Valois  ;  that  usurper,  to 
whom,  both  personally  and  by  a  formal  written  deed,  he  had  done  homage 
and  owned  fealty ! 

The  king  of  France  was  greatly  aided  by  the  influence  of  the  pope,  who 
at  this  time  resided  at  Avignon,  and  was  to  a  considerable  extent  de-"* 
pendent  upon  Philip ;  the  king  of  Navarre,  the  duke  of  Brittany,  the  king 
of  Bohemia,  the  bishop  of  Liege,  and  numerous  other  powerful  allies, 
tendered  their  aid  to  Philip,  as  being  really  interested  for  him  ;  while  Ed- 
ward's allies,  looking  only  to  what  they  could  get  of  the  large  sums  he  had 
wrung  from  his  people  for  this  unjustifiable  enterprise,  were  slow  and  cold 
in  theirs. 

A.  D.  1339. — After  much  difUculty  in  keeping  his  hopeful  allies  even  ap- 
parently  to  their  faith,  and  after  having  his  pretensions  to  the  crown  of 
France  very  accurately  pronounced  upon  by  two  of  those  allies,  the  count 
of  Namur  and  the  count  of  Hainault— who  succeeded  his  father  and  Ed- 
ward's father-in-law  in  the  interval  between  the  old  count  joining  in 
Edward's  scheme  and  the  actual  commencement  of  operations — the  two 
counts  in  question  abandoning  Edward  solely  on  the  plea  that  Philip  was 
their  liege  lord,  against  whom  they  as  vassals  could  not  fight,  Edward  en- 
camped near  Capelle  with  an  army  of  nearly  50,000,  the  majority  of  whom 
were  foreign  mercenaries.  Philip  advanced  towards  the  same  spot  with 
nearly  a  hundred  thousand  of  his  own  subjects ;  but,  after  simply  gazing 
at  each  other  for  a  few  days,  these  mighty  armies  separated  without  a 
blow,  Edward  marching  his  mercenaries  back  into  Flanders  and  there 
disbanding  them.  In  this  hitherto  bloodless  and  unproductive  contest  Ed- 
ward had  not  only  expended  all  the  large  sum  granted  by  his  people,  and 
pawned  everything  of  value  that  he  could  pawn,  even  to  the  jewels  of  his 
queen,  but  he  had  also  contracted  debts  to  the  frightful  amount  of  ^300,000, 
and  probably  it  was  the  very  vastness  of  the  sacrifice  he  had  made  that 
determined  liini  to  persevere  in  a  demand,  of  the  injustice  of  which  he 
must  have  been  cons(;ious  from  the  very  outset.  Aware  that  he  had  un- 
mercifully pressed  upon  the  means  of  his  subjects,  and  finding  that  they 
were  daily  growing  more  and  more  impatient  of  his  demands,  Edward 
now  returned  to  England  and  offered  his  parliament  a  full  and  new  con- 
firmation of  the  two  charters  and  of  the  privileges  of  boroughs,  a  pardon 
for  old  debts  and  trespasses,  and  a  reform  of  certain  abuses  in  the  common 
law.  The  first  of  these  the  king  ought  to  have  been  ashamed  to  confess 
to  be  necessary.  But  public  spirit  and  the  control  of  parliament  over  the 
royal  expenditure  were  as  yet  only  in  their  infancy,  and  the  whole  con- 
cessions were  deemed  so  valuable,  that  the  parliament  in  return  granted 
the  king — from  the  barons  and  knights,  the  ninth  sheep,  fleece,  and  lamb 
from  their  estates  for  two  years ;  from  the  burgesses,  a  ninth  of  the.' 
whole  moveables  at  their  real  value ;  and  from  the  whole  parliament,  a 
duty  of  forty  shillint,^  on,  1st.,  each  three  hundred  wool  fells,  and  2d., 
each  last  of  leather,  also  for  two  years.  It  was  expressly  stated  that  this 
grant  was  not  to  be  drawn  into  a  precedent;  but  as  the  king's  necessities 
were  great,  it  was  additionally  determined  that  twenty  thousand  sacks  of 


*;•/,  •»  1EA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


31S 


woiji  should  immediVeiy  be  put  at  his  disposal,  the  value  to  be  deducted 
from  the  ninths  which  would  of  necessity  come  in  more  slowly.  While 
the  parliament  of  England  acted  thus  liberally  in  forwarding  Edward's 
design  upon  France,  ttiey  made  a  formal  declaration  that  they  aided  him 
as  king  of  Flngland,  and  not  as  king  of  France,  and  that  in  the  event  of 
his  conquering  the  latter  country,  the  former  must  ever  remain  wholly 
distinct  trom  and  independent  of  the  latter.  But  had  Edward  been  suc- 
cessful it  certainly  would  not  have  been  this  bare  and  idle  protest  that 
would  have  prevented  so  resolute  and  self-willed  a  monarch  from  remov- 
ing the  seat  of  government  to  France,  and  making  England  a  mere  pro- 
vince and  treasury. 

A.  D.  1340. — Philip  kept  a  watchful  eye  upon  the  English  movements , 
and  when  Edward  at  length  sailed  with  a  fleet  of  two  hundred  and  forty 
vessels,  he  was  encountered  off  Sluys  by  a  French  fleet  of  nearly  four  hun- 
dred vessels,  carrying  forHr  thousand  men.  The  inferior  force  of  the 
English  was  at  the  very  outset  fully  compensated  for  by  the  skill  of  their 
naval  commanders,  who  got  the  weather-gage  of  the  enemy,  and  the  ad- 
vantage of  fighting  with  the  sun  to  their  backs;  while  the  action  taking 
place  so  near  Flandors,  the  Flemings  hastened  out  to  join  the  English,  and 
the  result  of  the  ob.stiuate  and  sanguinary  action  was  the  total  defeat  of 
the  French,  with  the  loss  of  two  hundred  and  thirty  vessels  and  thirty 
thousand  men,  including  two  of  their  admirals. 

Edward,  who»e  loss  had  been  comparatively  trifling,  now  marched  to 
»he  frontiers  of  France  with  an  army  a  hundred  thousand  strong,  his 
recent  triumph  having  caused  a  host  of  foreigners  to  join  him  on  his  land> 
uig.  Robert  d'Artois,  in  the  hope  of  corroborating  the  success  of  Edward, 
laid  Hiege  to  St.  Oiners.  But  though  his  force  numbered  50,000  men,  it 
was  chiefly  composed  of  a  mere  rabble  of  artificers,  so  little  experienced 
m  war  or  in  love  with  its  perils,  that  a  sally  of  the  g.".frison  put  the  whole 
of  this  doughty  army  to  flight,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  its  really  able  and 
brave  commander. 

Edward's  subsequent  operations  were  by  no  means  so  successful.  Ke 
greatly  distressed  Tournay,  indeed,  and  he  suffered  no  very  great  advan- 
tage even  in  the  way  of  mai\oeuvre  to  be  gained  by  the  French;  but  every 
day  brought  some  new  proof  that  his  very  allies  were  at  heart  hostile  to 
his  purpose,  and  only  supported  him  in  their  own  greediness  of  gain ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  supplies  arrived  so  slowly  from  England,  that  he  was 
utterly  unable  to  meet  the  clamorous  demands  of  his  creditors.  A  long 
truce,  therefore,  was  very  gladly  agreed  to  by  him,  and  he  hastily  and  by 
absolute  stealth  returned  to  England.  Annoyed  at  his  want  of  success, 
and  attributing  it  chiefly  to  the  slowness  with  which  supplies  had  reached 
him,  Edward  no  sooner  arrived  in  England  than  he  began  to  vent  his  anger 
upon  his  principal  ofllcers;  and  he  with  great  impolicy  showed  especial 
rage  in  the  case  of  Stratford,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  upon  whom  had 
devolved  the  difllcult  and  not  very  pleasant  task  of  realising  tlie  taxes 
granted  by  the  parliament.  It  was  in  vain  to  urge  to  Edward  that  the 
ninth  sheaf,  lamb,  and  fleece,  being  unusual  taxes,  were  necessarily  col- 
lected with  unusual  slowness  ;  he  was  enraged  at  his  own  ill  success,  and 
was  determined  to  vent  it  upon  his  officers ;  Sir  John  St.  Paul,  keeper  of 
the  privy  seal,  Sir  John  Stoner,  chief  justice,  the  Mayor  of  London,  and 
the  bishops  of  Chichester  and  Litchfield,  were  imprisoned  ;  and  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  only  escaped  the  like  indignity  by  chancing  to  be 
absent  from  London  on  Edward's  arrival. 

A.  D.  1341. — Archbishop  Stratford,  who  really  seems  only  to  have  failed 
in  his  duty  from  tiie  novel  and  diflicult  nature  of  it,  was  not  of  a  temper 
lo  quail  before  the  unjust  anger  even  of  so  powerful  and  passionate  a 
Drince  as  Edward ;  and  on  learning  to  what  lengths  the  king  liad  gone 
with  the  other  great  ofiicers  nf  state,  the  archbishop  issued  a  general  se.'i- 


S16 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


tence  of  excommunication  against  all  who  should  assail  the  clergy  eithei 
in  person  or  property,  infringe  the  privileges  secured  to  them  by  the 
ecclesiastical  canons  and  by  the  great  charter,  or  accuse  a  prelate  oi 
treason  or  any  other  crime  to  bring  him  under  the  king's  displeasure. 
Nor  did  the  bold  and  somewhat  arrogant  archbishop  stop  even  here. 
After  having  thus  generally  aimed  at  tlie  king's  conduct,  and  after  having 
taken  care  to  employ  the  clergy  in  painting  that  conduct  in  tlie  darkest 
colours  to  the  people,  Stratford  personally  addressed  a  letter  to  the  king, 
in  which  he  asserted  the  superiority  of  the  clerical  to  the  civil  power, 
reminded  him  that  the  priesthood  were  answerable  at  the  divine  tribunal 
as  well  for  kings  as  for  subjects,  and  were  the  spiritual  fathers  of  the 
former  as  of  the  latter,  and  were  therefore  manifestly  and  fully  entitled 
both  to  direct  them  to  right  conduct  and  to  censure  them  for  traiisgres. 
sions.  This  bold  and  unlimited  assertion  of  superiority  was  in  no  wise 
calculated  to  soothe  Edward's  irritation,  and  he  marked  his  sense  of  Strat- 
ford's conduct  by  sending  him  no  summons  to  attend  the  parliament.  But 
the  archbishop,  attended  by  a  numerous  and  imposing  train  of  peers, 
spiritual  and  temporal,  presented  himself,  crosier  in  hand  and  in  full  pen- 
tificals,  and  demanded  admission.  For  two  days  the  king  refused  to  admit 
him ;  but  at  length,  fearing  the  consequences  of  too  complete  a  breach 
with  the  ecclesiastical  power,  he  not  only  permitted  him  to  take  his  seat 
in  parliament,  but  also  restored  him  to  his  former  high  office. 

The  maxim  of  the  English  parliament  seems  at  that  time  to  have  been, 
that  the  necessity  of  the  king  should  be  made  the  advantage  of  the  sub> 
ject.  The  close  restrictions  which  had  been  laid  upon  Henry  III.  and 
Edward  II.  were  now,  as  far  as  was  deemed  safe,  made  the  basis  of  the 

Earliament's  demands  upon  Edward  III.  for  concessions  to  be  granted  by 
im  in  return  for  a  grant  of  twenty  thousand  sacks  of  wool.  Edward  was 
so  pressed  by  his  creditors,  that  he  was  obliged  to  comply  with  the  terms, 
hard  as  they  were;  but  as  soon  as  his  necessities  became  somewhat 
mitigated  he  revoked  all  that  he  deemed  offensive,  alledging  that  he  was 
advised  to  do  so  by  some  of  his  barons,  and  that  in  originally  making  such 
concessions  he  had  4^ssembled  and  had  made  them  with  a  secret  protest 
A  most  dishonest  plea  in  itself,  and  one  which,  it  is  obvious,  would,  if 
allowed,  render  all  the  most  solemn  public  engagements  mere  deceptions 
and  mockeries. 

A.  n.  1342.— Dissensions  in  Brittany  led  to  a  state  of  affairs  which  re- 
vived Edward's  expiring  hope  of  conquering  France.  He  accordingly 
sent  a  strong  fleet  and  army  thither  to  the  aid  of  the  countess  of  Mount- 
fort,  who  was  besieged  by  Charles  of  Blois.  Robert  d'Artois,  who  com- 
manded this  force,  fought  a  successful  action  with  the  French,  and  landed 
his  troops  in  Brittany.  He  laid  siege  to  Vannes  and  took  it,  but  shortly 
afterwards  died  of  a  wound  received  at  the  retaking  of  tiiat  place  by  a 
party  of  Breton  nobles  of  the  faction  of  Charles.  Deprived  of  the  services 
of  Robert,  upon  whose  ability  and  valour  Edward  had  great  reliance,  he 
now  determined  to  proceed  in  person  to  the  aid  of  the  countess.  The 
truce  between  England  and  France  had  expired,  and  the  war  was  openly 
and  avowedly  to  be  carried  on  between  these  two  powers,  which  for  some 
time  had  really  been  breaking  their  truce  in  the  character  of  partisans  to 
the  respective  competitors  for  the  duchy  of  Brittany.  Having  landed 
near  Vannes  with  an  army  of  twelve  thousand  men,  Edward,  anxious  to 
make  some  important  impression,  and  greatly  over-rating  his  means  of 
doing  so,  simultaneously  commenced  three  sieges  •  of  Vannes,  of  Ren- 
nes,  and  of  Nantes.  As  might  have  been  expected,  but  little  progress  was 
made  by  a  small  force  thus  divided.  Even  the  chief  siege,  of  Vannes, 
that  was  conducted  by  Edward  in  person,  was  a  failure ;  and  Edward  was 
at  ienirth  obliged  to  concentrate  all  his  troops  in  that  neighbourhood,  on 
account  of  the  approach  of  Philip's  eldest  son.  the  duke  of  Normandy 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


317 


ress  was 
Vanneg, 
ard  was 
lood,  on 
rraandy 


with  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  foot  and  four  thousand  horse.  Edward 
strongly  entrenched  himself;  but  he  soon  became  so  distressed  for  pro- 
visions, while  his  antagonists,  both  of  the  fortress  and  the  army,  were 
well  and  fully  supplied,  that  he  was  glad  to  enter  into  a  truce  of  three 
years,  and  consent  to  Vannes  remaining  in  the  hands  of  the  pope's  legate, 
who  negotiated  the  truce,  and  all  the  other  strong-holds  of  Brittany  to  re- 
main in  the  hands  of  those  who  then  held  them.  Edward  returned  to 
England,  and  though  he  had  made  a  truce  for  the  long  term  of  three  years, 
it  is  quite  clear  from  his  conduct  that  he  merely  did  so  to  extricate  him- 
self and  his  followers  from  actual  capture.  He  made  complaints  of  a  vir< 
tual  breach  of  the  treaty  by  the  punishment  of  certain  Breton  nobles  who 
were  partisans  of  England ;  and  the  parliament,  adopting  his  views, 
granted  him  a  fifteenth  from  the  counties,  and  a  tenth  from  the  boroughs 
for  two  years,  to  which  the  clergy  added  a  tenth  for  three  years.  Henry 
earl  of  Derby,  son  of  the  earl  of  Lancaster  and  cousin  of  the  king,  was 
now  sent  with  a  force  into  Guienne  ;  and  having  beaten  off  all  assailants 
from  that  province,  he  followed  the  count  of  Lisle,  the  French  general,  to 
Bergerac,  beat  him  from  his  entrenchments,  and  took  the  place.  He 
afterwards  subjected  a  great  part  of  Perigord ;  and  the  count  of  Lisle, 
having  re-collected  and  reinforced  his  troops,  attempted  to  recapture  Au- 
beroche,  when  the  earl,  at  the  head  of  1,000  horse,  surprised  him,  com- 
pletely routed  his  force,  and  took  him  prisoner. 

A.  D.  1345. — After  this  the  earl  made  a  most  rapid  series  of  conquests 
on  the  side  of  Guienne,  partly  owing  to  the  general  discontent  of  the 
French  at  some  new  taxes,  especially  one  on  salt,  which  Philip's  neces- 
sities had  compelled  him  to  lay  upon  his  people. 

A.  D.  1346. — As  soon  as  Philip's  finances  became  in  better  order,  vast 
preparations  were  made  by  the  French  to  change  the  aspect  of  affairs.  A 
very  splendid  army  was  led  towards  Guienne  by  the  dukes  of  Normandy 
and  Burgundy,  and  others  of  the  chief  nobles  of  France  ;  and  tlie  earl  of 
Derby  found  his  force  so  inadequate,  that  he  was  compelled  strictly  to 
confine  his  movements  to  the  defensive.  The  French  army,  therefore, 
was  left  full  opportunity  to  lay  siege  to  Angouleme,  and  they  invested  it 
so  closely,  that  Lord  Norwich,  the  gallant  English  governor,  was  reduced 
to  the  most  painful  extremities.  Despairing  of  relief  and  unwilling  to  sur- 
render himself  and  troops  as  prisoners,  he  had  recourse  to  a  not  very 
creditable  stratagem,  which,  moreover,  was  only  successful  in  conse- 
|uence  of  the  rigid  honour  of  the  duke  of  Normandy.  Desi'-ing  a  confer- 
ence with  that  noble  leader.  Lord  Norwich  proposed  a  cessation  of  arms 
for  the  following  day,  which,  as  being  the  feast  of  the  Virgin,  he  professed 
a  dislike  to  desecrating.  The  cessation  of  arms  being  agreed  to,  Lord 
Norwich  marched  his  troops  through  the  beleaguered  city,  and,  as  he 
wished  to  pass  through  the  French  lines,  sent  a  messenger  to  remind  the 
duke  of  the  existing  truce.  "  I  see  the  governor  has  outwitted  me,"  was  the 
noble  reply  of  the  duke,  who  allowed  the  English  to  pass  without  annoy- 
ance, and  contented  himself  with  obtaining  possession  of  the  place. 

While  these  and  minor  transactions  were  passing  in  France,  Edward 
had  been  engaged  in  England  in  preparing  a  splendid  expedition  with 
which  he  and  his  son  the  prince  of  Wales,  now  about  fifteen  years  of  age, 
at  length  set  sail  from  Southampton.  The  original  destination  of  this  ex- 
pedition, which  amounted  to  nearly  a  thousand  sail,  was  Guienne;  but 
contrary  winds  prevaiUng  for  soi  ^  time,  Edward  listened  to  the  advice  of 
GeofiVey  d'Harcourt,  and  resolveo  to  make  a  descent  upon  Normandy,  the 
rich  fields  of  which  would  supply  his  army,  while  the  very  proximity  to 
the  capital  would  render  any  impression  made  there  of  proportionate  im- 

Eortance.     This  determination  made  Edward  speedily  disembark  at  La 
logue,  with  four  thousand  English  men-at-arms  and  ten  thousand  archers, 
together  with  ten  thousand  Welsh  and  six  thousand  Irish  infantry,  who, 


318 


TH»li  TREASURY  OF  HISTOAY 


if  not  veiy  imporlant  in  actual  line  of  battle,  were  admirably  adapted,  m 
quality  of  foragers  and  scouts,  to  be  serviceable  to  their  own  'lorce  and 
most  mischievous  to  the  enemy. 

Having  destroyed  the  shippmg  in  La  Hogue,  Cherbourg,  and  Barfleur, 
Edward,  who  on  landing  had  knighted  his  son  Edward  and  some  of  the 
young  nobility,  dispersed  all  his  lighter  and  more  disorderly  troops  all 
over  the  country,  with  orders  to  plunder  and  destroy,  without  other  res- 
triction  than  that  they  should  return  to  their  camp  by  night.  The  effect 
of  this  order  was  to  spread  the  utmost  consternation  not  only  all  over  the 
province,  but  even  to  Paris  itself;  and  as  Caen  seemed  most  likely  to  be 
the  next  object  of  Edward's  enterprise,  the  Count  d'Eu,  constable  of  France, 
and  the  count  of  Tancarville  were  dispatched  with  an  army  to  its  defence. 
As  had  been  foreseen,  Edward  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  attack 
so  rich  a  place ;  and  the  inhabitants,  encouraged  by  the  presence  of  reg. 
ular  troops,  joined  them  in  advancing  against  the  English.  But  the  zeal 
of  these  civilians  gave  way  at  the  very  first  shock  of  battle,  the  troops 
were  swept  along  with  them,  both  the  counts  were  taken  prisoners,  and 
the  conquering  troops  entered  and  plundered  the  city  with  every  circum- 
stance of  rage  and  violence.  The  unhappy  people  sought  to  procrasti- 
nate  their  doom  b/  barricading  their  houses  and  asbailing  the  English  wiih 
missiles  from  the  windows  and  house-tops,  and  the  soldiers,  enraged  at 
this  more  insulting  than  injurious  opposition,  set  fire  to  two  or  three 
houses  in  various  parts  of  the  town.  But  Edward,  alarmed  lest  the  spoil 
should  thus  be  lost,  stopped  the  violence  of  his  troops,  and,  having  made 
the  inhabitants  give  up  their  vain  resistance,  allowed  his  soldiers  to  plun- 
der the  place  in  an  orderly  and  deliberate  way  for  three  days,  reserving 
to  himself  all  jewels,  plate,  silk,  and  fine  linen  and  woolen  cloths.  These, 
together  with  three  hundred  of  the  most  considerable  citizens  of  Caen, 
he  sent  over  to  England. 

Edward  now  marched  towards  Rouen,  where  he  expected  to  have  a 
similar  profitable  triumph ;  but  finding  the  bridge  over  the  Seine  broken 
down,  and  the  king  of  France  in  person  awaiting  him  with  an  army,  he 
marched  towards  Paris,  plundering  and  committing  the  most  wanton  de- 
struction  on  the  road.  He  had  intended  to  pass  the  Seine  at  Poissy,  but 
found  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river  lined  with  the  French  troops,  and 
that  and  all  the  neighbouring  bridges  broken  down.  By  a  skilful  ma- 
noeuvre he  drew  the  French  from  Poissy,  returned  thither,  repaired  the 
bridge  with  wonderful  rapidity,  passed  over  with  his  whole  army,  and 
having  thus  disengaged  himself  from  danger,  set  out  by  hasty  marches 
from  Flanders.  His  vanguard  cut  to  pieces  the  citizens  of  Amiens,  who 
attempted  to  arrest  their  march;  but  when  the  English  reached  the 
Somme  they  found  themselves  as  ill  situated  as  ever,  all  the  bridges  be- 
ing either  broken  down  or  closely  guarded..  Guided  by  a  peasant,  Edward 
found  a  ford  at  Abbeville,  led  his  army  over  sword  in  hand,  and  put  to 
flight  the  opposing  French  under  Godemar  de  Faye,  the  main  body  of  the 
French,  under  their  king,  being  only  prevented  from  following  Edward 
across  the  ford  by  the  rising  of  the  tide. 

After  this  narrow  escape,  Edward,  unwilling  to  exoose  himself  to  the 
enemy's  superior  cavalry  force  in  the  open  plains  of  I^icardy,  halted  upon 
a  gentle  ascent  near  the  village  of  Crescy,  in  a  position  very  favourable 
for  his  awaiting  the  approach  of  the  French.  Having  disposed  his  army 
in  three  lines,  he  intrenched  his  flanks,  and  there  being  a  wood  in  his  rear, 
in  that  he  placed  his  bagsrage.  His  first  and  second  lines  he  committed 
to  the  young  prince  of  Wales,  with  the  earls  of  Warwick,  Oxford,  Arun- 
del, and  Northampton,  and  the  lords  Chandos,  Holland,  Willoughby,  Ross, 
and  other  eminent  leaders  ;  while  the  third  line,  under  his  own  immediate 
command,  he  kept  back  as  a  corps  de  reserve,  either  to  support  the  former 


THE  TREASURY  O?  HISTORY. 


319 


mro  if  beaten  back,  or  to  improve  any  impression  that  they  might  make 
upon  the  enemy. 

In  addition  to  the  care  with  which  Edward  had  secured  his  flanks  and 
rear,  he  placed  in  his  front  some  cannon,  then  newly  invented  and  never 
before  used  to  any  extent  in  actual  battle.  His  opponent,  though  he  also 
possessed  cannon,  had,  it  should  seem,  left  them  behind  in  his  hasty  and 
furious  march  from  Abbeville. 

Philip's  army  amounted  to  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  mnn  ;  but 
the  superiority  of  the  English  archers,  and  the  inefficiency  of  tlie  bow- 
strings of  the  archers  on  the  French  side,  from  their  not  having  been  se- 
cured against  rain,  caused  the  very  first  charge  to  be  injurious  to  this  vast 
and  tumultuous  host.  Young  Edward  no  sooner  perceived  the  confusir>n 
that  took  place  in  the  crowded  ranks  of  his  enemy,  than  he  led  his  line 
steadily  into  the  melee,  and  so  furious  was  the  combat,  that  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  alarmed  lest  the  gallant  young  prince  should  be  overpowered, 
sent  to  the  king,  who  surveyed  the  battle  from  a  neighbouring  hill,  and  in- 
treated  him  to  send  a  reinforcement.  Learning  that  the  prince  was  not 
wounded,  the  king  said  in  reply  to  Warwick's  message,  "  Return  to  my 
son,  and  tell  him  that  I  reserve  the  honour  of  the  day  to  hitn  ;  I  am  confi- 
dent that  he  will  show  himself  worthy  of  the  honour  of  knighthood  which 
I  so  lately  conferred  upon  him.  He  will  be  able  to  repel  the  enemy  with- 
out my  assistance." 

The  king  of  France,  far  from  inactive,  did  his  utmost  to  sustain  the  first 
line  by  that  which  was  under  his  own  command.  But  the  first  disadvan- 
tage could  not  be  remedied,  and  the  slaughter  momentarily  became  greater. 
Philip  had  already  had  one  horse  killed  under  him,  and,  being  re-mounted; 
was  again  rushing  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  when  John  of  Hainault 
seized  the  bridle  and  literally  dragged  him  from  the  field.  The  battle  was 
now  changed  into  a  complete  rout,  and  the  vanquished  French  were  pursued 
and  slaughtered  until  nightfall.  When  the  king  received  his  gallant  son, 
,ie  rushed  into  his  aims,  exclaiming,  "  My  brave  son,  persevere  in  your 
honourable  course.  You  are  my  son  indeed,  for  valiantly  have  you  ac- 
quitted yourself  to-day.    You  have  shown  yourself  worthy  of  empire." 

The  loss  to  the  French  on  this  most  fatal  occasion  amounted  to  1200 
knights,  1400  gentlemen,  4000  men-at-arms,  and  about  30,000  men  of  infe- 
rior rank.  Among  the  slain  of  superior  rank,  were  the  dukes  of  Lorraine 
and  Bourbon,  the  earls  of  Flanders,  Blois,  and  Vaudemont,  and  the  kings 
of  Majorca  and  Bohemia.  The  latter  king,  though  very  old  and  quite 
blind,  would  not  be  dissuaded  from  taking  a  personal  part  in  the  battle,  but 
had  his  bridle  fastened  to  those  of  two  attendants,  and  was  thus,  by  his 
own  order,  or  at  least  by  his  own  act,  led  to  perish  in  the  thickest  of  the 
fight.  His  crest  and  motto  were  a  triple  ostrich  plume  and  the  words  Ich 
dien,  I  serve,  which  were  adopted  by  the  prince  of  Wales,  and  have  been 
borne  by  all  his  successors,  in  memory  of  this  most  deci3ive  battle. 

Of  this  battle  we  may  remark  as  of  a  former  one,  that  it  seems  to  have 
been  rather  a  chase  murderously  followed  up ;  for  while  the  French  lost  so 
awful  a  number  of  all  ranks,  the  English  lost  only  three  knights,  one 
esquire,  and  a  few  common  soldiers 

Great  as  Edward's  victory  was,  he  clearly  perceived  that  for  the  present 
many  circumstances  warned  him  to  limit  his  ambition  to  capturing  some 
place  that  would  at  all  times  afford  him  a  ready  entrance  into  France  ;  and 
accorrlingly,  after  employing  a  few  days  in  burying  the  dead  and  resting 
his  army,  he  presented  himself  before  Calais. 

John  de  Vienne,  knight  of  Burgundy,  commanded  this  important  garri- 
son ;  an  honour  which  he  owed  to  his  very  high  reputation  and  experience. 
He  was  well  supplied  with  means  of  defence;  and  Edward  at  the  very 
ontset  determined  not  to  attempt  assault,  but  to  starve  this  important  gar- 
rison into  submission.     He  accordingly  intrenched  the  whole  city  and 


320 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


formed  his  camp,  causing  hia  soldiers  to  raise  thatched  huts  for  their  pro 
tection  from  the  severity  of  tlic  weather  during  the  winter.  De  Vienne 
judging  what  was  Edward's  design,  sent  all  the  superfluous  hands  out  a 
the  city,  and,  to  the  honour  of  Edward  be  it  said,  he  not  only  let  the  help, 
less  people  pass  through  his  lines,  but  even  supplied  them  with  money  to 
aid  them  in  seeking  some  other  place  of  refuge. 

During  twelve  months  Edward  was  engaged  in  the  siege  of  Calais,  and 
the  earl  of  Derby  was  during  that  period  carrying  on  war  in  Guienne, 
Poicters,  and  the  southern  provinces  of  France.  Charles  of  BIols  at  the 
same  time  invaded  Brittany,  and  laid  siege  to  the  castle  of  Rochelle  de 
Rien,  where  he  was  attacked  and  taken  prisoner  by  the  countess  of  Mont- 
fort.  While  she  and  her  rival  and  antagonist,  the  wife  of  Charles  de  Blois, 
were  displaying  thoir  courage  and  talents  in  France,  King  Edward's  queen, 
Philippa,  was  still  more  importantly  exerting  herself  in  England.  The 
Scots  had  a  few  years  before  recalled  their  king,  David  Bruce,  and  though 
they  could  not  greatly  rely  upon  his  talent  or  prowess,  they  were  encour- 
aged by  the  engagei'ient  of  Edward  in  France  to  make  an  irruption  into  the 
northern  English  counties,  to  which  they  were  strongly  urged  by  the  king 
of  France,  who  in  all  his  truces  with  Edward  had  shown  great  regard  for 
the  safety  and  welfare  of  Scotland.  With  an  army  of  60,000  men  David 
Bruce  broke  into  Northumberland,  and  ravaged  and  devastated  the  coun- 
try as  far  south  as  the  city  of  Durham.  Philippa,  doubly  indignant  that 
such  an  outrage  should  be  committed  during  the  absence  of  her  husband, 
got  together  an  army  of  only  about  12,000  men,  which  she  placed  under 
the  command  of  Lord  Piercy,  and  accompanied  it  and  him  to  Neville's 
Cross,  near  Durham.  Here  she  addressed  the  troops  in  a  very  spirited 
speech,  and  could  scarcely  be  persuaded  to  retire  even  when  the  battle 
actually  commenced.  The  result  was  proportionate  to  the  gallantry  ot 
the  attempt.  The  Scots  were  completely  routed,  with  a  loss  of  from  fifteen 
to  twenty  thousand  killed,  among  whom  were  Keith,  the  earl  marshal,  and 
Sir  Thomas  Charteris,  the  chancellor;  and  among  a  vast  number  of  pris- 
oners  were  David  Bruce  himself,  the  earls  of  Fife,  Sutherland,  Monteith 
and  Carrick,  the  lord  Douglas,  and  many  nobles  of  less  note. 

Queen  Philippa,  after  lodging  her  important  prisoners  in  the  Tower  of 
London,  was  herself  the  bearer  of  the  news  to  Edward,  who  was  still  be- 
fore Calais,  where  she  was  received  with  all  the  applause  and  admiration 
due  to  her  gallant  and  more  than  womanly  devotion  under  circumstances 
so  difficult. 

A.  D.  1347. — John  de  Vienne  in  his  defence  of  Calais  had  well  justified 
his  sovereign's  choice  of  him.  But  as  Philip  had  in  vain  endeavoured  to 
relieve  him,  and  actual  famine  had  begun  its  dreadful  work  upon  the 
garrison,  De  Vienne  now  offered  to  surrender,  on  condition  that  the  lives 
and  liberties  of  his  brave  fellows  should  be  spared.  But  Edward  was  so 
irritated  by  the  very  gallantry  which,  as  De  Vienne  very  pertinently  ar- 
gued, he  would  have  expected  from  any  one  of  his  own  knights  under  sim- 
ilar  circumstances,  that  he  at  first  would  hear  of  nothing  short  of  the 
whole  garrison  surrendering  at  discretion;  but  he  was  at  length  persua- 
ded to  alter  his  terms,  though  even  then  he  required  that  the  keys  of  the 
place  should  be  delivered  to  him  by  six  of  the  principal  citizens,  bareheaded, 
and  with  ropes  upon  their  necks,  and  that,  as  the  price  of  the  safety  of 
the  garrison,  these  six  men  should  be  at  his  absolute  disposal  for  either 
life  or  deatli. 

To  send  six  men  to  what  seemed  certain  destruction  could  not  fail  to  be 
a  terrifying  propo.sition.  The  whole  garrison  was  in  dismay ;  but  Eustace 
St.  Pierre  nobly  volunteered;  his  example  was  followed  by  five  other  pa 
triots,  and  the  six  brave  men  appeared  in  the  prescribed  form  before  Ed 
ward,  who  only  spared  their  lives — e'en  after  this  touching  proof  of  their 
excellence — at  the  entreaties  made  u  him  upon  her  knees  by  his  queen 
Ihihppa. 


THE  TaBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


On  taking  possession  of  Calais,  Kdward  adopted  a  plan  far  more  polilie 
than  any  inhuman  execution  of  brave  men  could  have  been ;  for,  consid- 
ering that  every  Frenchman  must  needs  be  an  enemy  to  hini,  he  cleared 
this  important  key  to  France  of  all  its  native  iiihabiiHiits,  and  made  it  » 
complete  English  colony. 

A.  D.  1349. — Even  this  politic  measure,  and  a  truce  w*-  h  now  existed 
between  France  and  England,  had  well  nigh  failed  to  preserve  to  Edward 
this  only  valuable  fruit  of  all  his  expense  of  blood  and  treasure.  He  en- 
trusted the  govtjrnorship  of  Calais  to  a  native  of  Paris,  who  had  the  repu- 
talion  of  bravery,  but  who  was  utterly  unrestrained  by  any  feeling  of  fidel- 
ity; and  this  man  volunteered  to  deliver  his  important  trust  to  Oco(frey 
de  Charni,  the  commander  of  the  nearest  French  troops,  on  payment  ol 
twenty  thousand  crowns.  The  traitor  was  himself  betrayed  by  his  secre- 
tary, who  despatched  tidings  of  the  intended  treachery  in  time  to  enable 
Edward,  with  Sir  Walter  Manny  and  the  prince  of  Walt^s,  to  reach  Calais 
with  a  thousand  men.  The  governor  was  secured  and  taxed  wiili  his 
crime ;  and  easily  consented  as  the  price  of  his  pardon,  to  lead  the  French 
into  the  ambush  prepared  for  them  by  Edward.  The  French  appeared 
and  were  attacked  and  concjuered.  Edward  himself  fought  as  a  mere  pri- 
vate gentlemen,  and  was  twice  felled  to  the  earth  by  his  gallant  antagonist, 
Sir  Eustace  de  Rihaumont,  who  at  length  surrendered  to  him.  Those  of 
the  French  officers  wiio  were  captured  were  treated  with  much  distinc- 
tion by  Edward  and  his  heroic  son  ;  and  the  king  not  only  gave  Eustace 
de  llibaumonl  his  liberty  without  ransom,  but  also  presented  him  with  a 
handsome  chaplet  of  pearls,  which  he  desired  him  to  wear  in  memory  of 
having  proved  the  stoutest  knight  with  whom  the  king  of  England  had  ever 
been  personally  engaged. 

Edward,  partly  in  commemoration  of  his  toils  in  F' ranee  and  partly  to 
elevate  the  warlikf?  spirit  among  his  nobles,  shortly  afterwards  established 
the  order  of  the  Garter;  an  order  which,  being  to  this  very  day  limited 
to  twenty- five  persons  beside  the  sovereign,  is  one  of  the  proudest  and 
most  envied  rewards  of  eminent  merit. 

A.  D.  1349. — This  year  deserves  especial  remark  from  the  awful  pesti- 
lence which,  arising  in  the  East,  swept  with  fierce  and  destroying  power 
through  Cngland,  as  through  all  the  rest  of  Europe,  carrying  off  on  an  ave- 
rage  a  full  third  of  the  population  of  every  country  in  which  it  made  its 
appearance. 

A.  D.  1350. — The  miseries  inflicted  by  the  pestilence  upon  both  France 
and  England  tended  to  prolong  the  cessation  of  arms  between  lliein  ;  but 
Charles,  king  of  Navarre,  surnamed,  very  appropriately,  the  Bad,  caused 
much  bloodshed  and  disturbance  in  France  ;  and  Edward,  ai:  length  wea- 
ried with  peace,  allied  himself  with  the  French  malcontents,  and  sent  an 
army  under  the  heroic  prince  of  Wales — who  was  now  generally  known 
by  the  title  of  the  Black  Prince,  from  the  colour  of  his  armour — to  make 
an  incursion  on  the  side  of  Ouienne,  while  he  himself  broke  in  on  the  side 
of  Calais. 

Each  of  these  incursions  was  productive  of  great  loss  to  the  French, 
and  of  numerous  prisoners  and  mucii  spoil  to  the  English,  but  led  to  no 
general  or  decisive  engagement ;  and  before  any  such  could  be  brought  on, 
Edward  was  called  over  to  England  to  prepare  for  a  threatened  invasion 
by  the  Scots,  who  had  surprised  Berwick,  and  had  gathered  an  army  there 
ready  to  fall  upon  the  north  of  England.  But  at  Edward's  approach  they 
retired  to  the  mountains,  and  he  marched  without  encountering  an  enemy 
from  Berwick  to  Edinburgh,  plundering  and  burning  at  every  step.  Baliol 
attended  Edward  on  this  occasion,  and  was  either  so  disgusted  with  the 
ruin  which  he  saw  inflicted,  or  so  utterly  hopeless  of  ever  establishing 
himself  upon  the  Scottish  throne,  that  he  made  a  final  and  formal  lesigna- 
lion  of  his  pretensions,  in  exchauge  for  a  pension  of  two  thousand  pounds 
I.— 21 


3if« 


THfli  TUEASURY  OF  HISTORT. 


A.  n.  1356. — The  princo  of  Walits  in  the  meantime  had  penetrated  into 
the  very  lieart  of  f^rancc,  and  eommitted  incredible  havoc.  Having  only 
an  army  of  12,000  men,  most  of  whom  were  foreign  mereenaries,  lie  was 
anxious  to  march  into  Normandy,  and  form  ajimction  with  the  kingof  Na> 
varre  and  the  Knglish  force  that  wnn  aHsistiiig  thai  monarch,  under  the 
command  of  the  earl  of  Lancaster  ;  but  every  bridjje  being  broken  down 
and  every  pass  guarded,  he  ne.\t  directed  his  march  towards  Guienne. 
John,  king  of  France,  who  had  succeeded  Philip  of  Valois,  though  a  mdd 
and  just  prince  was  a  very  brave  man;  and,  being  enraged  by  the  destruc- 
tion wrought  by  the  young  prince,  he  got  together  an  army  of  nearly 
00,000  men,  with  which  ho  overtook  the  Black  Prince  at  Maupertuis,  near 
Poitiers;  and  the  prince  having  done  all  that  lay  in  his  power  to  prevent 
himself  from  being  compelled  to  fight  at  a  disadvantage,  now  exerted  hitn- 
self  no  less  to  avoid  defeat  even  while  so  fighting. 

With  so  great  a  superiority  of  force,  the  French  king,  by  merely  sur- 
rounding the  English,  might  without  any  risk  have  starved  them  into 
submission  ;  but  both  .Tohn  and  his  principal  nobles  were  so  eager  to  close 
with  and  totally  destroy  so  daring  and  mischievous  an  enemy,  thit  they 
overlooked  all  the  cooler  suggestions  of  prudence.  Even  this  hot  haste 
would  perhaps  have  proved  fatal  to  the  Enn[lish ;  but,  fortunately  for  them, 
though  John  had  no  patience  to  surround  nis  enemy  and  starve  him  into 
submission,  he  did  allow  his  impetuosity  to  be  just  6ufl!iciently  checked 
to  afford  that  enemy  time  to  make  the  very  best  of  his  situation,  bad  as  it 
really  was. 

The  French  had  already  drawn  up  in  order  of  battle,  and  were  prepar- 
ing for  that  furious  and  instant  onset  which,  next  to  patient  hemming  in  of 
the  English,  would  have  been  their  most  certain  means  of  success,  when 
King  John  sufTered  himsef  to  be  delayed  to  enable  the  cardinal  of  Peri- 
gord  to  endeavour  to  bring  the  English  to  terms  without  farther  blood* 
shed.  The  humane  endeavour  of  the  cardinal  was  not  ill  received  by  the 
Black  Prince,  who  was  fully  sensible  of  the  disadvantageous  position 
which  he  occupied,  and  who  frankly  confessed  his  willingness  to  make 
any  terms  not  inconsistent  with  honuor  ;  and  offered  to  purchase  an  unas- 
sailed  retreat  by,  1st,  the  cession  of  all  the  conquests  he  had  made  during 
this  and  the  preceding  campaign,  and  Sdly,  pledging  himself  not  to  serve 
against  France  for  seven  years  from  that  date.  Happy  would  it  have 
been  for  John  had  he  been  contented  with  these  proffered  advantages. 
But  he  imagined  that  the  fate  of  the  English  was  now  absolutely  at  his 
disposal,  and  he  demanded  the  surrender  of  Calais,  together  with  Prince 
Edward  and  a  hundred  of  his  knights  as  prisoners ;  terms  wl.ich  Edward 
indignantly  refused. 

By  the  time  that  the  negotiation  was  terminated  the  day  was  too  far 
spent  to  allow  the  commencement  of  action,  and  Edward  thus  gained  the 
inestimable  advantage  of  having  the  whole  night  at  his  disposal  to  strength- 
en his  post  and  alter  the  disposition  of  his  forces.  Besides  greatly  adding 
to  the  extent  and  strength  of  his  intrenchments,  he  caused  the  captal  de 
Buche,  with  three  hundred  archers  and  the  like  number  of  men-at-arms, 
to  make  a  circuit  and  lie  in  ambush  ready  to  seize  the  first  favourable  op- 
portunity of  falling  suddenly  on  the  flank  or  rear  of  the  enemy.  The 
main  body  of  his  troops  the  prince  had  under  his  own  command  ;  the  van 
he  entrusted  to  the  earl  of  Warwick ;  the  rear  to  the  earls  of  Salisbury  and 
Suffolk ;  and  even  the  chief  subdivisions  were  headed,  for  the  most  part, 
by  warriors  of  scarcely  inferior  fame  and  experience. 

The  king  of  France  also  drew  out  his  army  in  threo  divisions;  the  first 
of  which  was  commanded  by  his  brother  the  duke  of  Orleens,  the  second 
oy  the  dauphin  and  two  of  John's  younger  sons,  and  the  third  by  J.?hn  hiiB- 
self,  who  was  accompauied  bv  his  fourth  son,  Philij.,  ;hen  (uilj  fourte^t 
years  old 


THE  TRBABURY  OF  HlflTORY. 


The  compaiative  weakness  of  the  KiiRlish  army  was  compensated  by 
Its  position,  which  only  allowed  of  the  enemy  approaching  it  aloni;  a  nar- 
row lane  flanked  by  thick  lierlgc.  A  stroni;  advanced  suard  of  the 
French,  led  by  marshals  ('lermontand  Andreheuicommunccdthe  engage* 
nicnt  by  marching  along  thiH  lanu  to  open  a  passage  for  tlie  main  armv* 
This  detachment  was  dreadfully  galled  and  thinned  by  the  English  arcti> 
ers,  who  from  behind  the  hedges  poured  in  their  dt-adly  arrows  with- 
out being  exposed  to  the  risk  of  retaliation.  Uut,  in  spite  of  the  terrible 
shiu^hter,  this  gallant  advanced  guard  pushed  steadily  forward,  and  the 
survivors  arrived  at  tli  end  of  the  lane  and  bravely  charged  upon  a  strong 
body  of  the  English  winch  awaited  them  under  the  command  of  the  prince 
in  person.  But  the  contest  was  short  as  it  was  furious ;  the  head  of  this 
brave  and  devoted  column  was  crushed  even  before  its  rear  conld  fairly 
emerge  from  the  lane.  Of  the  two  marshals,  one  was  taken  prisoner  and 
the  other  slain  on  the  spot,  and  the  rear  of  the  beaten  column  retreated  in 
disorder  upon  its  own  army,  galled  at  every  step  by  the  ambushed  arch- 
ers. At  the  verv  instant  that  the  hurried  return  of  their  beaten  friends 
threw  the  French  army  into  confusion,  tlie  captal  de  Buche  and  his  de- 
tachment made  a  well-timed  and  desperate  charge  upon  the  French 
flank,  so  close  to  the  dauphin,  that  the  nobles  who  had  the  charge  of  that 
young  prince  became  alarmed  for  his  safety,  and  hurried  him  from  the 
fleld. 

The  flight  of  the  dauphin  and  his  immediate  attendants  was  a  signal  for 
that  of  the  whole  division;  the  duke  of  Orleans  and  his  division  followed 
the  example;  and  the  vigilant  and  gallant  Lord  Chandos  seized  upon  the 
important  instant,  and  called  to  Prince  Edward  to  charge  with  all  his 
chivalry  upon  the  only  remaining  division  of  the  French,  which  was  under 
the  immediate  command  of  John  himself.  Feeling  that  uU  depended  upon 
this  one  effort,  John  fought  nobW.  The  three  generals  who  commanded 
the  German  auxiliaries  of  his  an.  v  fell  within  sight  of  him;  ^oung  Philip, 
whose  sword  was  wielded  with  a  hero's  spirit  in  defence  of  his  father,  was 
wounded  ;  and  the  king  himself  was  several  times  only  saved  from  death 
by  the  desire  of  his  immediate  assailants  to  make  him  prisoner;  yet  still 
he  shouted  the  war-cry  and  brandished  his  blade  as  bravely  as  though  his 
cause  had  been  truly  triumphant.  Even  when  he  was  sinking  with  fatigue 
he  demanded  that  the  prince  in  person  should  receive  his  sword ;  but  at 
length,  overwhelmed  by  numbers,  and  being  informed  that  the  prince  was 
too  far  off  to  be  broughtt  to  the  spot,  he  threw  down  his  gauntlet,  and  he 
and  his  gallant  boy  were  taken  prisoners  by  Sir  Dennis  de  Morbec,  a 
knight  of  Arras,  who  had  fled  from  his  country  on  being  charged  with 
murder. 

The  gallant  spirit  which  John  had  displayed  ought  to  have  protected 
him  from  further  ill;  but  some  English  soldiers  rescued  him  from  de 
Morbec,  in  hope  of  being  rewarded  as  his  actual  captors  ;  and  some  Gas- 
cons, actuated  by  the  same  motives,  endeavoured  to  wrest  him  from  the 
English ;  so  high,  indeed,  ran  the  dispute,  that  some  on  both  sides  loudly 
threatened  rather  to  slay  him  than  to  part  with  him  living  to  their  oppo- 
nents, when,  fortunately,  the  earl  of  Warwick,  dispatched  by  the  prince  of 
Wales,  arrived  upon  the  spot  and  conducted  him  in  safety  to  the  royal  tent. 

Prince  Edward's  courage  and  conduct  in  the  field  were  not  more  credit- 
able to  him  than  the  striking  yet  perfectly  unaffected  humanity  with  which 
he  now  treated  his  vanquished  enemy.  He  received  him  at  his  tent,  and  con- 
ducted himself  as  an  inferior  waiting  upon  a  superior  ;  earnestly  and  truly 
ascribed  his  victory  less  to  skill  than  the  fortune  of  war,  and  waited  be- 
hind the  royal  prisoner's  chair  during  the  banquet  with  which  he  was 
served.  The  example  of  the  prince  was  followed  by  his  army ;  all  the 
prisoners  were  released,  and  at  such  moderate  ransoms  as  did  not  press 
upon  them  individually,  though  their  great  number  made  the  Englisn  sol 
diers  wealthy. 


324 


THE  THRAHUaV  OF  U18T0UY. 


Kdwanl  now  iimdo  a  truco  with  ihe  French  for  two  yeara,  and  rondnri. 
ed  John  to  to  liondon,  treating  him  not  a*  u  ciiplivi!  but  as  a  monarch; 
taking  earo  himsfir  to  appear,  alike  as  to  horse  and  attirf,  as  a  pcrnon 
of  inferior  station. 

Kintf  Kdward  showed  his  approval  of  his  son's  modoNtand  delicate  con- 
duct by  closely  imitating  it;  advancing  to  Southwark  to  meet  John  on 
his  landing  there,  and  in  every  sense  treating  him  not  as  a  captive  but  as 
a  monarch  and  voluntary  visitor. 

Kdward  had  now  two  kings  his  prisoners  in  London.  But  the  contin- 
ued captivity  of  David  Druco  had  proved  less  injurious  to  Scotland  than 
Edward  had  anticiimted,  the  power  of  that  country  being  ably  and  inde- 
fatigal)ly  directed  by  David's  heir  and  nephew,  Robert  Stuart.  Kdward 
therefore  restored  David  to  liberty  at  a  ransom  of  100,000  marks,  for  the 
payment  of  which  the  sons  of  his  principal  nobles  became  hostages. 

A.  D.  1358. — Though  the  very  virtues  of  John,  king  of  France,  were  cal- 
culated to  encourage  disobedience  to  him  in  so  turbidcnt  and  ill-reguiiitcd 
an  age,  and  in  a  country  so  often  convulsed  as  France  was  by  being  made 
the  theatre  of  war,  yet  his  absence  was  early  and  visibly  productive  of  in. 
jury  and  disturbance  to  his  kingdom.  If  his  goodness  had  been  so.nc- 
times  imposed  upon  and  liis  kindness  still  more  frequently  abused,  yet 
as  it  was  well  known  that  he  had  both  wisdom  and  courage,  his  pres- 
ence had  kept  the  ill-disposed  within  certain  bounds.  The  dauphin,  upon 
whom  the  difficult  task  now  lay  of  ruling  during  the  imprisonment  of  his 
father,  was  brave  and  of  good  capacity  ;  but  he  had  one  fatal  defect,  in  it- 
self sufficient  to  incapacitate  him  for  fully  supplying  his  father's  place  ;  he 
was  only  eighteen  years  of  age.  How  far  tliat  circumstance  weakened 
bis  authority  appeared  on  the  very  first  occasion  of  his  assembling  the 
states.  Though  his  father  was  now  made  captive  in  defending  the  kingdom 
the  young  dauphin  no  sooner  demanthid  the  supplies  which  his  father's  cap 
tivity  and  the  situation  of  the  kingdom  rendered  so  necessary,  than  he  wa» 
met  not  by  a  generous  vote  of  sympathy,  confidence,  and  assistance,  but 
by  a  harsh  and  eager  demand  for  the  limitation  of  the  royal  authority,  foi 
redress  of  certain  alledged  grievances,  and  for  the  liberation  of  the  kingol 
Navarre,  who  had  been  so  mischievous  to  France  even  while  John  was  at 
liberty  to  oppose  him,  and  whose  liberation  now  might  rationally  be  ex- 
pected to  be  productive  of  the  very  worst  consequences.  This  ungener- 
ous conduct  oi*  the  states  did  not  lack  imitators.  Marcel,  provost  of  the 
merchants,  the  first  and  most  influential  magistrate  of  Paris,  instead  of 
using  the  weiaht  of  his  authority  to  aid  the  dauphin,  actually  constituted 
himself  the  ringleader  of  the  rabble,  and  encouraged  them  in  the  most  in- 
solent and  unlawful  conduct.  The  dauphin,  thus  situated,  found  that  he 
was  less  the  ruler  than  the  prisoner  of  these  ungrateful  men,  who  carried 
their  brutal  disrespect  so  far  as  to  muider  in  his  presence  the  marshals 
de  Clermont  and  de  Conflans.  As  usual,  the  indulgence  of  ill-disposi 
tions  increased  their  strength;  all  the  other  friends  and  ministers  of  the 
dauphin  were  threatened  with  the  fate  of  the  murdered  marshals,  and  he 
at  length  seized  an  opportunity  to  escape.  The  frantic  dem  igogues  of 
Paris  now  openly  levied  war  against  the  dauphin,  and  it  is  scarcely  neces- 
sary to  add  that  their  example  was  speedily  followed  by  every  large  town 
in  the  kingdom.  Those  of  the  nobles  who  deemed  it  time  to  exert  therc- 
eelves  in  support  of  the  royal  authority  were  taunted  with  their  flight  from 
the  battle  of  Maupertuis,  or  as  it  was  generally  termed,  of  Poitiers ;  the 
king  of  Navarre  was  liberated  from  prison  by  aid  of  the  disaffected, 
and  the  whole  kingdom  was  the  prey  of  the  most  horrible  disorders. 

The  dauphin,  rather  by  his  judgment  than  by  his  military  talents,  re- 
duced the  country  at  length  to  something  like  order.  Edward  in  tho 
meantime  had  practised  so  successfully,  and,  we  may  add,  so  ungen- 
erously,  upon  the  captive  John,  as  to  induce  him  to  sign  a  treaty  which 


THR  TIlRAi^lMlY  OF  lllflTORY  M| 

Ivnii  no  mnnirpRtly  nml  unfairly  iiijiirii)ii<i  to  Frtiiict',  that  the  ihiiiphiii  re< 
fiiHcd  to  bo  hound  by  it.  (a.  i»-  i;t.')!»-»l().)  War  coiibi  qiieiitly  was  ro- 
cointnciiced  by  Kdward;  bcit  lhoui{li  thf  Kiiglish  armies  triivt'rH<'d  France 
from  end  to  end,  and  corninittt'd  tht!  most  di^grucfrul  ravagee,  Kdward'a 
gurccMH  was  8o  disproportionatr,  and  his  advant.igcii  nxiHt.inily  provrtd  ho 
fleeting,  that  even  thu  duke  oT  I.an(M>ter,  hiit  own  near  rehitive  and  zeaU 
uU!«  an  well  as  able  general,  renimirilrated  with  him  upon  his  abnurd  olmti- 
nacy  in  insiftling  upon  terms  ho  extreme,  that  they  were  calculated  rather 
to  induce  desperation  than  to  iiiehne  to  subinission. 

These  remonstrances,  baeked  as  they  were  by  the  whole  circumstancen 
of  the  case,  at  length  led  Kdwaid  to  incline  to  more  reasonable  terms. 
By  way  of  salvo  to  his  dijjnity,  or  pride,  he  professed  to  have  made  a 
vow  during  an  awful  tem|)eKt  wiiifdi  threatened  the  destruction  of  his 
army,  and  in  obedience  to  this  his  alledged  vow  he  now  condudrd  peace 
on  the  following  footing,  viz. :  that  King  John  should  be  restored  to  lib- 
erty at  u  ransom  of  three  millions  of  golden  crowns ;  that  Kdward  should 
for  himself  and  his  successors  renounce  all  claim  to  the  crown  of  Prance, 
and  to  his  ancestral  provinces,  Anjou,  Touraine,  Maine,  and  Normandy  ; 
and  sliould  in  exchange  receive  other  specilied  districts  in  that  direction, 
with  Calais,  Quisnes,  Montreuil,and  Ponthieu,  on  the  other  side  of  France, 
in  full  and  independent  sovereignty;  together  with  sundry  other  stipula- 
tions. John  was  accordingly  restored  to  liberty  ;  and  as  he  had  Ixieii  per- 
sonally well  treated  in  Knglaiid,  and,  besides,  was  at  all  times  greatly  in- 
clined to  sincerity,  he  seems  to  have  ex»rted  himself  to  the  utmost  to 
cause  the  treaty  to  be  duly  fulfilled.  But  ttie  people  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Guienne  were  obstinately  bent  agiinst  living  under  the  Kn^rJish  do- 
minion; and  some  other  difUculties  r  rose  which  i'lduitcd  John  lo  return 
to  England  in  the  hope  of  adjusiing  >niittors,  when  he  sickened  and  died, 
A.  D.  1363. 

A.  D.  13G4. — Charles  the  dauphin,  who  succeeded  to  the  throne  of 
France,  devoted  his  first  efforts  to  settling  all  disturbances  in  his  own 
realm,  and  ridding  it  of  the  numerous  "//ee  companions,'^  who,  soldiers  in 
time  of  war  and  robbers  in  time  of  peace,  were  one  of  the  principal 
causes  of  all  the  disorder  that  reigned ;  and  he  was  prudent  enough  to 
cause  them  to  flock  to  that  Spanish  war  in  which  the  Black  Prince  most 
imprudently  took  part. 

Having  got  rid  of  this  dangerous  set  of  m<  md  having  with  secret 
gladness  behold  the  Black  Prince  ruining  him>.  It  alike  in  health  and  for- 
tune in  the  same  war  which  drafted  so  iiauy  desperate  rufflans  from 
France,  Charles,  in  '.he  very  face  of  his  faihoi\  treaty,  assumed  a  feudal 
power  to  which  he  had  no  just  claim.  Edwuird  recommenced  war;  but 
though  France  once  more  was  extensively  ravaged,  a  truce  was  at  length 
agreed  upon,  when  the  varied  events  of  war,  consisting  rather  of  the 
skirmishes  of  freebooters  than  of  the  great  strife  of  armies,  had  left  Ed- 
ward scarce  a  foot  of  ground  in  France,  save  Calais,  Bourdeaux,  and 
Bayonne. 

A.  D.  1376.— Edward  the  Black  Prince,  feeble  in  health,  had  for  some 
time  past  been  visibly  hastening  to  the  grave.  His  warlike  prowess  and 
his  unsullied  virtue— unsullied  save  by  that  warlike  fury  which  all  man- 
kind are  prone  to  rate  as  virtue — made  his  condition  the  source  of  a  very 
deep  and  miiversal  interest  in  England,  which  was  greatly  heightened  by 
the  unpopularity  of  the  duke  of  Lancaster,  who,  it  was  feared,  would 
take  advantage  of  the  minority  of  Richard,  son  and  heir  of  the  Black 
Prince,  to  usurp  the  throne.  This  general  interest  grew  daily  more  deep 
and  painful,  and  the  Black  Prince,  amid  the  sorrow  of  the  whole  nation, 
expired  on  the  8th  of  June,  in  the  very  prime  of  manhood,  affed  only 
forty-six.    The  king,  who  was  visibly  affected  by  the  loss  of  his  son. 


SS0 


THE  TEBASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


lived  only  a  year  longer,  dying  on  the  Slst  of  June,  1377  in  the  Slat  year 
of  his  reign,  and  in  the  65th  of  his  age. 

The  sense  of  power  is  usually  more  influential  on  men's  judgment 
than  the  sense  of  right ;  and  though  his  wars  both  with  Scotland  and 
France  chiefly  originated  in  tyrannous  self-will,  the  splendour  of  his  war- 
like talents  and  the  vigour  of  his  character  made  him  beloved  and  ad- 
mired  by  his  people  d  iriiig  his  life,  and  still  make  the  English  historian 
love  to  linger  over  his  reign.  His  very  injustice  to  foreign  people  kept 
sedition  and  its  fearful  evils  afar  from  his  own  subjects ;  and  if  he  was 
himself  but  too  burdensome  in  the  way  of  taxation,  he  at  least  kept  a 
firm  hand  over  his  nobles,  and  did  much  towards  advancing  and  establish- 
ing the  right  of  the  people  at  large  to  be  unmolested  in  their  private  life, 
and  to  have  their  interests  considered  and  their  reasonable  demands  at- 
tended to.  It  has,  indeed,  been  generally  admitted  that  he  was  one  of 
the  best  and  most  illustrious  kings  that  ever  sat  on  the  English  throne, 
and  that  his  faults  were  greatly  outweighed  by  his  heroic  virtues  and 
amiable  qualities.  On  the  whole,  the  reign  of  Edward  III.,  as  it  was  one 
of  the  longest,  so  was  it  also  one  of  the  brightest  in  England's  history. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  REION    OF   RICHARD    II. 

A.  D.  1377. — Edward  III.  was  succeeded  by  Richard  II.,  son  of  the 
Black  Prince.  The  new  king  was  but  little  more  than  eleven  years  old ; 
but  he  had  three  uncles,  the  dukes  of  Lancaster,  York,  and  Gloucester, 
whose  authority,  aided  by  the  habits  of  obedience  which  the  firm  rule  of 
the  late  king  had  established,  seemed  to  promise  at  the  least  an  undis 
turbed  minority. 

The  very  commmencement  of  this  reign  proved  how  much  Edward  III. 
had  raised  the  views  and  added  to  the  importance  of  the  commons  in 
parliament,  the  deliberative  business  of  which  had  now  so  much  increased, 
that  they  found  it  necessary  to  choose  a  speaker,  both  to  be  their  organ 
of  communication  and  to  keep  due  order  and  gravity  in  their  debates. 
The  choice,  however,  showed  but  little  gratitude  to  the  late  king,  for  it 
fell  upon  Peter  de  la  Mare,  a  man  who  had  distinguished  himself  by  op- 
position to  the  late  king's  ministers,  and  had  been  imprisoned  for  a  vio- 
lent attack  on  Alice  Pierce  (or  Perrers,)  who,  as  the  king's  mistress,  had 
become  so  unpopular  in  consequence  of  the  influence  she  was  supposed 
to  have  upon  his  measures,  that  he  was  obliged  to  part  with  her  to  ap- 
pease the  popular  clamour. 

Though  the  choice  of  this  person  for  speaker  did  not  indicate  any  in- 
tention on  the  part  of  the  commons  towards  too  submissive  a  conduct, 
they  did  not  immediately  show  any  desire  unduly  to  interfere  in  the  gov- 
ernment, but  confined  themselves  to  petitioning  the  lords  that  a  council 
of  nine,  composed  of  trustworthy  and  virtuous  men,  should  be  appointed 
to  conduct  the  public  business,  and  to  superintend  the  life  and  education 
of  the  young  king  during  his  minority.  The  former  part  of  the  petition 
was  answered  by  the  appointment  ol  the  bishops  of  London,  Carlisle,  am' 
Salisbury,  the  earls  of  March  and  Stafford,  and  sirs  Richard  de  SlaflTord, 
Henry  le  Scrope,  John  Devereux,  and  Hugh  Seagrave,  who  were  em- 
powered to  conduct  the  public  business  for  one  year.  With  respect  to 
the  latter  portion  of  the  petition,  the  lords  declined  interfering  with  it, 
reasonably  thinking  that  to  interfere  in  the  young  prince's  private  life 
and  education,  unless  his  royal  uncles  proved  careless  or  inimical,  would 
be  neither  delicate  nor  just. 

Of  the  til  ree  uncles,  the  duke  of  Lancaster  was  certainly  by  far  the 


THB  TBEASUBY  OF  HI8T0R  <'. 


327 


any  in- 
conduct, 
the  gov- 

council 
ppoinled 
ducalion 

petition 

isle,  am^ 
Stafford, 
vera  ein- 
espect  to 

with  it, 
ivate  life 
al,  would 


rtbicst,  and  probably  not  the  least  ambitious ;  and  ihougn  there  was  no 
one  to  whom  any  authority  was  ostensibly  or  formally  given  to  control 
the  council,  Lancaster  seems  to  have  been  the  actual  regent  who  for  some 
years  not  only  governed,  but,  by  his  irresistible  though  secret  influence 
even  appointed  the  council. 

As  is  usual  with  popular  and  numerous  assemblies,  the  commons,  on 
finding  their  interference  complied  with  instead  of  being  resented,  be- 
came anxious  and  somewhat  impatient  to  push  it  still  farther.  Scarcely 
had  the  greater,  and  also  the  most  important  part,  of  their  first  petition 
been  acted  upon  ere  they  presented  another,  in  which  they  prayed  the 
king  and  his  council  to  take  measures  to  prevent  the  barons  from  confed- 
erating together  to  uphold  each  other  and  their  followers  in  violent  and 
unlawful  deeds.  A  civil  answer  was  given  to  this  petition ;  but  though 
the  answer  was  couched  in  those  general  terms  which  really  bind  the 
parties  using  them  to  no  particular  course,  it  speedily  called  forth  another 
petition  of  a  far  more  ambitious  nature,  and  calculated  to  add  at  one  step 
most  prodigiously  to  the  influence  of  the  commons,  who  now  prayed  that 
during  the  minority  of  the  king  all  the  great  officers  should  be  appointed 
by  parliament— clearly  meaning  that  the  mere  appointment  by  the  lords 
should  thenceforth  be  of  no  validity  unless  it  were  confirmed  by  the 
commons.  This  petition  did  not  meet  with  so  favourable  a  reception; 
the  lords  still  retained  to  themselves  the  power  of  appointing  to  the  great 
offices  of  state,  and  the  commons  took  part  in  the  appointments  only  by 
tacit  acquiescence. 

Previous  to  this  parliament  being  dissolved  the  commons  gave  another 
proof  of  their  consciousness  of  their  own  growing  importance,  by  repre- 
senting the  necessity  as  well  as  propriety  of  their  being  annually  assem- 
bled, and  by  appointing  two  of  their  number  to  receive  and  disburse  two- 
fifteenths  and  two-tenths  which  had  been  voted  to  the  king. 

A.  D.  1381. — Though  the  war  with  France  broke  forth  from  time  to 
time,  in  spite  of  the  prudent  conduct  of  Charles,  who  most  justly  was 
called  The  Wise,  the  military  operations  were  not  such  as  to  demand  de- 
tail. But  if  unproductive  of  glory  or  territory,  the  war  was  not  the  less 
destructive  of  treasure;  and  on  the  parliament  meeting  in  1380,  it  was 
found  requisite,  in  order  to  provide  for  the  pressing  and  indispensable 
necessities  of  the  government,  to  impose  a  poll-tax  of  three  groats  upon 
every  person,  male  and  female,  who  was  more  than  fifteen  years  of  age. 
There  was  no  foreign  country  with  which  England  had  so  close  and 
continued  an  intercourse  as  with  Flanders,  which  greatly  depended  on 
England  for  its  supply  of  the  wool  necessary  for  its  manufactures.  The 
spirit  of  independence  that  had  arisen  among  the  Flemish  peasants,  as 
exemplified  in  the  brutalities  which  they  had  committed  upon  their  nat- 
ural and  lawful  rulers,  and  the  servility  with  which  they  had  submitted  to 
the  utmost  tyranny  at  the  hands  of  a  brewer,  now  began  to  :;ommunicate 
itself  to  the  lower  order  in  England.  Then,  as  in  far  more  modern  times, 
there  were  demagogues  who  sought  to  recommend  themselves  to  the 
credulous  people,  and  to  prey  upon  them  by  the  loud  inculcation  of  an 
equality  among  mankind,  which  no  man,  not  decidedly  inferior  to  all  the 
rest  of  his  race  in  the  quality  of  intelligence,  can  fail  to  see  is  but  par- 
tially true  in  the  abstract,  and  wholly  false  by  force  of  circumstances 
which  are  at  once  inevitable  and  perfectly  independent  of  the  form  of 
government  and  even  of  the  good  or  bad  administration  of  the  laws. 
Among  the  demagogues  who  just  at  this  period  raised  their  voices  to  de- 
ceive and  plunder  the  multitude,  was  one  John  Ball,  a  degraded  priest, 
but  a  man  by  no  means  destitute  of  ability.  To  such  a  man  the  imposi 
.ion  of  a  tax  which  was  both  excessive  and  cruel  in  the  then  state  of 
labour  and  its  wages,  was  a  perfect  godsend ;  and  the  opportunity  it  af- 
forded him  of  giving  vent  to  exciting  and  plausible  declamation,  was  not 


328 


THB  TRBA8UEY  OP  HI8T0EY 


diminished  by  the  bitter  and  impolitic  mockery  of  a  recommendation  from 
the  cuuncil,  that  when  this  new  poll-tax  should  be  found  to  press  too  ae. 
verely  on  the  poor,  the  wealthy  should  relieve  them  by  increasing  their 
own  contribution. 

It  is  not  easy  to  imagine  any  circumstances  under  which  so  exces^sive 
a  demand  upon  a  suffering  population  could  have  failed  to  cause  discon. 
tent  and  sedition ;  but  when  to  the  excess  of  the  tax  the  excited  temper  oi 
the  people  and  the  activity  of  their  deluders,  the  demagogues,  was  added 
an  insolent  brutality  on  the  part  of  the  collectors,  there  could  be  littla 
doubt  of  the  occurrence  of  great  and  extended  mischief. 

The  tax  in  question  was  fanned  out  to  the  tax-gatherers  of  the  various 
districts,  who  thus  had  a  personal  interest  in  the  performance  of  their  in- 
vidioiis  duty,  which  was  certainly  not  likely  to  make  them  less  urgent  oi 
less  insolent  Every  where  the  tax  raised  complaints  both  loud  and  deep, 
and  every  poor  man  was  anxious  to  avail  himself  of  any  possible  misrep- 
resentation as  to  the  age  of  the  children  for  whom  he  was  charged.  The 
blacksmith  of  a  village  in  Essex  having  paid  for  the  rest  of  his  family, 
refused  tr  do  so  for  a  daughter  whom,  whether  truly  or  falsely  does  not 
appear,  he  stoutly  averred  to  be  under  the  prescribed  age ;  and  the  tax- 
gatherer,  a  low  brutal  fellow,  offered  a  violent  indecency  to  the  girl  in 
proof  of  his  right  to  the  demand.  The  father,  poor,  irritated  at  the  loss  of 
the  money  he  had  already  paid,  and  doubly  indignant  at  the  outrage  thus 
offered  to  his  child,  raised  the  ponderous  hammer  he  had  just  been  using 
in  his  business,  and  dashed  the  ruffian's  brains  out  on  the  spot.  Under  a 
state  of  less  violent  excitement  the  bystanders  would  probably  have  been 
shocked  at  the  smith's  fatal  violence ;  but  as  it  was,  the  murder  acted  like 
a  talisman  upon  the  hitherto  suppressed  rage  of  the  people,  and  in  a  few 
hours  a  vast  multitude,  armed  with  every  description  of  rude  weapon,  was 
gathered  together,  with  the  avowed  intention  of  taking  vengeance  on  their 
tyrants  and  of  putting  an  end  to  their  oppression.  From  Essex  the  flame 
spread  to  all  the  adjoining  counties  ;  and  so  sudden  and  so  rapid  was  the 
gathering,  that  before  the  astounded  government  could  even  determine  on 
what  course  to  follow,  upwards  of  a  hundred  thousand  desperate  men  had 
assembled  on  Blackheath,  under  the  command  of  Wat  Tyler,  the  black- 
smith, and  several  other  ringleaders  who  bore  the  assumed  names  of  Hob 
Carter,  Jack  Straw,  and  the  like.  The  king's  mother,  the  widow  of  the 
heroic  Black  Prince,  in  returning  from  a  pilgrimage  to  Canterbury,  had 
to  pass  through  this  desperate  and  dissolute  multitude;  and  such  was  their  in- 
discriminate rage,  that  she,  to  whom  they  owed  so  much  respect,  was  taken 
from  her  vehicle,  insulted  with  the  familiar  salutes  of  drunken  clowns,  and 
her  attendants  were  treated  with  equal  insult  and  still  greater  violence 
A.t  length,  probably  at  the  intercession  of  some  of  the  least  debased  of  the 
leaders,  she  was  allowed  to  proceed  on  her  journey. 

The  king  in  the  meantime  had  been  conducted  for  safety  to  the  Tower 
of  London,  and  the  rebels  now  sent  to  demand  a  conference  with  him. 
He  sailed  down  the  river  in  a  barge  to  comply  with  their  request,  but  as 
he  approached  the  shore  the  mob  showed  such  evident  inclination  to  brute 
violence,  that  he  was  compelled  to  return  to  the  fortress. 

In  London  the  disorder  was  by  this  time  at  its  height.  The  low  rabbit 
of  the  city,  always  in  that  age  ripe  for  mischief,  had  joined  the  rioters  fronj 
the  country ;  ware-houses  and  private  houses  were  broken  open,  and  not 
merely  pillaged,  but  the  contents  burned  or  otherwise  destroyed  when  they 
could  not  be  carried  away  ;  and  the  Savoy  ptlace,  the  property  of  the  duke 
of  Lancaster,  which  had  so  long  been  the  abode  of  the  king  of  France,  was 
in  wanton  mischief  completely  reduced  to  ashes.  Ascribing  their  suffer- 
ings  to  the  richer  and  better  instructed  classes,  the  mob  not  merely  mal- 
treated, but  in  very  many  cases  even  murdered,  such  gentlemen  as  were 


THB  TREASURY  07  HISTORT.  g|^ 

onfortiinate  enough  to  fall  into  their  hands ;  and  lawyers,  especially,  were 
treated  without  mercy. 

The  Iting  at  length  left  the  Tower  and  proceeded  to  a  field  near  Mile 
Enil,  where  one  of  the  main  bodies  of  the  rioters  had  assembled.  They 
surrounded  him  with  peremptory  demands  for  a  general  pardon  for  all  con- 
cerned in  the  insurrection,  the  instant  aboil'iin  of  all  villeinage,  and  of 
tolls  and  imposts  in  all  markets,  together  with  a  fixed  money  rent  of  land* 
holdings,  instead  of  personal  service.  The  government  was  as  yet  in  no 
condition  to  proceed  to  forcible  measures  ;  and,  consequently,  charters  to 
the  above  were  hastily  drawn  out  and  delivered,  and  this  body  of  rioters 
was  thus  sent  peaceably  away. 

But  the  danger  was  as  yet  only  partially  past.  A  larger  body  of  the 
rebels,  headed  by  Wat  Tyler  and  otner  leading  insurrectionists,  had  in  the 
meantime  broken  into  the  Tower  and  put  to  death  Simon  Sudbury,  chan- 
cellor and  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  Sir  Robert  Hales  the  treasurer, 
with  some  other  persons  of  high  rank,  though  of  less  note ;  and  were  pas- 
sing through  Smithfield  just  as  the  king  and  his  attendants  entered  that 
place.  The  king  with  a  spirit  and  temper  far  beyond  his  years,  for  he  was 
now  only  sixteen,  entered  into  conference  with  Wat  Tyler,  who  had  pre- 
viously left  his  band  with  an  order  to  rush  on  at  a  given  signal,  murder  the 
whole  of  the  royal  retinue,  and  make  the  young  monarch  their  prisoner. 
Flushed  with  his  brutal  and  hitherto  unchecked  triumph,  Wat  Tyler  made 
such  menacing  gestures  as  he  spoke  to  the  king,  that  William  Walsworth, 
the  then  mayor  of  London,  was  so  provoked  out  of  all  sense  of  the  danger, 
that  he  struck  the  ruffian  to  the  ground,  and  he  was  speedily  dispatched. 
A  fierce  yell  from  the  rebels  proclaimed  their  rage  at  the  loss  o*"  "heir 
leader ;  but  befere  they  could  rush  upon  the  royal  party,  young  Richard 
rode  steadily  up  to  them,  and  in  that  calm  tone  of  high  confidence  and 
command  which  has  so  great  an  influence  over  even  the  most  violent  men, 
exclaimed,  "  My  good  people !  What  means  this  disorder  1  Are  ye  angry 
that  ye  have  lost  your  leader  ?  I  am  your  king !  follow  me  !  I  myself  will 
be  my  people's  leader!"  Without  giving  them  time  to  recover  from  the 
surprise  his  coolness  and  the  majesty  of  his  air  ind  appearance  had  caused 
them,  the  king  led  the  way  into  the  neighbouring  fields,  where  he  was 
joined  by  an  armed  force  under  Sir  Robert  KnoUes.  Cautioning  Sir  Rob- 
ert and  his  other  friends  to  allow  nothing  short  of  the  most  vital  necessity 
to  urge  them  into  violence,  the  king  after  a  shore  conference,  dismissed 
this  band  as  peaceably  and  as  well  satisfied  as  he  had  the  former  one  at 
Mile  End,  and  by  means  of  giving  them  similar  charters. 

While  the  king  had  thus  skilfully  been  temporii.ing,  the  nobility  and  gen- 
try in  all  parts  of  the  country  had  been  actively  assembling  and  arming 
their  retainers ;  in  a.  few  days  Richard  was  able  to  take  the  field  at  the  head 
of  40,000  men ;  the  rioters  dared  no  longer  to  appear  openly  and  in  force ; 
and  the  charters,  which,  reasonable  as  they  now  seem,  were  not  merely 
unfit  for  the  state  of  the  country  at  that  time,  but  actually  impracticable 
of  execution,  were  formally  revoked,  not  only  upon  that  ground,  but  also 
as  having  been  extorted  while  the  king  was  under  constraint  of  men  who 
had  banded  together  to  murder  all  the  higher  ranks  and  bring  about'a  san- 
guinary and  sweeping  revolution.  It  is  scarcely  possible  to  imagine  4 
sovereign  so  young  giving  more  clear  proof  of  courage  and  ability  than 
Richard  did  on  this  sad  occasion ;  but  his  later  years  by  no  means  fulfilled 
the  bright  promise  thus  given  by  his  boyhood. 

A.  D.  1385. — Scarcely  was  peace  restored  after  this  alarming  revolt, 
when  the  attitude  of  the  Scots  rendered  it  absolutely  necessary  to  chas- 
tise and  check 'them.  Accordingly  the  king  with  a  numerous  army  en- 
tered Scotland  by  Berwick.  But  the  Scots,  who  had  a  strong  auxiliary 
body  of  French  cavalry,  had  already  secured  all  their  moveable  property 
in  the  mountains,  and,  leaving  their  houses  to  be  burned,  they  entered 


»0 


THB  TBEASUftY  OF  HISTOEY. 


England,  dispersed  themselves  in  large  marauding  parties  throughout  Cum 
berland,  Westmoreland,  and  Lancashire,  and  returned  laden  with  booty 
without  having  met  with  any  show  of  resistance. 

The  English  army  under  Richard  had  in  the  meantime  marched  unop. 
posed  to  Edinburgh,  burning  all  the  towns  and  villages  on  their  way. 
Perth,  Dundee,  ai|d  a  vast  number  of  other  places  in  the  Lowlands,  were 
treated  in  the  same  manner.  But  when  news  reached  the  army  of  the 
successful  inroad  of  the  Scots  upon  the  northern  counties  of  England,  the 
true  nature  of  Richard,  his  frivolity,  and  his  determined  preference  of 
pleasure  to  action,  only  too  clearly  appeared  ;  for  he  positively  refused  to 
make  any  attempt  at  cutti^^-  oft  >.ne  retreat  of  the  spoil-laden  enemy,  and 
immediately  led  his  arir.        nr ' . 

A.  D.  1386. — The  Frei  c.i  ?  d  aided  the  Scots  chiefly,  if  not  solely,  wi»h 
a  view  to  annoy  iho  Ei.glish;  and  Flanders  being  now  at  peace  with 
France,  a  large  fleet  and  army  assembled  in  the  Flemish  port  of  Sluys  foi 
the  invasion  of  England.  The  fleet  actually  sailed,  but  was  scarcely  out 
of  port  when  it  encountered  a  terrible  storm,  which  dispersed  it  and  de. 
stroyed  many  of  the  largest  ships.  The  English  men-of-war  attacked  and 
took  the  remainder,  and  thus,  for  the  present  at  least,  this  new  danger  was 
averted. 

But  though  this  expedition  had  completely  failed,  it  turned  the  attention 
of  the  nation,  as  well  as  the  king  and  council,  towards  those  circumstan- 
ces which  made  it  only  too  certain  that  a  similar  attempt  would  be  made 
at  no  great  distance  of  time.  The  disturbances  which  had  so  recently 
agitated  England  from  one  end  to  the  other  could  not  fail  to  act  as  an  in- 
vitation to  foreign  enemies  ;  and,  to  make  the  matter  still  worse,  the  best 
of  the  English  soldiery,  to  a  very  great  number,  were  at  this  time  in  Spain, 
supporting  the  duke  of  Lancaster  in  the  claim  he  had  long  laid  to  the 
crown  of  Castile.  Perhaps  the  alarm  which  called  attention  to  these  cir 
cumstances  mainly  served  to  avert  the  danger;  at  all  events,  it  speedily 
appeared  that  the  peace  of  England  was  in  greater  danger  from  English 
men  than  from  foreigners. 

We  have  already  had  occasion,  under  the  reign  of  Edward  II.,  to  polnl 
out  the  propensity  of  weak-minded  princes  to  the  adoption  of  favourites, 
to  whose  interests  they  delight  in  sacrificing  all  other  considerations,  in- 
cluding their  own  dignity  and  even  their  own  personal  safety.  Richard 
who  had  shown  so  much  frivolity  in  his  Scotch  expedition,  now  gave  a 
new  proof  of  his  weakness  of  mind  by  adopting  a  successor  to  the  Spen- 
sers  and  the  Gavestons  of  an  earlier  day. 

Robert  de  Vere,  earl  of  Oxford,  of  noble  birth,  agreeable  manners,  and 
great  accompl'shments,  but  extremely  dissolute  and  no  less  vain  and  am- 
bitious, made  his  company  so  agreeable  to  Richard,  that  the  young  mon- 
arch seemed  scarcely  able  to  exist  but  in  his  presence.  In  proof  of  hia 
attachment  to  him,  the  king  made  him  marquis  oi  Dublin — the  title  being 
then  first  used  in  England — created  him  by  patent  vice-king  of  Ireland  foi 
life,  and  evinced  his  preference  for  him  by  various  other  marks  of  royal 
favour. 

As  is  uniformly  the  case  with  such  favouritism,  the  favourite's  rapacity 
and  insolence  kept  full  pace  with  tlic  king's  folly  ;  the  marquis  of  Dublin 
became  the  virtual  king;  all  favours  were  obtainable  through  his  interest 
justice  itself  scarcely  obtainable  without  it;  and  the  marquis  and  his  -at- 
ellites  became  at  once  the  pla^rue  and  the  detestation  of  the  whole  nobility, 
but  more  especially  of  the  king's  uncles,  who  saw  the  influence  which 
they  ought  to  have  possessed,  and  much  that  ought  to  have  been  refused 
even  to  them,  transferred  to  a  man  of  comparative  obscurity.  The  min- 
isters, though  they,  it  is  quite  clear,  could  have  little  power  to  correct 
their  master's  peculiar  folly,  shared  the  sovereign's  disgrace,  and  th» 
who.e  kingdom  soon  rang  with  complaints  and  threatenings. 


TUA  TaSASURY  ur  HISTORY. 


The  first  rush  of  the  long-brewing  tempsst  showed  itself  in  a  fierce  attack 
upon  Michael  de  la  Pole,  earl  of  SufTolk,  the  chancellor.  Though  he  was 
originally  only  the  son  of  a  merchant,  he  had  won  a  high  and  well-deserved 
celebrity  by  his  valour  and  conduct  during  the  wars  of  the  late  kins,  and 
had  since  shown  very  splendid  civil  ability.  He  was  supposed  to  be  the 
chief  confidential  friend  of  the  king  and  of  De  Vere,  who  was  now,  from 
the  inarquisate  of  Dublin  raised  to  the  dukedom  of  Ireland ;  and  the  duke 
of  Gloucester  consequently  singled  him  out  for  persecution.  Gloucester, 
who  was  both  able  and  ambitious,  had  secured  a  most  potent  sway  over 
both  the  lords  and  commons,  and  he  now  induced  the  latter  to  impeach  the 
earl  of  Suffolk  before  the  former:  a  power  and  mode  of  proceeding  wliich 
the  commons  had  possessed  themselves  of  towards  the  close  of  the  reign 
of  Edward  III. 

The  impeachment  of  the  most  eminent  of  his  ministers  naturally  alarmed 
the  king  for  himself  and  his  favourite;  and  he  retired  to  the  royal  palace 
at  Eltham,  to  be  out  of  immediate  danger,  and  to  deliberate  upon  his  future 
course.  Rightly  judging  that  while  the  king  was  thus  comparatively 
removed  from  danger  and  annoyance  they  would  have  little  chance  of 
bringing  him  to  compliance  with  their  wishes,  the  parliament  sent  to  in- 
form him  that  unless  he  immediately  returned  they  would  dissolve  with- 
ont  making  an  attempt  at  oreparaiion  for  the  French  invasion  with  which 
the  nation  was  at  that  time  threatened.  And  lest  this  threat  should  fail 
to  compel  the  king  to  compliance,  they  called  for  the  production  of  the 
parliamentary  record  of  the  deposition  of  Edward  II.  This  hint  was  too 
intelligible  to  be  disregarded,  and  the  king  atonc«3  consented  to  return,  on 
the  sole  condition  that,  beyond  the  impeachment  already  commenced 
against  the  earl  uf  Suffolk,  no  attack  should  be  made  upon  his  ministers  *, 
a  stipulation  which,  most  probably,  he  chiefly  ma^e  with  a  view  to  the 
safety  of  the  duke  of  Ireland. 

The  charges  against  Suffolk  were  directed  ^most  wh  jlly  against  his 
pecuniary  transactions.  He  was  accused,  f  instance,  of  having  ex- 
changed a  perpetual  annuity,  wAtcA  he  hadfain^  tn^«M'/ei,  for  lands  of  equal 
value,  with  the  king ;  of  having  purchased  a  forfeited  crown  annuity  ol 
Afty  pounds  and  induced  the  King  to  recognise  it  as  being  valid ;  and  c>t 
having  obtained  a  grant  of  500/.  per  annum  to  support  his  dignity  on  his 
being  created  earl  of  Suffolk.  The  first  of  these  charges,  it  is  clsar,  could 
only  hHve  been  made  by  men  who  were  sadly  at  a  loss  for  some  weapon 
with  which  to  assail  their  enemy ;  the  second  was  ill-supported ;  and  the 
third  proceeded  with  a  very  ill-grace  from  Gloucester,  who,  though  as 
wealthy  as  Suffolk  was  poor,  was  himself  in  receipt  of  just  double  the 
amount  by  way  of  pension !  When  to  this  we  add  that,  as  to  the  first 
charge,  it  was  positively  proved  that  Suffolk  had  made  no  sort  of  purchase, 
honest  or  dishonest,  from  the  crown  during  his  enjoyment  of  office,  the 
reader  would  be  greatly  surprised  at  learning  that  he  was  convicted  and 
sentenced  to  lose  his  office — if  it  were  possible  for  the  reader  to  have  no- 
ticed the  events  of  history  even  thus  far  without  learning  that  when  pow- 
erful men  hate  deeply,  they  do  not  require  either  very  important  charges 
or  very  clear  evidence  to  induce  them  to  convict  the  party  hated. 

This  triumph  of  the  anti-favourite  party  emboldened  them  to  fly  at  a 
higher  quarry.  They  kept  the  letter  of  their  agreement  with  the  king,  and 
made  no  further  attack  upon  his  ministers ;  but  at  once  proceeded  to  strike 
at  his  own  authority  by  appointing  a  council  of  fourteen,  to  which  the 
sovenngn  authority  was  to  be  transferred  for  a  year,  the  council  in  ques- 
tion consisting,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  archbishop  of  York,  of  the 
personal  friends  and  partiz.'.ns  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester;  and  thus  Rich- 
ard II.,  whose  boyliood  had  promised  no  vigorous  and  splendid  a  reign, 
was  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-five  virtually  deposed,  and  a  mere  puppet 
Rnd  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies.    No  chance  of  present  resist* 


.V»9» 


THB  TRBASriRY  OF  HISTORY. 


ance  oflTerod  itself,  and  the  unfortunate  and  weak  kine  signed  the  commit- 
Hion  which  in  reality  uncrowntid  him,  increasing  ratlicr  than  dimiiiinhing 
the  pleasure  and  triumph  of  his  enemies  hy  an  impotent  protest  wliich  he 
made  at  the  end  of  the  session  of  parliament,  to  the  effect  that  nothing  in 
the  commission  he  had  sig^ned  was  to  be  held  to  impair  the  prerogatives 
of  the  crown. 

A.  D,  1387. — The  pampered  favourite  and  his  supporters,  as,  thov  had  so 
greatly  profited  by  the  king's  weak  misuse  of  hi"  power,  did  not  fail  to  do 
their  utmost  to  stimulate  his  anger  and  to  induce  him  to  make  some  effort 
to  recover  his  lost  authority,  in  which,  in  truth,  they  were  far  more  inter- 
ested than  he  was. 

Estranged  as  the  lords  seemed,  he  resolved  to  endeavour  to  mflu- 
ence  the  Hheriffs  to  return  a  commons'  house  calculated  for  his  purpose ; 
but  here  he  found  himself  completely  anticipated  by  the  fact  that  most  of 
the  sheriffs  and  magistrates  were  the  partizans  of  Gloucester,  and  actually 
owed  their  appointments  to  his  favour. 

Baffled  in  this  quarter,  he  now  tried  what  use  he  could  make  of  the  au- 
thority  of  the  judges.  Having  met,  at  Nottingham,  Tresilian,  chief  justice 
of  the  King's  Bench,  and  several  of  the  other  most  eminent  judges,  he  pro. 
posed  to  them  certain  queries,  to  which,  in  substance,  thty  replied,  "  that 
the  commission  was  derogatory  to  the  prerogative  and  royalty  of  the  king, 
and  that  those  who  urged  it  or  advised  the  royal  compliance  with  it  were 
punishable  with  death ;  that  those  who  compelled  him  were  guilty  of  trea- 
son  ;  that  all  who  persevered  in  maintaining  it  were  no  less  guilty  ;  that 
the  king  had  the  right  to  dissolve  the  parliament  at  his  pleasure  ;  that  the 
parliament  while  sitting  must  give  its  first  attention  to  the  business  of  the 
king ;  and  that  without  the  king's  consent  the  parliament  had  no  right  to 
impeach  his  ministers  or  judges." 

Richard  did  not  consider  when  he  took  this  step  that  even  the  fa- 
vourable opinions  of  judges,  are  only  opinions,  and  of  little  weight  when 
opposed  to  usurped  power,  armed  force,  and  an  iron  energy.  Moreover, 
he  could  scarcely  hope  to  keep  his  conference  and  the  opinions  of  the 
judges  a  secret ;  and  if  he  could  do  so  of  what  avail  could  be  the  latter  1 
And  would  not  this  step  sharpen  the  activity  of  his  enemies  by  leading 
them  to  fear  that  it  was  but  the  prelude  and  foundation  of  a  far  more  deci- 
ded stepi  It  actually  had  that  effect ;  for  as  soon  as  the  king  returned  to 
London,  Gloucester's  party  appeared  with  an  overwhelming  force  at  High- 
gate,  whence  they  sent  a  deputation  to  demand  that  those  who  had  given 
Dim  false  and  perilous  counsel  should  be  delivered  up  to  them  as  traitors 
alike  to  the  king  and  kingdom ;  i  they  speedily  followed  up  this  message 
by  appearing  armed  and  attended  in  his  presence,  and  accusing  of  having 
given  such  counsel  the  archbishop  of  York,  the  duke  of  Ireland,  the  earl 
of  Suffolk,  Sir  Robert  Tresilian,  and  Sir  Nicholas  Brembre,  as  public  ene- 
mies. This  ticcusation  the  lords  offered  to  maintain  by  duel,  and  in  token 
of  their  willingness  to  do  so  they  actually  threw  down  their  gauntlets. 

The  duke  of  Ireland,  at  the  first  appearance  of  this  new  and  urgent  dan- 
ger, retired  into  Cheshire  to  levy  troops  to  aid  the  king;  but  he  was  met 
by  Gloucester,  as  he  hastened  to  join  Richard,  and  totally  defeated.  This 
defeat  deprived  him  of  all  chance  of  being  of  use  to  his  friend  and  master, 
and  he  escaped  to  the  Low  Countries,  where  he  remained  in  exile  and 
comparative  obscurity  until  his  death,  which  occurred  not  many  years 
afterwards. 

A.  D.  1388. — Rendered  bolder  and  more  eager  than  ever  by  this  defeat 
of  the  duke  of  Ireland,  the  lords  now  entered  London  at  the  head  of  an 
army  of  40,000  men ;  and  the  king  being  entirely  in  their  power,  was 
obliged  to  summon  a  parliament  which  he  well  knew  would  be  a  mere 
passive  instrument  in  the  hands  of  his  rebellious  lords.  Before  this  packed 
and  slavish  parliament  an  accusation  was  now  made  against  the  five  per- 


THB  TEBA6URY  OF  HISTOaV. 


s  defeat 
of  an 

er,  was 
a  mere 
packed 

five  per- 


■onages  who  had  already  been  denounced  ;  and  this  accusation  was  sup* 
ported  by  five  of  the  most  powerful  men  in  England,  viz.,  thu  duke  of  Olou- 
cester,  uncle  to  the  king  whom  he  whs  endeavouring  to  ruin,  the  earl  uf 
Derby,  son  of  the  duke  t*f  Lancaster,  the  earl  of  Arundel,  the  earl  of  War- 
wick, and  the  earl  of  Nottingham,  marshal  of  England. 

As  if  the  combined  and  formidable  power  of  these  great  nobles  had 
been  insufficient  to  crush  the  accused,  the  servile  parliament,  though  judg- 
es in  the  case,  actually  pledged  themselves  at  thu  oiUset  of  the  proceed- 
ings "  to  live  and  die  with  the  lords  appellant,  and  to  defend  them  against 
all  opposition  with  their  lives  and  fortunes !"  Sir  Nicholas  Urembre  was 
the  only  one  of  the  five  accused  persons  who  was  present  to  hear  thfl 
thirty-nine  charges  made  against  him  and  the  other  four  persons  accused. 
He  had  the  njockery,  and  but  the  mockery,  of  a  trial ;  the  others  being 
absent  were  not  even  noticed  in  the  way  of  evidence ;  but  that  did  not  pre- 
vent them  from  being  found  guilty  of  high  treason.  Sir  Nicholas  and 
also  Sir  Robert  Tresilian,  who  was  apprehended  after  the  trial,  were  ex- 
ecuted; and  here  it  might  have  been  supposed  that  even  these  rancorous 
lords  and  their  parliamentary  tools  would  have  halted  in  their  career  of 
chicane  and  violence  ;  but  far  other  was  their  actual  conduct.  All  the 
odier  judges  who  had  agreed  to  the  opinions  given  at  Nottingham  were 
condemned  to  death,  but  afterwards  banished  to  Ireland;  and  Lord  Beau- 
champ  of  Holt,  Sir  James  Berners,  Sir  Simon  Burley.  and  Sir  John  Salis- 
bury were  condemned,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  last-named,  executed. 

1  he  execution,  or  to  speak  more  truly,  the  murder  of  Sir  Simon  Burley, 
made  a  very  great  and  painful  sensation  even  among  the  enemies  of  the 
king ;  for  he  was  highly  and  almost  universally  popular,  both  on  account 
of  his  personal  character  and  from  his  having  from  the  earliest  infancy  of 
the  lamented  Black  Prince  been  the  constant  attendant  of  that  hero,  who, 
as  well  as  Edward  IIL,  had  concurred  in  appointing  him  governor  of  the 
present  king  during  his  youth.  But  the  gallantry  which  had  procured  him 
the  honour  of  the  garter,  and  the  imperishable  fame  of  a  laudatory  men- 
tion in  the  glowing  pages  of  Froissart,  tlie  beggarly  nature  of  the  charges 
against  him  and  the  very  insufficient  evidence  by  which  even  those  char- 
ges were  supported,  and  the  singularity  of  his  case  from  the  circumstances 
which  would  have  excused  a  far  more  implicit  devotion  to  the  king  whose 
infancy  he  had  watched,  were  all  as  nothing  when  opposed  to  the  fierce 
determination  of  his  and  his  sovereign's  implacable  enemies.  Nay  more, 
the  king's  wife,  whose  virtues  had  obtained  her  from  the  people  the  affec- 
tionate title  of  the  Good  Queen  Anne,  actually  fell  upon  her  knees  before 
Gloucester,  and  in  that  posture  for  three  hours  besought,  and  vainly  be- 
sought, the  life  of  thf  unfortunate  Burley.  The  stern  enemies  of  his 
master  had  doomed  the  faithful  knight  to  die,  and  he  was  executed  ac- 
cordingly. 

As  if  conscious  of  their  enormous  villany,  and  already  beginning  to 
dread  retribution,  the  parliament  concluded  this  memorably  evil  session 
by  an  act,  providing  for  a  general  oath  to  uphold  and  maintain  all  the  acts 
of  forfeiture  and  attainder  which  had  previously  been  passed  during  the 
session. 

A.  D.  1389. — The  violence  with  which  the  king  had  been  treated,  and 
the  degradation  to  which  he  had  been  reduced,  seemed  to  threaten  not 
only  his  never  recovering  his  authority,  but  even  his  actual  destruction. 
But,  whether  from  sheer  weariness  of  their  struggle,  from  disagreements 
among  themselves,  or  from  some  fear  of  the  interference  of  the  commons, 
now  daily  becoming  more  powerful  and  more  ready  to  use  their  power, 
the  chiefs  of  the  malcontents  were  so  little  able  or  inclined  to  oppose 
Richard,  that  he,  being  now  in  his  twenty-third  year,  ventured  to  say  in 
open  council  that  he  had  fully  arrived  at  an  age  to  gt)vern  for  himself,  and 
thai  henceforth  he  would  govern  both  the  kingdom  and  his  own  house 


934 


THE  TRKA8UEY  OP  HI8T0ET. 


hold;  and  no  one  of  all  his  lately  fierce  and  overbearing  opponents  ven- 
tured  to  gainsay  him.  The  ea^e  with  which  the  king  regained  his  au« 
thorily  can  only  be  accounted  for,  as  it  seems  to  us,  by  supposing  thai 
circumstances,  no  account  of  which  has  come  down  to  us,  rendered  the 
king's  enemies  afraid  of  opposing  him. 

From  whatever  cause,  however,  it  is  certain  that  the  king  suddenly  re- 
gained his  lost  power,  liis  first  act  was  to  remove  Fitzallan,  archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  from  the  office  of  chancellor,  and  to  replace  him  by  the 
celebrated  William  of  Wykfham,  bishop  of  Winchester.  Proceeding  in 
the  obviously  wise  policy  of  substituting  friends  for  fues  in  the  high  of- 
fices of  state,  the  king  dismissed  the  bishop  of  Hereford  from  being 
treasurer,  and  the  earl  of  Arundel  from  being  admiral.  The  earl  of  War- 
wick and  the  duke  of  Gloucester  were  removed  from  the  council ;  and 
even  this  evident  sign  of  the  king's  determination  to  deprive  his  enemies 
of  the  power  to  injure  him  called  forth  little  complaint  and  no  opposition. 

To  the  policy  of  what  he  did,  the  king  in  what  he  left  undone  added  a 
still  higher  wisdom,  which  his  former  infatuation  gave  but  little  promise 
of.  He  did  not  show  the  slightest  desire  to  recall  the  duke  of  Ireland; 
and  while  he  took  care  to  purge  the  high  offices  of  state,  he  did  not  by 
any  part  of  his  demeanour  leave  any  room  to  doubt  that  he  was  heartily 
and  completely  reconciled  to  the  still  powerful  uncles  who  had  caused 
him  80  much  misery.  Nay,  more,  as  if  determined  to  remove  all  dangei 
of  the  revival  of  past  animosities,  he  of  his  own  motion  issued  a  procla- 
mation confirming  the  parliamentary  pardon  of  all  offences,  and,  still  more 
completely  to  ingratiate  himself  wiih  the  tax-burdened  people,  he  volun- 
tarily declined  levying  some  subsidies  which  had  been  granted  to  him  by 
the  parliament. 

Partly  as  a  consequence  of  these  really  wise  and  humane  measures 
and  partly,  perhaps,  owing  to  the  return  from  Spain  of  the  duke  of  Lan- 
caster, Richard's  government  for  the  next  eight  years  went  on  so  smoothly 
and  so  prosperously,  that  not  a  single  dispute  occurred  of  consequence 
enough  to  be  related.  Lancaster,  between  whom  and  Richard  there  had 
never  been  any  quarrel — unless  we  may  interpret  the  past  conduct  of  the 
duke's  son  as  the  indication  of  one — was  powerful  enough  to  keep  his 
brothers  in  check,  and  was  at  the  same  time  of  a  more  mild  and  peace- 
loving  temper.  And,  accordingly,  the  duke  was  extremely  useful  to 
Richard,  who  in  turn  took  every  opportunity  of  favouring  and  gratifying 
nis  uncle,  to  whom  at  one  time  he  even  ceded  Guienne,  though,  from  the 
discontent  and  annoyance  expressed  by  the  Gascons,  Richard  was  shortly 
afterwards  obliged  to  revoke  his  grant.  The  king  still  more  strongly 
testified  his  preference  of  Lancaster  on  occasion  of  a  difference  which 
sprang  up  between  the  duke  and  his  two  brothers.  On  the  death  of  the 
Spanish  princess,  on  account  of  whom  Lancaster  had  entertained  such 
high  but  vain  hopes,  and  expended  so  much  time  and  money,  the  duke 
married  Catharine  Swainford,  by  whom  he  had  previously  had  children, 
and  who  was  the  daughter  of  a  private  Hainault  knight  of  no  great  wealth. 
Lancaster's  two  brothers  loudly  exclaimed  against  this  match,  which 
they,  not  wholly  without  reason,  declared  to  be  derogatory  to  the  honour 
of  the  royal  family.  But  Richard  stepped  in  to  the  support  of  his  uncle, 
and  caused  the  parliament  to  pass  an  act  legitimatizing  the  lady's  children 
born  before  marriage,  and  he  at  the  same  time  created  the  eldest  of  them 
earl  of  Somerset. 

While  these  domestic  events  were  passing,  occasional  war  had  still 
been  going  on  both  with  France  and  Scotland  ;  but  in  each  instance  the 
actual  fighting  was  both  feeble  and  unfrequent.  This  was  especially  the 
case  as  to  France ;  while  the  most  important  battle  on  the  Scottish  side 
was  that  of  Otterbourne,  in  which  the  young  Piercy,  surnamed  Harry 
Hotspur,  from  his  impetuous  temper,  was  taken  prisoner,  and  Douglai 


THB  TRKASURT  OF  HISTORY. 


335 


killed ;  but  this  really  was  lean  a  national  battle  than  a  comba    arisini; 
out  of  a  private  quarrel  and  individual  animosity. 

A.  D.  1396. — The  inaurrectiona  of  the  Irish  having  become  ao  rn^quent 
as  to  excite  some  ft>ar  for  the  safety  of  that  conauest,  the  king  went 
thither  in  person;  and  the  courage  and  conduct  he  displayed  in  reducing 
the  rebels  to  obedience  did  much  towards  rcdt^eming  his  character  in  the 
judgment  of  his  people.  A  still  farther  hope  was  raised  of  the  tranquillity 
and  respectability  of  the  remainder  of  this  reign  by  a  truce  of  twenty- 
five  yours  which  was  now  made  between  France  and  Kngland.  To  ren- 
der this  truce  the  more  solid,  Richard,  who  ere  this  had  buried  the  "Qood 
Queen  Anne,"  was  affianced  to  Isabella,  the  dauufhter  of  the  king  of 
France,  then  onl;^  seven  years  old.  It  seems  probable  that  Richard,  still 
feeling  insecure  in  the  peacefulness  of  his  uncles  and  the  barons  gen- 
erally, sought  by  this  alliance  not  only  to  strengthen  the  truce  between 
the  two  nations,  but  also  to  obtain  from  it  additional  security  against  any 
domestic  attacks  upon  hia  authority. 

But  though  he  thus  far  gave  proofs  of  judgment,  there  were  other  parts 
of  his  conduct  which  were  altogether  as  impolitic  and  degrading.  Unsta- 
ble, inconsistent,  wildly  extravagant,  and  openly  dissolute,  the  king  effec- 
tually prevented  his  popularity  frotn  becoming  confirmed.  Having  shown 
so  much  wisdom  in  refraining  from  recalling  the  duke  of  Ireland — and 
perhaps  even  that  arose  less  from  wisdom  than  from  satiety  of  his  former 
minion — he  now  selected  as  his  favourites,  to  almost  an  equally  offensive 
extent,  his  half  brothers  the  earls  of  Kent  and  Huntingdci,  to  whom  he 
so  completely  committed  the  patronage  of  the  kinirdoni  as  to  render  him- 
self, in  that  respect  at  least,  little  more  than  their  mere  tool.  This,  with 
his  indolence,  excessive  extravagance,  indulgence  at  the  table,  and  othet 
dissolute  pleasures,  not  only  prevented  his  growing  popularity  from  evei 
being  confirmed,  but  even  caused  a  revival  of  the  former  complaints  and 
animosities. 

A.  n.  1397. — What  rendered  this  impolitic  conduct  the  more  surely  and 
entirely  destructive  to  Richard,  was  the  profoundly  artful  manner  in  which 
his  chief  and  most  implacable  enemy,  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  availed  him- 
self of  it.  Instead  of  endeavouring  to  vie  with  Richard's  favourites  and 
to  invite  a  share  of  his  partiality,  the  duke  almost  retired  from  the  sourt ; 
appearing  there  only  on  the  public  occasions  which  would  have  caused 
his  absence  to  have  been  ill  remarked  on,  and  devoting  all  the  rest  of  his 
time  to  cultivating  the  popular  favour  by  every  art  of  which  he  was  mas- 
ter. When  obliged  to  offer  his  opinion  in  council,  he  took  care  to  give 
the  most  powerful  reasons  he  could  command  for  his  opposition  to  the 
measures  of  the  king.  As  the  truce  and  alliance  which  Richard  had  con- 
cluded with  France  were  almost  universally  unpopular,  Gloucester,  to  all 
orders  of  men  who  had  approach  to  him,  affected  the  utmost  personal  sor- 
row and  patriotic  indignation  that  Richard  had  so  completely  and  shame- 
fully degenerated  from  the  high  anti-Gallican  spirit  of  his  renowned  "and 
warlike  grandfather,  who  looked  upon  the  French  as  the  natural  foes  of 
England,  and  upon  France  as  the  treasure-house  of  England's  high-born 
chivalry  and  lusty  yeomen.  To  fall  in  with  the  interested  opinions  of 
men  is  the  surest  possible  way  to  obtain  their  favour ;  and  the  more  un- 
popular Richard  became,  the  more  openly  and  earnestly  did  the  people, 
and  more  especially  the  military,  declare  that  the  duke  of  Gloucester's 
patriotism  was  the  real  cause  of  his  want  of  favour  at  court ;  and  that  his 
wisdom  and  counsel  alone  could  ever  restore  the  honour  and  prosperity 
of  the  nation  whose  true  interests  he  so  well  understood  and  so  disinter* 
tstedly  advocated. 

That  Gloucester  for  a  long  lime  had  harboured  the  most  treasonable 
designs  against  Richard  is  quite  certain  from  even  his  own  confession 
and  Richard,  urged  by  the  advice  not  only  of  hia  favourites,  but  also  bv 


986 


TUK  THKA8UUY  OV  UIHTORY. 


the  kinj;  of  Pnincn,  •iKldenly  caused  Oloueuitcr  to  be  arrcatmJ  and  con 
vcyed  to  ('iiliiJH,  whilt!  (It  the  nainu  liiii«  Kim  friviida  tlio  earls  or  Aruiulei 
and  Warwick  wcic  niiized  and  thrown  into  prinon.  Ah  botli  the  diikeM  of 
Lanc!ant(>r  and  Vurk  and  tht'ir  cldcHt  roiih  approved  u(  and  supported  Dm 
kihK's  suddenly  adopted  course,  the  friendN  of  the  impriHoned  noblea  saw 
that  resistance  would  only  serve  to  involve  themselvcH  in  ruin.  Tlio 
king,  too,  by  intluencing  tiiu  sherifTs,  caused  a  parliament  to  be  assein. 
bled,  which  was  so  completely  subservient  to  his  wishes,  that  it  not  only 
unnulled  the  commission  which  had  so  extensively  trenched  upon  the 
royal  authority,  and  declared  it  hii{h  treason  to  attempt  the  renewal  of  y 
like  conimiHsion,  but  even  went  so  far  as  to  revoke  the  general  pardon 
that  Richard  bad  voluntarily  confirmed  aTtftr  he  regained  his  authority,  and 
to  revoke  it,  ii,  the  face  of  that  fact,  upon  the  ground  of  its  having  bcei. 
tstorttd  by  force  and  never  freely  ratified  by  the  king! 

The  duke  of  Gloucester,  the  carls  of  Arundel  and  Warwick,  and  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury  were  now  impeached  by  the  commons.  Arun- 
del was  executed,  Warwick  banished  for  life  to  the  Isle  of  Man,  and  the 
archbishop  was  deprived  of  his  temporalities  and  banished  the  kingdom. 
That  they  all  really  were  cogn'  'int  of  and  concerned  in  Gloucester's  mor« 
recent  treasonable  projects  there  can  be  no  moral  doubt ;  and  yet,  legally, 
these  moil  were  all  unjustly  condemiit'd,  for  th»!y  were  condemned  not 
for  any  recent  treason,  but  for  that  old  rebellion  which  the  king  had  pur 
doned  voluntarily  and  while  under  no  restraint.  The  chief  partizans  of 
Gloucester  being  thus  disposed  of,  the  governer  of  Calais  was  ordered  to 
bring  the  duke  himself  over  for  trial;  but  to  this  order  ho  returned  word 
that  the  duke  had  suddenly  died  of  n'^oplexy.  When  it  is  considered  that 
this  sudden  death  of  the  duke  happened  so  conveniently  for  releasing  the 
kin(>  from  the  unpleisant,  practical  dilemma  of  either  setting  at  liberty  a 
powerful  and  most  implacable  foe,  or  incurring  the  odium  which  could 
not  but  attach  to  the  act  of  putting  to  death  so  near  a  relation,  it  is  diffi. 
cult  to  witlihold  belief  from  the  popular  rumour  which  was  very  rife  at 
tho  time,  and  still  more  so  during  the  next  king's  reign,  that  the  duke  was, 
in  fact,  smothered  in  his  bed,  in  obedience  to  a  secret  order  of  his  king 
and  nephew. 

Ere  the  parliament  was  dismissed,  very  extensive  creations  and  pro- 
motions took  place  in  the  peerage,  of  course  among  those  who  had  been 
most  useful  and  zealous  in  aiding  the  recent  royal  severity ;  and  at  the 
very  close  of  this  busy  and  discreditable  session  the  king  gave  a  singu- 
larly striking,  though  practically  unimportant,  proof  of  his  inconsistency; 
he  exacted  an  oath  from  the  parliament  perpetually  to  maintain  the  acts 
they  had  passed — one  of  those  very  acts  being  in  direct  and  shameful  vio 
lation  of  a  precisely  similar  oath  which  had  been  subsequently  sanctioned 
by  the  king's  free  and  solemn  ratification ! 

A.  D.  1398. — When  the  parliament  met  at  Shrewsbury,  in  January,  1398, 
the  king  again  manifested  his  anxiety  for  the  security  of  the  recent  acts, 
by  causing  both  the  lords  and  commons  to  swear,  upon  the  cross  of  Can- 
terbury, that  tliey  would  maintain  them.  Still  ill  at  ease  on  this  point, 
he  shortly  afterwards  obtained  the  additional  security,  as  he  deemed  it, 
of  a  bull  from  the  pope,  ordaining  the  permanence  of  these  acts.  At  the 
same  time,  as  if  to  show  the  folly  of  swearing  to  the  perpetuation  of  ads 
the  parliament  reversed  the  attainders,  not  only  of  Tresilian  and  the  other 

{'udges.  for  the  secret  opinions  they  had  given  to  the  king  at  Nottingham, 
lut  also  of  the  Spensers,  father  and  son,  who  were  attainted  in  the  reisn 
of  Edward  II. 

Though  the  enmity  towards  Gloucester  of  the  nobles  who  had  so  zeal- 
ously aided  in  the  destruction  of  that  prince  had  united  them  in  apparently 
Midis&oluble  friendship  while  the  duke  lived,  animosities  and  heartburiiin<>s 
Boon  sprang  up  among  them  when  this  common  bond  of  union  was  re- 


THB  TEBA8URY  OF  UISTORY. 


m 


moved.  The  duke  or  Herefurd  in  hit  pUco  in  parliament  solemnly  hc- 
cuied  the  duke  uf  Norfolk  of  having  Blaiidored  (liu  king,  by  imputing  to 
hini  the  intiuition  of  destroying  some  of  ttie  liigheHt  of  the  nubilitv ;  Nor- 
folk gave  llerufonl  the  lie,  and  dtMnanded  the  trial  by  duel.  The  cnullcnge 
was  allowed  and  accepted ;  uiid  as  the  parliament  wuh  now  Huparating, 
•nd  legislative  authority  might  yet  be  rendered  necessary  by  the  result  of 
this  duel,  a  singular  and  Huniuwhiit  hazardous  expedient  was  resorted  to; 
that  of  delegating  the  full  {towers  of  the  parliament  to  a  committee  of 
twelve  lords  and  six  of  the  commons. 

The  lists  for  the  duel  were  fixed  at  Coventry,  the  king  in  person  wai 
to  witness  the  combat,  and  the  whole  chivalry  of  Kngland  was  split  into 
two  parties,  siding  with  the  respective  champions.  But  on  the  day  of 
duel  the  king  forbade  the  combat,  banishing  Norfolk  Tor  ten  years  and 
Hereford  for  life. 

The  great  inconsistency  of  Richard  makes  it  difficult  to  write  his  reign. 
By  the  act  we  have  Just  recorded  he  showed  sound  and  humane  policy; 
vet  in  the  very  next  year  we  find  him  commiitiiig  a  most  wanton  and 
despotic  wrong ;  as  though  he  would  balance  the  prudence  of  putting  aa 
end  to  one  source  of  strilo  among  his  nobles  by  taViiig  the  earliest  possi- 
,'le  opportunity  to  open  another ! 

A.  D.  1399. — The  duke  of  Lancaster  dying,  his  son  applied  to  be  put 
into  possession  of  the  estate  and  authority  of  his  father,  us  secured  by  the 
king's  own  patent.  Dut  Richard,  jealous  of  that  succession,  caused  the 
committee  to  which  the  authority  of  parliament  had  been  so  strangely  de^ 
egated,  to  authorize  him  to  revoke  that  patent,  and  to  try  and  condemn 
Lancaster's  own  attorney  for  having  done  his  duty  to  his  employer !  This 
ifioiistrous  tyranny  was  not  carried  to  the  length  of  actually  putting  the 
.ttorney  to  death,  in  pursuance  to  the  sentence,  but  that  extreme  rigour 
t.as  only  commuted  to  banishment! 

Tlie  tyranny  of  this  strange  act  was  indisputable  and  detestable ;  but 
•y  no  means  more  strange  and  unaccountable  than  its  singular  impolicy, 
it  would  have  been  impossible  to  name  a  noble  then  living  who  was  more 
.feiierally  and  universally  popular  than  Henry,  the  new  duke  of  Lancaster, 
lie  had  served  with  great  credit  against  the  Infidels  in  Lithuania;  he  was 
•losely  connected  by  blood  with  many  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  nobil- 
.ty,  and  by  friondship  with  still  more ;  and  his  own  popularity,  and  the 
oetestution  into  which  the  king  had  now  fallen,  caused  the  great  majority 
.)f  ihc  nation  not  only  to  take  an  indignant  interest  in  the  flagrant  wrong 
•lone  to  the  duke,  but  also  to  hope  that  the  vastness  of  his  wrongs  would 
induce  him  to  become  the  avenger  of  theirs. 

Notwithstanding  the  mere  irritating  and  driving  out  of  the  country  a 
.nan  who,  alike  by  birth,  popularity,  and  talents,  was  so  well  calculated 
to  wrest  from  him  his  tottering  throne,  the  infatuated  Richard  now  left 
l^ngiand,  as  though  for  the  express  purpose  of  inviting  and  facilitating 
some  attempt  likely  to  consummate  his  probable  ruin !  His  cousin,  and 
the  presumptive  heir  to  the  throne,  Roger,  earl  of  March,  having  been 
slain  in  a  skirmish  with  the  Irish  kern,  Richard  went  over  to  Ireland  in 
pers04i  to  avenge  his  deceased  relative.  The  promptitude  of  the  duke  of 
Lancaster  was  fully  equal  to  the  infatuation  of  Richard.  Einbaikinfr  at 
Nantes  with  a  retinue  only  sixty  in  number,  the  duke  landed  at  Ravenspur 
in  Yorkshire,  and  was  joined  by  the  earls  of  Northumberland  and  West- 
moreland. In  the  presence  of  these  two  potent  nobles,  and  of  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  and  that  prelate's  nephew,  the  young  earl  of  Arun- 
del, both  of  whom  had  been  his  companions  from  Nantes,  the  duke 
solemnly  made  oath  that  he  had  returned  to  the  country  with  no  other 
purpose  than  that  of  recovering  his  duchy  that  haa  been  so  tyrannically 
withheld  from  him.  Having  thus  taken  the  best  means  to  appease  the 
fears  of  the  king's  few  friends,  and  of  t'-e  numerous  lovers  of  peace  whom 
23 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORy 


the  dread  of  a  civil  war,  as  a  consequence  of  his  aiming  at  the  throne 
would  otherwise  have  rendered  hostile  to  him,  the  duke  invited  not  only 
all  his  own  friends,  but  all  in  England  who  were  true  lovers  of  justice,  to 
aid  and  uphold  him  in  this  incontestably  just  and  reasonable  design  ;  and 
his  appeal,  partly  from  personal  affection  to  him,  but  chiefly  from  general 
and  intense  detestation  of  the  absent  king,  was  so  eagerly  and  speedily 
answered,  that,  in  a  very  few  days,  he  who  had  so  lately  left  Nantes  with 
a  slender  retinue  of  only  sixty  persons  was  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  as 
many  thousands,  zealous  in  his  cause,  and  beyond  expression  anxious  to 
take  signal  vengeance  for  the  numerous  tyrannies  of  Richard. 

On  leaving  England  for  the  purpose  of  "chastising  the  Irish  rebels,  Rich 
hrd  gave  the  important  office  of  guardian  of  the  realm  to  the  duke  of 
York.  This  prince  did  not  possess  the  talents  requisite  in  the  dangerous 
crisis  which  had  now  arisen;  moreover,  he  was  too  closely  connected 
with  the  duke  of  Lancaster  to  allow  of  his  exerting  the  since;,  and  ex 
.leme  rigour  by  which  alone  the  advances  of  that  injured  but  no  less  am- 
bitious noble  could  be  kept  in  check ;  and  those  friends  of  the  king  whose 
power  and  zeal  might  have  kept  York  to  his  fidelity,  and  su|)plied  hi« 
want  of  ability,  had  accompanied  Richard  to  Ireland.  Everything,  there- 
fore, seemed  to  favour  the  duke  of  Lancaster,  should  ambition  lead  him 
to  attempt  something  beyond  the  mere  recovery  of  his  duchy. 

The  duke  of  York,  however,  did  not  at  the  outset  show  any  want  of 
will  to  defend  the  king's  rights.  He  ordered  all  the  forces  that  could  be 
collected  to  meet  him  at  St.  Alban's ;  but  after  all  exertion  had  been  made, 
he  fuund  himself  at  the  head  of  no  more  than  forty  thousand  men ;  and 
these  far  from  zealous  in  the  royal  cause.  Just  as  he  made  this  discovery 
of  his  twofold  weakness,  he  received  a  message  in  which  the  duke  of  Lan- 
caster begged  him  not  to  oppose  his  recovery  of  his  inheritance,  to  which 
he  still  with  consummate  hypocrisy  affected  to  limit  his  demands  and 
wishes.  York  confessed  that  he  could  not  think  of  opposing  his  nephew 
in  so  reasonable  and  just  a  design,  and  York's  declaration  was  received 
with  a  joy  and  applause  which  augured  but  ill  for  the  interests  of  the  ab- 
sent king.  Lancaster,  still  pretending  to  desire  only  the  recovery  of  his 
right,  now  hastened  to  Bristol,  where  some  of  the  ministers  had  taken  re- 
fuge,  and,  having  speedily  made  himself  master  of  the  pkce,  gave  the  lie 
to  all  his  professions  of  moderation  by  sending  to  instant  execution  the 
earl  of  Wiltshire,  Sir  John  Bussy,  and  Sir  Henry  Green. 

Intelligence  of  Lancaster's  proceedings  had  by  this  time  reached  Rich- 
ard, who  hastened  from  Ireland  with  an  army  of  20,000  men,  and  landed 
at  Milford  Haven.  Against  the  force  by  which  Lancaster  had  by  this 
t'me  surrounded  himself,  the  whole  of  Richard's  army  would  have  availed 
bu;  little ;  but  before  he  could  attempt  anything,  above  two-thirds  of  even 
that  dmall  army  had  deserted  him,  and  he  found  himself  compelled  to 
steal  away  from  the  faithful  remnant  of  his  force  and  take  shelter  in  the 
Isle  of  Anglesey,  whence  he  probably  intended  to  embark  for  France, 
there  to  await  some  change  of  affairs  which  might  enable  him  to  exert 
himself  with  at  least  some  hope  of  success. 

Lancaster,  as  politic  as  he  was  ambitious,  saw  at  a  glance  how  much 
mischief  and  disturbance  might  possibly  accrue  to  him  from  Richard  ob- 
taining the  support  and  sheltor  of  France  or  even  of  Ireland,  and  deter- 
mined to  possess  himself  of  the  unhappy  king's  person  previous  to  wholly 
throwing  off  the  thin  mask  he  still  wore  of  moderation  and  loyalty.  He, 
therefore,  sent  the  earl  of  Northumberland  to  Richard,  ostensibly  for  the 
purpose  of  assuring  him  of  Lancaster's  loyal  feeling  and  moderate  aim ; 
and  Northumberland,  as  instructed,  took  the  opportunity  to  seize  upon 
Richard,  whom  he  conveyed  to  Flint  castle,  where  Lancaster  anxiously 
awaited  his  precious  prize.  The  unfortunate  Richard  was  now  conveyed 
to  London,  nominally  under  the  protection,  but  really  as  the  prisoner,  of 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


339 


Lancaster,  who  throughout  the  journey  was  every  where  received  with 
the  submission  and  acclamations  that  of  right  belonged  to  his  sovereign. 
The  Londoners,  especially,  showed  unbounded  affection  to  the  duke ;  and 
some  writers  even  affirm  that  they,  by  their  recorder,  advised  Lancaster 
to  put  Richard  to  death.  However  atrocious  this  advice,  the  spirit  of  that 
age  was  such  as  by  no  means  to  make  it  impossible  that  it  was  given. 
But  Lancaster  had  deeper  thoughts,  and  had  no  intention  of  letting  his 
whole  designs  be  visible,  or  at  least  declared,  until  he  could  do  so  with 
perfect  safety  from  having  the  chief  authorities  of  the  nation  compromised 
by  his  acts.  Instead,  therefore,  of  violently  putting  an  end  to  the  captive 
king,  he  made  use  of  the  royal  name  to  sanction  his  own  measures. 
Richard,  helpless  and  a  prisoner,  was  compelled  to  summon  a  parliament; 
niid  before  this  parliament  thirty-three  articles  of  accusation  were  laid 
against  the  king.  Most  of  the  nobles  who  were  friendly  to  Richard  had 
secured  their  own  safety  by  flight ;  and  as  Lancaster  was  at  once  powerful 
and  popular,  we  may  fairly  believe  that  Richard  was  as  ill  provided  with 
friends  in  the  commons  as  in  the  lords.  But  the  bishop  of  Carlisle,  in  the 
latter  house,  nobly  redeemed  the  national  character  by  the  ability  and 
firmness  with  which  he  showed,  at  once,  the  insufficiency  of  the  charges 
made  against  Richard,  and  the  unconstitutional  and  irregular  nature  of  the 
treatment  bestowed  upon  him.  He  argued,  that  even  those  of  the  charges 
against  Richard  which  might  fairly  be  admitted  to  be  true,  wt^e  rather 
evidence  of  youth  and  want  of  jucfgment  than  of  tyranny;  and  that  the 
deposition  of  Edward  II.,  besides  that  it  was  no  otherwise  a  precedent 
than  as  it  was  a  successful  act  of  violence,  was  still  further  no  precedent 
m  this  case,  because  on  the  deposition  of  Edward  the  succession  was  kept 
inviolate,  his  son  being  placed  upon  the  throne ;  while  the  duke  of  Lan- 
caster, whom  it  was  now  proposed  to  substitute  for  Richard,  could  only 
mount  the  throne,  even  after  Richard's  deposition,  by  violating  the  rights 
of  the  children  of  his  father's  elder  brother,  Lionel,  duke  of  Clarence,  upon 
whom  the  crown  had  been  solemnly  entailed  by  the  parliament. 

The  spirited  and  just  conduct  of  the  able  prelate,  however  honourable 
to  himself,  and  however  precious  as,  pro  tanto,  rescuing  the  national  char- 
acter from  the  charge  of  being  utterly  lost  to  all  sense  of  right,  was  of  no 
service  to  the  unhappy  Richard.  The  bishop  was  heard  by  the  parliament 
as  though  he  had  given  utterance  to  something  of  incredible  folly  and  in- 
justice; the  charges  were  voted  to  be  proven  against  Richard;  and  the 
duke  of  Lancaster,  now  wholly  triumphant,  immediately  had  the  bishop  of 
Lincoln  arrested  and  sent  prisoner  to  St.  Alban's  abbey,  there  to  acquire 
a  more  subservient  understanding  of  the  principles  of  constitutional  law. 
Richard  being  in  due  form  deposed,  the  duke  of  Lancaster,  who  had  so 
recently  made  oath  that  he  sought  only  the  recovery  of  his  duchy — of 
which  it  is  beyond  all  question  that  he  had  been  most  wrongfully  deprived, 
now  came  forward,  crossed  himself  in  the  forehead  and  breast  with  much 
seeming  devotion,  and  said,  "  In  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost,  I,  Henry  of  Lancaster,  challenge  this  realm  of  England,  and 
the  crown,  and  all  the  members  and  appurtenances  also,  that  I  am  des- 
cended by  right  line  of  the  blood,  coming  from  the  good  king  Henry  the 
Third,  and  through  that  right  that  God  of  his  grace  hath  sent  me,  with 
help  of  kin  and  of  my  friends,  to  recover  it ;  the  which  realm  was  on  point 
of  being  undone  by  default  of  governance  and  undoing  of  the  good  laws.** 
The  right  to  which  the  duke  of  Lancaster  here  pretends  requires  a  few, 
and  but  a  few,  words  of  explanation.  "  There  was,"  says  Hume,  "  a  silly 
story  received  among  the  lowest  of  the  vulgar,  that  Edinond,  earl  of  Lan- 
caster, son  of  Henry  the  Third,  was  really  the  elder  brother  of  Edward; 
but  that  by  reason  of  some  deformity  in  his  person  he  had  been  postponed 
in  the  succession,  and  his  younger  brother  imposed  upon  the  nation  in  hit 
Htead,    As  the  present  duke  of  Lancaster  inherited  from  Edmond,  by  hii 


no 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


mother,  this  genealogy  made  him  the  true  heir  of  the  monarchy,  and  it .« 
therefore  insinuated  in  his  speech,  but  the  absurdity  was  too  gross  to  be 
openly  avowed  either  by  him  or  the  parliament." 

But  if  too  gross  for  formal  parliamentary  use,  it  could  scarcely  be  too 
eross  for  imposing  upon  the  changeful,  ignorant,  and  turbulent  rabble  and 
Henry  of  Lancaster  was  far  too  accomplished  a  demagogue  to  overlook 
the  usefulness  of  a  falsehood  on  account  of  its  grossness. 

The  deposition  of  Richard  rendered  it  necessary  that  the  parliament 
should  be  dissolved ;  but  in  six  days  after  that  took  place  a  new  parliament 
was  called  by  his  usurping  successor.  This  parliament  gave  a  new  proof 
of  the  absurdity  of  swearing  the  parliament  and  people  to  the  perpetuity 
of  laws;  all  the  laws  of  Richard's  former  parliament,  which  had  not  only 
been  sworn  to  but  also  confirmed  by  a  papal  bull,  being  now  abrogated  at 
one  fell  swoop !  And  to  make  the  lesson  still  more  striking  and  still  more 
disgusting,  all  the  acts  of  Gloucester's  parliament  which  had  been  so  sol- 
emnly  abrogated,  were  now  as  solemnly  confirmed !  For  accusing  Glou- 
cester, Warwick,  and  Arundel,  many  peers  had  been  promoted;  they  were 
now  on  that  account  degraded  !  The  recent  practice  had  made  appeals  in 
parliament  the  rightful  and  solemn  way  of  bringing  high  offenders  to  jus- 
tice ;  such  appeals  were  now  abolished  in  favour  of  common  law  indict- 
ments. How  could  peaceable  and  steady  conduct  be  expected  from  a  peo- 
ple whose  laws  were  thus  perpetually  subjected  to  chance  and  change,  to 
the  rise  of  this  or  to  the  fall  of  that  party  1 

Henry  of  Lancaster,  by  due  course  of  violence  and  fraud,  of  hyprocrisy 
and  of  perjury,  having  usurped  the  crown,  the  disposal  of  the  person  of 
the  late  king  naturally  became  a  question  of  some  interest ;  and  the  earl 
of  Northumberland,  who  had  acted  so  treacherous  a  part,  was  deputed  to 
ask  the  advice  of  the  peers  upon  that  point,  and  to  inform  them  that  the 
king  had  resolved  to  spare  Richard's  life.  The  peers  were  unanimously 
of  opinion  that  Richard  should  be  confined  in  some  secure  fortress,  and 
preventc  1  from  having  any  communication  with  his  friends.  Pontefraci 
castle  w;  s  accordingly  fixed  upon  as  the  deposed  king's  prison,  and  here 
he  speec.ly  died  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-four.  That  he  was  murdered 
no  historian  denies ;  but  while  some  say  that  he  was  openly  attacked  by 
assassins  who  were  admitted  to  his  apartments,  and  that  before  he  was 
dispatched  he  killed  one  of  his  assailants  and  nearly  overpowered  the  re?f .; 
others  say,  that  he  was  starved  to  death,  and  that  his  strong  constitution 
inflicted  upon  him  the  unspeakable  misery  of  living  for  a  fortnight  after 
his  inhuman  gaolers  had  ceased  to  supply  him  with  any  food ;  aad  this 
latter  account  is  more  likely  to  be  the  correct  one,  as  his  body,  when 
exposed  to  public  view,  exhibited  no  marks  of  violence  upon  it.  Wiiatever 
his  fault,  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  he  was  most  unjustly  treated  by  the 
usurper  Henry,  and  very  basely  abandoned  by  both  houses  and  parliament; 
and  his  fate  furnishes  a  new  proof  that  the  smallest  tyrannies  of  a  weak 
sovereign,  in  a  rude  and  unlettered  age,  will  provoke  the  most  sanguinary 
vengeance  at  the  bands  of  the  very  same  men  who  will  patiently  and 
basely  put  up  with  the  greatest  and  most  insulting  tyrannies  at  the  hands 
of  a  king  who  has  either  wisdom  or  courage. 

Apart  from  the  sedition  and  violence  of  which  we  have  already  given 
a  detailed  account,  the  reign  of  the  deposed  and  murdered  Richard  had 
but  one  circumstance  worthy  of  especial  remark ;  the  commencement  in 
England  of  the  reform  of  the  church.  John  Wickliffe,  a  secular  priest  of 
Oxford,  and  subsequently  rector  of  Lutterworth,  in  Leicestershire,  being; 
a  man  of  great  learning  and  piety,  and  being  unable  by  the  most  careful 
study  of  the  scriptures  to  find  any  justification  of  the  doctrine  of  the  real 
presence,  the  supremacy  of  Rome,  or  the  merit  of  vows  of  celibacy,  felt 
himself  bound  to  mak'?  public  his  opinion  on  these  points,  and  to  maintain 
"that  the  scriptures  werft  *f  e  sole  rule  of  faith;  that  the  chuich  was  de 


THE  TOBABURY  OF  HISTORY. 


341 


pendant  on  the  state  and  should  be  reformed  by  it;  that  the  clcigy  ought 
to  possess  no  estates ;  that  the  begging  friars  were  a  nuisance  and  ought 
not  to  be  supported ;  that  the  numerous  ceremonies  of  the  church  were 
hurtful  to  true  piety ;  that  oaths  were  unlawful,  that  dominion  was  found- 
ed in  grace,  that  everything  was  subject  to  fate  and  destiny,  and  that  all 
men  were  predestined  to  eternal  salvation  or  reprobation." 

It  will  be  perceived  from  this  summary  that  Wickliffe  in  some  particu- 
lars went  beyond  the  reformers  of  the  sixteenth  century ;  but  drawing 
hi!i  opinions  from  the  scriptures  and  the  writings  of  the  fathers,  he,  in  the 
main,  agrees  with  the  more  modern  reformers  who  also  sought  truth  in 
that  same  true  source.  Pope  Gregorj'  XI.  issued  a  bull  for  the  trial  of 
Wicklifle  as  to  the  soundness  of  his  opinions.  The  duke  of  Lancaster, 
who  then,  in  consequence  of  Richard's  minority,  governed  the  kingdom, 
not  only  protected  Wickliffe,  but  appeared  in  court  with  him,  and  ordered 
that  he  should  be  allowed  to  sit  while  being  examined  by  Courtenay, 
bishop  of  London,  to  whom  the  pope's  bull  was  directed.  The  populace 
at  tins  time  were  much  against  Wickliffe,  and  would  probably  have  pro- 
ceeded to  commit  actual  violence  upon  both  him  and  his  great  protector 
but  for  the  interference  of  the  bishop.  But  Wickliffe's  opinions  being, 
for  the  most  part,  true,  and  being  maintained  by  an  extremely  earnest  as 
well  as  learned  and  pious  man,  soon  made  so  much  progress,  that  the  uni- 
versity of  Oxford  neglected  to  act  upon  a  second  bull  which  the  pope 
directed  against  the  intrepid  reformer;  and  even  the  populace  learned  to 
see  so  much  soundness  in  his  arguments,  that  when  he  was  summoned 
before  a  synod  at  Lambeth,  they  broke  into  the  palace  and  so  alarmed  the 
prelates  who  were  opposed  to  him,  that  he  was  dismissed  without  censure. 
On  subsequent  occasions  he  was  troubled  '"or  his  opinions,  but  though  he 
showed  none  of  the  stern  and  headlong  courage  of  Luther  in  a  later  age, 
he  did  that  which  paved  the  way  for  it ;  being  sufficiently  tinctured  with 
that  enthusiasm  necessary  to  unmask  imposture,  he  gained  the  approba- 
tion of  honest  men ;  while  he  so  skilfully  explained  and  temporized,  tiiat  he 
lived  prosperously  and  died  in  peace  at  his  rectory,  in  the  year  1385 ;  hav- 
ing set  the  example  of  deep  and  right  thinking  upon  the  important  subjects 
of  religion,  but  leaving  it  to  a  later  generation  to  withstand  the  tyrannous 
assumptions  of  Rome  even  to  the  stake  and  the  axe,  the  torture  and  the 
maddening  gloom  of  the  dungeon.  The  impunity  of  Wickliffe  and  his 
contemporary  disciples  must  not,  however,  be  wholly  set  down  to  the  ac- 
count of  his  and  their  prudent  temporizing  and  skilful  explanation.  These, 
indeed,  under  all  the  circumstances  greatly  served  them,  but  would  have 
utterly  failed  to  do  so  but  that  as  yet  there  was  no  law  by  which  the  se- 
cular arm  could  be  made  to  punish  the  heterodox  ;  and  Rome,  partly  from 
her  own  schisms  and  partly  from  the  state  of  England,  was  just  at  this 
time  in  no  condition  to  take  those  sweeping  and  stern  measures  which 
either  in  an  earlier  or  later  age,  with  the  greater  favour  of  the  civil  ruler, 
she  would  have  proved  herself  abundantly  willing  to  take.  That  the  power 
and  opportunity,  rather  than  the  will,  were  wanting  on  the  part  of  Rome 
to  suppress  the  Lollards — as  Wickliffe's  disciples  were  called — rests  not 
merely  upon  speculation.  Proof  of  that  fact  is  afforded  by  an  act  which 
about  four  years  before  the  death  of  Wickliffe  the  clergy  surreptitiously 
got  enrolled,  though  it  never  had  the  consent  of  the  commons,  by  which 
act  all  sheriffs  were  bound  to  appreliend  all  preachers  of  heresy  and  their 
abettors.  The  fraud  was  discovered  and  complained  of  in  the  commons 
during  the  next  session  ;  and  the  clergy  were  thus  deterred  from  making 
immediate  use  of  their  new  and  ill  acquired  power,  though  they  contrived 
to  prevent  the  formal  repaal  of  the  smuggled  act. 


342 


THK  TEEABUaY  OF  HI8TOBT. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE    RGION   or   HENRY    IT. 

A.D.  1399. — However  Henry  IV.  might  gloss  over  the  matter  to  the  servile 
commons  or  to  the  profoundly  ignorant  rabble,  he  could  not  but  be  perfect- 
ly aware  that  he  had  no  hereditary  right ;  that  his  "  right,"  in  fact,  was 
merely  the  right  of  a  usurper  who  had  paved  the  way  to  the  throne  by  the 
grossest  hypocrisy.  And  he  must  have  <^instantly  been  tortured  with 
doubts  and  anxieties,  lest  the  ambition  ol  a>ome  new  usurper  should  be 
sanctioned  as  his  own  had  been,  by  what  arlfiil  demagogues  facetiously 
call  the  "  voice  of  the  people,"  or  lest  some  combination  of  the  barons 
should  pluck  the  stolen  diadem  from  his  jro\v,  to  place  it  on  that  of  the 
heir  of  the  house  of  Mortimer,  whom  parliament  had  formerly  declared 
the  heir  to  the  crown.  But  Henry  could  lessen  these  cares  and  fears  by 
reflecting  that  he  had  possession,  and  that  possession  was  not  so  easily  to 
be  wrested  from  him  by  a  future  usurper,  as  it  had  teen  by  himself  from 
the  weak  and  unskilled  arm  of  Richard ;  while,  even  should  the  parlia- 
mentary decision  in  favour  of  the  true  heir  be  brought  into  play,  it  was  not 
so  difficult  or  uncommon  a  thing  to  alter  the  most  solemn  acts,  even  when 
passed  amid  oaths  and  supported  by  a  bull !  Moreover,  as  to  tlie  difficulty 
that  might  arise  from  the  true  heir,  Henry  probably  placed  his  chief  reli- 
ance here — that  heir,  then  only  seven  years  old,  and  his  younger  brother, 
were  in  Henry's  own  custody  in  the  royal  castle  of  Windsor. 

A.D.  1400. — Had  Henry  been  previously  ignorant  of  the  turbulent  char- 
acter of  his  barons,  his  very  first  parliament  had  furnished  him  with  abun- 
dant information  upon  that  score.  Scarcely  had  the  peers  assembled 
when  disputes  ran  so  hifh  among  them,  that  not  only  was  very  "  unpar- 
liamentary" language  bandied  about  among  them,  even  to  the  extent  of 
giving  each  other  the  lie  direct,  aim  as  directly  charging  each  other  with 
treason,  but  this  language  was  supported  by  the  throwing  down,  upon  the 
floor  of  the  house,  of  no  fewer  than  forty  gauntlets  in  token  of  their 
owners  readiness  to  maintain  their  words  in  mortal  combat.  For  the 
present  the  king  had  influence  enough  among  those  doughty  peers  to  pre- 
vent them  from  coming  into  actual  personal  collision.  But  he  was  not 
able  to  prevent  their  quarrel  from  still  rankling  in  their  hearts,  still  less 
was  he  able  to  overpower  the  strong  feeling  of  hatred  which  some  of 
them  cherished  against  his  own  power  and  person. 

We  spoke,  a  little  while  since,  of  the  degredation  by  Henry's  parliament 
af  certain  peers  who  had  been  raised  by  Richard's  parliament,  on  account  of 
He  part  they  took  at  the  time  of  the  rebellion  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester. 
Tnc- earls  of  Rutland,  Kent,  and  Huntingdon,  and  the  Lord  Spencer,  who 
were  thus  degraded,  respectively  from  the  titles  of  Albemarle,  Surrey, 
Exeter,  and  Gloucester,  the  three  first  being  dukedoms  and  the  fourth  an 
earldom,  now  entered  into  a  conspiracy  to  seize  the  king  at  Windsor;  and 
his  deposition,  if  not  his  death,  must  infalliby  have  followed  had  they  suc- 
ceeded in  the  first  part  of  their  design.  The  earl  of  Salisbury  and  the 
Lord  Lumley  joined  in  this  conspiracy,  and  the  measures  were  so  well 
taken  that  Henry's  ruin  would  have  been  morally  certain,  but  that  Rut- 
lanf^»  tn  ?n  compunction  or  some  less  creditable  motive,  gave  the  king 
tinady  notice  and  he  suddenly  withdrew  from  Windsor,  where  he  was 
living  comparatively  unprotected,  and  reached  London  in  private  just  as 
the  conspirators  arrived  at  Windsor  with  a  party  of  five  hundred  cavalry. 
Before  the  baffled  conspirators  could  recover  from  their  surprise  the  king 
posted  himself  at  Kingston-on-Thames,  with  cavalry  and  infantry,  chieily 
supplied  by  the  city  of  London,  to  the  number  of  twenty  thousand.  The 
conspirators  had  so  entirely  depended  upon  the  effect  of  surprising  the 


THB  TREABURY  OF  HISTORY. 


343 


King  and  makings  use  of  the  possession  of  hit  person  that  they  now  saw 
that  they  iiad  lost  all  in  losing  him,  and  they  betook  themselves  to  their 
respective  counties  to  raise  their  friends  and  dependants.  But  the  king 
had  now  all  tlie  advantage  of  being  already  in  force,  and  strong  detach- 
ments of  his  friends  pursued  the  fugitives  so  hotly  that  they  had  not  the 
chance  of  making  any  combined  resistance.  The  earls  of  Kent  and  Salis- 
bury were  seized  at  Cirencester,  in  Gloucestershire,  by  the  inhabitants  of 
that  place,  and  were  beheaded  on  the  following  day;  Spencer  and  Lumley 
were  similarly  disposed  of  by  the  men  of  Bristol;  and  the  earls  of  Hunt- 
ingdon, Sir  Thomas  Blount,  Sir  Benedict  Sely,  and  several  others  who 
were  made  prisoners  were  subsequently  put  to  death  by  Henry's  own  or- 
der. It  gives  us  a  positive  loathing  for  the  morality  of  that  age  when  we 
read  that  on  the  quartered  bodies  of  these  persons  being  brought  to  Lon- 
don, the  mangled  and  senseless  remains  were  insulted  by  the  loud  and 
disgusting  joy,  not  only  of  immense  numbers  of  the  rabble  of  the  turbu- 
lent metropolis,  but  also  by  thirty-two  mitred  abbots  and  eighteen  bishops, 
who  thus  set  an  example  which— can  we  doubt  ill — was  only  too  faith- 
fully followed  by  the  inferior  clergy.  But  the  most  disgusting  as  well  as 
the  most  horrible  part  of  this  sad  story  still  remains  to  be  told.  In  this 
truly  degrading  procession  the  earl  of  Rutland  made  a  conspicuous  figure, 
not  merely  as  being  son  and  heir  of  the  duke  of  Yori.,  as  having  aided  in  the 
murder  of  his  uncle,  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  as  having  deserted  from  Rich- 
ard to  Henry,  and  having  conspired  against  the  latter  and  betrayed  to  him 
the  wretched  men  whose  remains  were  now  being  brutally  paraded  before 
the  eyes  of  the  rabble ;  these  distinctions  were  not  enough  for  his  evil 
ambition,  and  lest  he  should  be  overlooked  in  the  bloody  procession,  he 
carried  upon  a  pole  the  ghastly  h  y-*<^  of  one  of  those  victims  whom  he  had 
first  seduced  and  conspired  with,  and  then  betrayed — and  that  victim  was 
the  Lord  Spencer,  his  own  brother-in-law !  Surely  this  man  had  succes- 
fuUy  aimed  at  the  sublimity  of  infamy  ! 

A.  D.  1401. — Politic  in  everything,  and  resolute  to  make  everything  as 
far  as  possible  subservient  to  his  safety  and  interest,  Henry,  who  in 
his  youth  and  while  as  yet  a  subject  had  been,  as  his  father  had,  ^  favour- 
er of  the  Lollards,  now  aided  in  their  oppression,  in  order  to  conciliate  the 
established  clergy.  And  to  all  the  other  evil  characteristics  of  this  reign 
is  to  be  added  that  of  the  originating  in  England  of  civil  penal  laws 
against  the  undefinable  crime  of  heresy. 

Lollardism,  appealing  to  the  simple  common  sense  of  the  multitude,  had 
by  this  time  become  very  widely  disseminated  in  England;  and  the  clergy, 
to  oppose  the  leading  argumenis  of  the  detested  heretics,  and  unpossessed 
of  the  power  to  silence  those  whom  they  could  not  confute,  loudly 
demanded  the  aid  of  the  civli  power.  Anxious  to  serve  a  vast  and  pow- 
erful body  of  men  who  in  any  great  emergency  would  be  so  well  able  to 
serve  him,  Henry  engaged  the  parliament  to  pass  a  bill,  which  provided 
that  all  relapsed  heretics  who  should  refuse  to  abjure  their  errors  of  faith 
when  summoned  before  the  bishop  and  his  comm^sioners,  should  be  de- 
livered over  to  the  civil  authorities,  who  should  puulicly  commit  them  to 
the  flames.  An  atrocious  use  of  the  king's  power ;  but  every  way  worthy 
of  the  atocious  hypocrisy  and  violence  by  which  tliat  power  had  been 
acquired. 

When  this  act  was  passed  with  all  the  due  forms,  the  '■Jsrgy  speedily 
afforded  proof  that  they  did  not  intend  to  allow  it  to  remain  a  dead  letter. 
William  Sautre,  a  clergyman  of  London,  was  condemned  as  a  relapsed 
heretic  by  the  convocation  of  Canterburjj  and  being  committed  to  the  chas- 
tisement v.f  the  civil  power,  the  king  issued  his  writ,  and  the  wretched  man 
was  burned  to  death.  Great  as  all  the  other  crimes  of  Henry  were,  they 
fall  into  comparative  insignificance  in  comparison  of  this  :  that  he  was 
ihe  first,  since  the  dark  and  cruel  superstition  of  the  Druids,  who  disgusted  and 


144 


THH  THEASURY  Or  Ri(:'>TOaY. 


horrtfied  the  inhabitants  of  England  with  the  aw/ul  sight  of  a  fellow -create  t 
ytelding  up  his  breath  amid  the  ineffable  tortures  f  the  sacrificial  flames. 

While  Henry,  conscious  of  Hie  badness  of  his  title,  was  thus  endeavour- 
ing, by  the  most  atrocious  sacrifices  to  expediency,  to  strengthen  him- 
self in  England,  he,  as  far  as  possible,  avoided  the  necessity  of  malting 
any  considevable  exertion  elsewhere.  But  even  his  jonsummate  art  could 
not  wholly  preserve  him  from  the  cares  of  war. 

The  king  of  France  had  too  many  causes  of  anxiety  in  his  own  king, 
dom  to  admit  of  his  making,  as  both  he  and  las  friends  were  anxious  to 
make,  a  descent  upon  England,  and  he  was  obi  tT^d  to  content  himself  with 
getting  his  daughter  safely  out  of  the  li.inds  of  Henry.  But  the  Gascons, 
among  whom  Richard  was  born,  and  who,  in  .spite  of  his  numerous  und 
glaring  faults,  were  passionately  attached  to  his  memc/y,  lofuseO  to 
swear  allegiance  to  his  murderer ;  and  had  the  king  of  France  been  abl;^ 
to  send  an  army  to  their  support,  they  would,  beyond  all  doubt,  iiave  maile 
an  obstinate  resistance.  But  Charles's  own  situation  rendcrir.?  ]iim  un- 
able  to  assist  them,  the  earl  of  Worcester,  at  the  head  of  an  English 
army,  found  no  di/ficulty  in  bringing  them  to  obedience  ;  and  they  were 
the  less  inclined  to  make  any  new  attempt  at  shalving  off  Henry's  yolie, 
because  he  was  in  communion  with  the  ])ope  of  Rome,  whose  zealous  par- 
tizans  they  wero  ;  while  Franco  was  in  communion  with  the  anti-p(vpe, 
then  resident  v'  Avignon. 

A  sturdier  and  more  foruiir  ibie  opponent  of  the  us'irperwas  found  near 
home.  Owain  Glendwyr,  tl  <:  vowerfnl  chieft:,in  of  Wales,  a  lineal  de- 
scendant of  the  ancient  princes  oj'  ihat  cninlry,  and  greatly  beloved  on  that 
account  as  well  as  for  his  rem:^f:ii^iie  personal  courage,  gave  deep  of- 
fence to  Henry  by  the  firm  att;tch.n.;'  t  which  iie  displayed  to  the  memory 
of  the  murdered  Richard.  Lonl  Oiay,  of  Ruthyn,  a  confidential  and  un- 
scnipulous  friend  of  Honry,  had  a  large  possession  in  the  Welsh  march- 
es ;  and  well  knowing  that  he  should  please  Henry — perhaps  even  per- 
eonally  instigated  by  him— he  forcibly  entered  Glendwyr's  territory,  and 
expelled  him  and  his  followers.  The  personal  fame  and  the  antique  de- 
scent of  Glendwyr  enivhied  him  easily  and  speedily  to  collect  a  sufficient 
force  to  oust  the  intruders,  and  Henry,  as  probably  had  been  agreed, 
sent  assistance  to  Lord  Gray,  whence  a  long  and  sanguinary  war  ensued. 

The  Welsh  chieftain  no  longer  combated  nierely  his  personal  enemy, 
but  made  'var  without  distinction  upon  all  the  English  subjects  in  his 
neighbourhdod.  and  among  them  upon  the  earl  of  Marche.  Sir  Edmund 
Mortimer,  ui'ie  of  that  nobleman,  assembled  the  family  retainers  and  en- 
deavoured to  uiake  head  against  Glendwyr,  but  was  defeated,  and  both  he 
and  the  young  earl,  who,  though  only  a  youth,  v.'ould  go  to  the  field,  were 
taken  prisoners. 

Detesting  the  family  of  Mortimer  in  all  its  branches,  Henry  not  only 
took  no  bteps  towards  obtaining  the  release  of  the  young  earl,  but  even 
refused  to  grant  the  earnest  intreatics  of  the  earl  of5forthumberland  to  be 
permitted  to  do  so,  although  the  earl  had  so  mainly  contributed  to  Henry's 
own  elevation,  and  was,  besides,  very  nearly  related  to  the  young  captive. 
But  in  point  of  ingratitude,  as  in  point  of  hypocrisy,  Henry  stopped  at  no 
half  measures ;  and  having  thus  shown  his  sense  of  the  earl's  past  service 
he  very  shortly  afterwards  made  a  new  service  the  actual  ground  of  new 
and  ever  more  directly  insulting  ingratitude. 

The  Sc  jti..  tempted  by  the  occasion  of  so  recent  and  flagrant  an  usur- 

F»ationoftht  irown,  made  incursions  into  the  northern  counties  of  Eng- 
and,  and  Henry,  attended  by  the  most  warlike  of  his  nobles,  marched 
in  such  force  to  Edinburgh,  that  the  Scots,  unable  at  that  moment  prudent- 
ly to  give  him  battle,  retired  to  the  i*iountains,  as  was  ever  their  custom 
when  they  could  not  fight,  yet  would  no'  resist.  In  this  dilemma,  with  a 
foe  which  he  could  neither  provoke  into  t:)/>  field  or  terrify  into  a  formal  t  ac 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


34a 


usur- 
Eng- 
arched 
■udeiit- 
lustom 
with  d 
lal  i.  DC 


'nsincere  submission,  Henry  issued  a  formal  and  pompous  summons  to 
Robert  III.  to  come  to  him  and  do  homage  for  his  crown,  and  marched 
home  and  disbanded  his  army. 

A.  D.  1402. — Dehvered  from  the  immediate  preseiice  of  their  enemy,  the 
S<;ots  exerted  themselves  so  well  that  Lord  Douglas  was  now  able  to  lead  an 
army  of  twelve  thousand  men,  officered  by  all  the  heads  of  the  nobility, 
,iilo  England,  where  the  usual  devastation  and  plunder  marked  their  pres- 
I  ;ce.  The  earl  of  Northumberland  and  his  gallant  son  collected  a  force 
(lid  oui  took  the  Scots  at  Holmedon,  as  they  were  returning  home  laden 
\/iih  l")of,v .  In  the  battle  which  ensued  the  Scots  were  completely  rout- 
ed, vi.;':  I.  mbers  of  them  were  slain  or  taken  prisoners,  and  among  the 
;  ter  vvuf  Lord  Douglas  himself,  the  earl  of  Fife,  son  of  the  duke  of  Al- 
bany ;^d  iiephew  of  the  king  of  Scotland,  and  the  earls  of  Angus,  Mur- 
ray, and  Orkney. 

In  that  age  the  ransom  of  prisoners  was  a  most  important  part  of  the 
profit  of  the  warrior,  whether  officer  or  private.  The  noble  who  went  to 
war  for  hi«  sovereign  not  only  ran  the  ordinary  risks  of  the  fight,  but  also, 
irtn)  :in  pf  ioner,  had  to  purchase  his  own  release,  often  at  a  sun  so  vast 
as  HI  entail  comparative  poverty  upon  his  family  for  generations.  Under 
sucii  circumstances  to  interfere  with  him  as  to  the  ransom  of  his  prison- 
eis,  '.vlipn  he  was  favoured  by  the  fortune  of  war,  was  as  scandalous  a 
Jruach  oi  faith  as  any  other  and  more  obvious  invasion  of  his  poperty ; 
and  this  breach  of  faith,  with  the  added  infamy  of  extreme  ingratitude, 
did  Henry  now  commit,  by  sending  a  peremptory  message  to  the  Percies 
not  to  ransom  their  prisoners  on  any  terms ;  the  desire  of  the  politic  ty- 
rant being  to  make  the  continued  imprisonment  of  those  noblemen  a 
means  of  procuring  advantageous  terms  from  the  kingdom  of  which  they 
were  the  pride  and  ornament. 

A.  D.  1403.— Henry  had  probably  reckoned  on  the  continued  faith  of  the 
earl  of  Northumberland,  under  any  circumstances  of  provocation,  from  the 
unprincipled  absence  of  all  scruple  which  that  nobleman  had  shown  in  aid- 
ing his  usurpation.  But  the  earl,  besides  that  he  himself  smarted  under 
tlie  mingled  insult  and  injury,  was  still  farther  prompted  to  vengeance  by 
his  son  the  younger  Percy,  better  known  as  Harry  Hotspur,  and  it  was 
determined  between  them  that  an  attempt  should  be  made  to  hurl  the  un- 
grateful usurper  from  the  throne  to  which  they  had  so  mainly  contributed 
to  raise  him.  Entering  into  a  correspondence  with  Glendwyr,  they  agreed 
(u  join  him  in  his  opposition  to  Henry,  and,  still  farther  to  strengthen 
themselves,  gave  Lord  Douglas  his  liberty,  and  engaged  that  warlike  no- 
ble to  join  them  with  all  the  Scottish  force  that  they  could  command. 
Their  own  military  retainers  and  friends  were  not  a  weak  army ;  and  so 
despotic  was  the  power  of  the  earl's  family,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  im- 
plicit and  undying  was  the  attachment  of  its  followers,  that  the  very  men 
who  had  formerly  followed  the  earl  for  the  purpose  of  placing  Henry  on 
the  throne,  now  followed  for  the  purpose  of  deposing  him. 

All  the  preparations  being  made,  the  earl's  army  was  ready  for  action 
when  it  wps  deprived  of  its  leader  by  a  sudden  illness  which  disabled 
the  arl  trom  moving.  But  young  Henry  Percy  had  the  confidence  of  his 
troops  in  a  degree  not  inferior  to  that  in  which  it  was  enjoyed  by  the  earl 
himself,  and  he  marched  towards  Shrewsbury,  where  he  was  to  be  joined 
by  Glendwyr. 

Henry,  who,  whatever  b's  crimes,  was  both  brave  and  able,  had  just  col- 
ected  a  force  with  a  view  to  repelling  or  chastising  the  Scots,  and  by  hur- 
ried marches  he  contrived  to  reach  Shrew jLury  before  Glendwyr  arrived 
to  the  support  of  Percy. 

It  was  obviously  the  king's  true  policy  'o  force  Percy  to  an  engagement 
before  his  expected  allies  could  arrive,  and  tho  fierce  and  impatient  tem- 
per of  Henry  Hotspur  admiraoly  seconded  the  king's  wish. 


346 


TUa  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Ag  if  fearful  lest  any  motive  should  induce  the  king  to  decline  the  instant 
trial  of  their  strength,  Hotspur  issued  a  manifesto,  in  which  he  urged 
every  topic  that  was  calculated  to  goad  the  king's  conscience,  or  to  wound 
lis  pride  and  lower  his  character.  In  the  words  of  Hume,  "  He  renoun- 
ced  his  allegiance,  set  him  at  defiance,  and  in  the  name  of  his  father  and 
uncle  as  well  as  in  his  own,  he  enumerated  all  the  grievances  of  which  he 
pretended  the  nation  had  reason  to  complain.  Ho  upbraided  him  with 
the  perjury  of  which  he  had  been  guilty,  when,  on  landing  at  Ravenspnr, 
he  had  sworn  upon  the  gospels,  before  the  earl  of  Northumberland,  that 
.le  had  no  other  intention  than  to  recover  the  duchy  of  Lancaster,  and  that 
he  would  ever  remain  a  faithful  subject  to  King  Richard.  He  aggravated 
his  guilt  in  first  dethroning  and  then  murdering  that  prince,  and  in  usurp- 
ing the  title  of  the  house  of  Mortimer,  to  whom,  both  by  lineal  suc- 
cession and  by  declarations  of  parliament,  the  throne,  when  vacant  by 
Richard's  demise,  did  of  right  belong.  He  complained  of  his  cruel  policy 
in  allowing  the  young  earl  of  Marche,  whom  he  ought  to  regard  as  his 
sovereign,  to  remain  a  captive  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  in  even 
refusing  to  all  his  friends  permission  to  treat  for  his  ransom.  He  charged 
him  again  wiih  perjury  in  loading  the  nation  with  heavy  taxes,  after  hav- 
ing sworn  that,  without  the  utmost  necessity,  ho  would  never  lay  any  im- 
positions u[)on  them  ;  and  he  reproached  him  with  the  arts  employed  in 
procuring  favourable  elections  into  parliament;  arts  which  he  himself  had 
before  imputed  as  a  crime  to  Richard,  and  which  he  had  made  one  chief 
reason  of  that  prince's  arraignment  and  deposition." 

The  truths  here  collected  tell  very  heavily  against  the  character  of 
Henry :  but  the  reader  must  not  omit  to  notice  that  in  most  of  the  crimes 
here  laid  to  his  charge  the  earl  of  Northumberland  had  been  his  zealous 
accomplice,  and  by  his  overgrown  power  had  mainly  enabled  him  to  do  those 
very  things  which  he  now  charged  against  him  as  crimes,  and  which  he 
so  charged  only  because  of  their  bitter  personal  feud.  So  rarely,  so  very 
rarely,  do  even  the  most  patriotic  enterprises  take  their  rise  solely  in  pa- 
triotic and  pure  feelings. 

On  the  following  morning  the  embattled  hosts  attacked  each  other,  and 
rarely  upon  English  ground  has  so  sanguinary  an  action  taken  place. 
Douglas  and  young  Percy,  who  had  so  often  and  so  bravely  opposed  each 
other,  now  that  they  fought  in  the  same  ranks  seemed  to  strive  to  outvie 
each  other  in  deeds  of  daring  and  self  exposure.  Henry,  on  his  side,  wfth 
whom  was  the  young  prince  of  Wales,  who  now  *'  fleshed  his  maiden 
Bword,"  proved  himself  worthy  of  the  usurped  crown  as  far  as  valour  and 
conduct  were  concerned.  Yet,  though  he  repeatedly  charged  where  the 
battle  was  the  fiercest  and  the  slaughter  the  most  terrible,  he  even  on  this 
occasion  showed  that  he  never  allowed  courage  to  leave  policy  altogether 
behind.  Feeling  sure  that  the  hostile  leaders  would  not  fail  to  direct  their 
especial  exertions  to  slaying  him  or  making  him  prisoner,  he  caused  sev- 
eral of  his  officers  to  be  dressed  and  armed  m  the  royal  guise ;  and  this 
policy  at  once  proved  the  correctness  of  his  judgment,  and,  in  all  human 
probability,  saved  his  life,  for  several  of  the  seeming  kings  paid  with  tlieir 
lives  for  their  temporary  disguise ;  the  fierce  Douglas  roaming  through  the 
field,  and  slaying  each  that  bore  the  royal  semblance  who  had  the  misfor- 
tune to  come  within  the  sweep  of  his  trenchant  and  unsparing  blade.  The 
slaughter  was  trernendous,  but  the  victory  was  on  the  side  of  the  king, 
the  troops  of  Percy  falling  into  complete  and  irremediable  disorder  through 
that  gallant,  though  too  impetuous  leader  being  slain  by  some  undistin- 
guished hand.  About  four  thousand  soldiers  perished  on  the  side  of  Per 
cy,  and  above  haK  that  number  on  the  side  of  the  king,  while,  including 
the  loss  of  both  armies,  considerably  more  than  two  thousand  nobles  and 
gentlemen  were  slain.  The  earls  of  Worcester  and  Douglas  were  taken ; 
the  latter  was  treated  with  ill  the  respect  and  kindness  due  to  a  distin- 


THE  TEEABURY  OF  HISTORY. 


S4« 


guiihed  priaoner  of  war,  but  the  former,  together  with  Sir  Richard  Vernoi. 
was  beheaded  at  Shrewsbury. 

The  earl  of  Nortliumherland,  who  by  this  time  had  recovered  from  his 
illness,  had  raised  a  small  force  and  was  advancing  to  the  aid  of  his  gallant 
son,  when  he  was  shocked  and  astounded  by  the  disastrous  tidings  from 
Shrewsbury.  Perceiviii)r  the  impossibility,  with  all  the  force  he  could  then 
command,  of  at  that  time  makin>r  head  against  the  king,  he  dismissed  ill 
his  followers,  except  the  retinue  usual  to  men  of  his  rank,  proceeded  to 
York,  and  presented  himself  to  the  king,  to  whom  he  boldly  affirmed  that 
his  sole  intention  was  to  endeavour,  by  mediating  between  his  son  and 
the  king,  to  prevent  the  effusion  of  blood  which  now  unhappily  had  taken 
place.  Henry,  whose  policy  it  was  to  evade  war  by  every  means  in  hia 
power,  prciended  to  be  deceived,  and  a  formal  pardon  was  given  to  the  earl. 

A.  D.  1405. — Uut  the  carl  of  Northumberland  knew  mankind  in  general, 
and  Henry  in  particular,  far  too  well  to  suppose  that  there  was  any  reality 
in  this  very  facile  forgiveness ;  and  he  was  confirmed  in  his  own  enmity 
not  only  by  the  loss  of  his  brave  son,  but  also  by  the  conviction  that  he  had 
been  too  iniquitously  useful,  and  was  too  dangerously  powerful,  to  allow  of 
his  ever  being  safe  from  Henry,  should  circumstances  allow  o(  that  prince 
acting  upon  hia  real  feelings.  He  now  did  what,  had  he  done  it  previous  to 
the  battle  of  Shrewsbury,  would  moat  probably  have  given  him  a  complete 
and  comparatively  easy  victory  over  Henry.  The  earl  of  Nottingham, 
son  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  the  archbishop  of  York,  brother  of  ''.lat 
earl  of  Wiltshire  whom  Henry,  while  still  duke  of  Lancaster,  had  beheaded 
at  Bristol,  had  never  ceased  to  hate  Henry.  Whether  from  their  own 
backwardness  or  from  some  unaccountable  oversight  on  the  part  of  the 
Percies,  these  two  powerful  personages  had  taken  no  part  against  the  king 
at  Shrewsbury,  but  they  now  very  readily  agreed  to  join  with  Northum- 
berland in  a  new  attempt  to  dethrone  the  usurper;  but,  as  though  the  want 
of  judgment  on  the  part  of  the  foes  of  Henry  were  always  to  stand  him  in 
as  much  stead  as  even  his  own  profoundly  artful  policy,  Nottingham  and 
the  archbishop  took  up  arms  before  Northumberland  had  completed  his 
prepanilions  for  joining  them.  They  issued  a  manifesto,  in  which  they 
descanted,  tliougli  in  temperate  terms,  upon  Henry's  usurpations,  and  de- 
manded not  only  that  sundry  public  grievances  should  be  redressed,  but 
also  tlia  the  right  line  of  succession  should  be  restored.  The  earl  of 
Westmoreland,  who  commanded  the  king's  forces  in  their  neighbouii>f'r>'3, 
finding  himself  too  weak  to  allow  of  his  prudently  engaging  them,  hf.J  re- 
course to  a  stratagem  so  obvious  that  he  could  only  have  resorted  to  it  on 
the  assumption  that  he  had  to  do  with  very  simple  persons,  and  one  that 
in  proving  successful  showed  that  assumption  to  be  very  correct 

Westmoreland  desired  a  conference  with  Nottingham  and  the  archbish 
jp,  listened  with  admirable  gravity  to  all  the  complaints  they  had  to  make, 
begged  them  to  suggest  remedies,  cordially  assented  to  the  propriety  of 
all  that  they  proposed,  and  closed  the  conference,  by  undertaking  on  the 
part  of  the  king,  that  everything  should  be  arranged  to  their  entire  satis- 
faction. It  might  be  supposed  that  men  of  their  rank,  men,  too,  who  had 
entered  upon  so  perilous  an  undertaking,  would  have  had  their  suspicions 
aroused  by  tiie  very  facility  of  the  assent  to  their  terms ;  and  it  is  difficult, 
even  with  the  well-authenticated  account  before  us,  to  believe  that  so  far 
from  ihat  being  the  case,  they  actually  suspected  nothing  when  West- 
moreland proposed  that,  as  all  their  terms  had  been  agreed  to,  and  there 
was  no  longer  any  feud  between  them  and  his  royal  master,  both  armies 
should  be  disbanded,  that  the  country  might  be  relieved  from  the  very 
great  burthen  of  having  two  such  large  awd  expensive  bodies  to  support. 
But  the  carl  and  the  archbishop,  like  the  doomed  men  told  of  in  tales  of 
witchcraft,  rushed  upon  their  ruin  vitb  closed  eyes.  They  disbanded  their 
army,  and  Westmoreland  preti  h Joti  to  disband  his  ■  but  the  instant  th&t 


Ml 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


his  opponents  were  utterly  powerless,  Westmoreland's  secret  orders  can. 
ed  his  forces  together  again  as  if  by  magic,  anri  Nottingham  and  the  arch- 
bishop were  made  prJNonerH,  and  sent  to  the  king,  who  was  at  that  mo. 
ment  making  forced  marches  towards  them,  in  the  expectation  of  having 
to  oppose  them  in  the  field.  The  earl  of  Nottingham  and  the  archbishop 
were  both  condemned  and  both  executed ;  a  new  proof,  as  regards  thn 
archbishop,  of  the  very  limited  extent  to  which  Rome  could  at  this  time 
exert  its  formerly  great  power  in  EnglnnH. 

The  earl  of  Northumberland,  on  Ifarniiig  tliis  t.ew  calamity,  which  was 
chiefly  attributable  to  the  double  folly  of  his  friends  in  revolting  before  he 
could  join  them,  and  in  listening  to  deceptions  by  which  even  cliildren 
ought  not  to  have  been  impose'^  n[on,  escaped  into  Scotland,  accompanied 
by  lord  Bardolph ;  and  Kenry  revenged  himself  upon  them  by  seizing  and 
dismantling  all  their  fortresses.  This  done,  Henry  marched  against 
Glendwyr,  over  whom  the  'ifince  of  Wales  had  obtained  .-"ome  advan- 
tages; but  though  Glendw^  r  was  not  in  force  to  meet  his  enei^ies  in  the 
field,  his  mountain  fastnesses  and  the  incorruptible  fidel'ty  cf  h.s  friends 
enabled  him  to  escape  from  being  captured. 

A.  D.  1407. — The  earl  of  Northumberland  and  Lord  Bardolph,  more  in 
veterate  han  ever  against  Henry,  since  he  had  dismantled  their  castles, 
entered  thb  north  of  '"ngland  with  but  a  slender  retinue,  in  the  hope  that 
sympathy  wiii.  then;  and  hatred  of  the  king  would  cause  the  people  to 
flock  to  their  standard.  But  if  Henry's  crimes  had  made  him  hated,  his 
success  had  madf  hin  feared;  the  attempt  was  unsuccessful,  and  the 
sheriff  of  York,  S  .  Thomas  Rokeby,  having  got  together  a  force,  sud- 
denly attacked  the  outlawed  nobles,  both  of  whom  perished  in  the  battle. 
To  complete  Henry's  good  fortune  and  wholly  free  him  from  his  domestic 
enemies,  the  formidable  Glendwyr  soon  after  died. 

Fortune  served  Henrjr  in  Scotland  as  it  already  had  served  him  in  Eng- 
land. Robert  HI.,  a  mild  and  incapable  sovereign,  allowed  his  brother, 
the  duke  of  Albany,  completely  to  usurp  his  authority  ;  Albany,  tyrannical 
and  ambitious,  threw  his  elder  nephew,  David,  the  heir  apparent  to  the 
throne,  into  prison,  where  he  was  starved  to  death.  Robert's  youngest 
son,  James,  who  alone  now  stood  between  Albany  and  that  throne  for 
which  he  had  already  committed  so  awful  a  crime,  was  sent  by  his  alarm- 
ed father  for  safety  to  France ,  but  the  vessel  in  which  he  sailed  was  cap- 
tured by  the  k.iglish,  and  the  prince  was  carried  to  London.  There  was 
at  the  time  a  truce  between  England  and  Scotland,  notwithstanding  which 
Henry  would  not  part  with  his  young  prisoner ;  and  this  virtual  loss  of 
his  only  remaining  child  completely  broke  the  heart  of  the  unfortunate 
Robert,  who  shortly  afterwards  died.  Henry  .iow  had  a  most  stringent 
power  over  Albany,  who  governed  Scotland  as  regent ;  for  he  could  con- 
tinue the  duke  in  that  high  office  by  detaining  young  Jnmes,  while,  upon 
the  slightest  breach  of  peace  on  the  duke's  side,  Hiinry  could  at  once 
ruin  him  and  gain  the  friendship  of  the  Scots  by  restoring  them  their 
rightful  king. 

In  the  wars  which  occurred  among  the  French  factions  during  the  latter 
part  of  this  reign  Henry  took  but  little  part,  and  nothing  that  his  troops 
did  in  that  country  was  of  sufficient  importance  to  merit  any  detailed 
mention. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  king,  though  outwardly  thus  prosper- 
ous, enjoyed  his  usurped  dignity  without  any  drawbacks.  His  mental 
sufferings  are  described  to  have  been  tremendous ;  the  greatest  success 
could  not  fortify  his  mind  against  a  harrowing  drea^  f  future  misfortune, 
and  even  while  he  was  preparing  for  new  crimes  by  which  to  support  his 
throne,  he  was  haunted  by  remorse  for  the  old  ones  by  which  he  had 
acquired  it.  'I'his  perpetual  misery  at  length  wholly  deprived  him  of  his 
reason,  and  he  died  the  victim  of  crime  and  remorse,  a  worn  out  man, 


THR  TRKABIJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


34ft 


ivhile  yet  as  to  nge  only  in  the  very  prime  of  life,  on  th(  h  of  Miirch, 
1413,  in  the  thirteenth  yenr  of  his  rt-ign  nnd  in  the  furty>8ixth  of  his  age. 

Of  this  reign  httle  need  be  said  in  the  way  of  summary.  Ill  acquired 
as  was,  Henry's  authority,  he  showed  himself  so  able  to  wu-ld  it,  that  had 
he  been  a  legitimate  sovereign  his  roign  would  undoubtedly  have  been  oiio 
of  the  most  glorious  in  our  hwtory. 

The  parliament,  profiting  by  the  defect  of  the  king's  title,  made  con- 
siderable advances  in  authority  in  this  reign ;  but  though  Henry  was 
politic  enough  to  yield  in  matters  of  little  moment,  he  also  knew  how  to 
refuse  when  refusal  was  neressaiy  to  prevent  encroachment  from  going 
further.  Thus  on  one  occasion  he  dismissed  four  persons  from  his  house- 
hold, including  his  confessor,  at  the  demand  of  the  commons ;  while  on 
another,  ho  replied  to  the  demand  of  the  common.t  for  greater  lenity  to 
the  Lollards,  by  ordering  a  Lollard  to  be  burned  before  the  close  of  the 
>fjssion ! 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE    RKION    OF    HENRT    V. 

A.  D.  1413, — Though  the  bad  title  of  Henry  IV.,  and  the  care  with  which 
his  father's  jealous  suspiciDns  during  the  latter  years  of  his  reign  had 
caused  him  to  exclude  his  son  from  any  share  in  the  civil  government 
.seemed  to  give  the  young  prince  but  little  opportunity  of  easily  ascending 
the  throne,  he  had  the  very  great  advantage  of.  being  popular.  The 
courage  and  conduct  which  he  had  shown  in  military  affairs,  so  far  as  his 
fatherhad  allowed  him  to  act  in  them,  and  a  certain  chivalric  and  fantastic 
generosity,  had  not  only  caused  the  people  to  set  at  least  a  full  value 
upon  what  he  did  of  good,  but  also  to  excuse,  as  the  mere  "  flash  and 
outbreak  of  a  fiery  mind,"  irregularities  which  would  have  excited  their 
utmost  indignation  against  a  prince  of  a  more  sullen  and  less  generous 
temper 

Looked  upon  with  jealousy  by  his  father,  and  discouraged,  or  rather 
prevented,  from  nixing  with  ilie  statesmen  of  the  day  and  sharing  in  the 
cares  of  governi.  "^nt,  the  mevcurial  temper  of  the  young  prince  caused 
him  to  seek  pleasure  and  companionship  out  of  his  proper  sphere,  and  to 
make  himself  talked  of  ainonj^  his  future  subjects  for  many  frolics,  which 
in  any  other  person  would  have  been  treated  as  crimes  of  no  ordinary 
magnitude.  He  not  only  rioted  and  drank  with  men  of  bad  repute  and 
broken  fortune,  but  it  is  even  said  that  on  more  than  one  occasion  he 
joined  them  in  laying  the  wealthy  passenger  under  contribution  on  the 
highway.  Shakspeare,  who  in  this  as  in  many  other  cases  has  painted 
faithfully,  makes  Falstaff  exi-laim  to  this  young  prince — "  Rob  me  the 
exchequer,  Hal !"  but  the  prince,  if  historians  speak  the  tiulli,  took  the 
liberty  to  rob  the  subject  em  his  coin  could  find  its  way  to  the  exchequer. 
Such  a  course  was  but  ill  adapted  to  reconcile  the  nation  to  the  bad  title 
upon  which  Henry  V.  now  ascended  the  throne,  or  to  give  them  hope  that 
the  laws  would  be  well  administered  under  his  government.  But  as  his 
generous  and  gay  nature  had  reconciled  them  to  the  faults  of  the  youth- 
ful prince,  so  now,  young  as  he  still  was,  the  wisdom  and  propriety  of  his 
very  first  act  gave  thein  reason  to  think  hopefully  of  him  as  their  king. 

On  one  of  the  many  occasions  in  which  Prince  Henry's  turbulent  com 
panions  had  disturbed  the  public  peace,  certain  of  them  were  indicted  for 
.heir  misconduct,  and  the  Prince  Henry  attended  their  trial  in  the  court 
of  King's  Bench.  Perceiving  that  the  lord  chief-justice,  Gascoigne,  was 
not  overawed  by  the  presence  of  the  heir  apparent.  Prince  Henry  was 
guilty  of  some  interruption,  for  which  the  chief-justice  at  once  ordered 
him  to  be  taken  to  prison.    It  may  be  doubted  whether  some  of  the 


3M 


THE  TaEA8UEY  OF  HISTOaT. 


**  courage"  and  *'  iiprightncsH"  which  histuriana  ao  emphatically  nli/ibut«t 
to  the  lord  rliivf-iuHluM!,  on  account  of  thia  afTuir,  did  not  originalu  in  the 
knowledge  thiit  tliu  king  would  be  rather  pleased  than  angry  at  any  mor* 
tiflcntion  inflicted  upon  the  popular  heir  apparent.  At  all  evcnta,  how. 
over,  we  must  admit  that  (iaHcoigne  at  least  showed  that  be  did  not  cal- 
culate, an  rnuny  more  eminent  men  have  done,  the  future  consequences 
of  his  prR8cnt  performance  of  his  duty. 

On  the  accession  of  Henry  V.,  Oascoigne  waited  upon  him  with  every 
expectation  of  receiving  the  plainest  discouragement;  but  the  king,  so 
far  from  showing  himself  offended  at  the  past,  made  it  the  oHpeeial  sub* 
ject  of  his  commendation,  and  exhorted  the  chief-justice  to  continue  still 
to  administer  the  laws  faithfully  and  fearlessly,  without  reference  to  the 
riink  of  the  offender.  To  the  grave  ami  wise  ministers  who  hud  ably 
served  Ins  father  the  young  king  gave  a  like  gracious  reception;  and 
sending  for  the  former  companions  of  his  dissolute  youth,  he  made  them 
liberal  presents,  assured  them  of  his  intention  wholly  to  reform  his  way 
of  life,  and  forbade  their  ever  again  approaching  his  presence,  until  they 
should  have  f(»llowed  his  present  example,  as  they  had  participated  and 
encouraged  his  former  vice. 

Most  men  were  greatly  surprised  at  this  wise  conduct,  and  all  were 
gladdened  by  it ;  and  probably  none  were  more  completely  in  either  oi 
these  categories  than  the  ministers  who,  at  the  very  time  that  they 
imagined  they  were  earning  the  prince's  bitter  enmity  by  their  discour- 
agement of  his  youthful  levities,  were,  in  fact,  securing  both  liis  esteem 
and  his  confidence. 

Henry's  prudence  and  justice  were  not  manifested  merely  in  thus  mak- 
ing amends  for  his  own  early  follies.  Deeply  conscious  that  his  father 
had  wrongfully  acquired  that  throne  which  he  himself  had  too  much  am- 
bition tu  give  up,  he  endeavoured,  in  all  but  giving  it  up,  to  do  all  that  he 
could  towards  repairing  the  wrongs  committed  by  his  father.  He  caused 
the  memory  of  the  murdered  Richard  to  be  honoured  with  the  most 
solemn  and  splendid  obsequies  that  could  have  been  bestowed  upon  a 
potent  sovereign  newly  deceased,  and  he  set  at  liberty  the  young  earl  of 
Marche,  of  whom  his  father  had  been  so  extremely  Jealous,  and  showed 
him  every  kindness.  The  young  earl,  who  was  of  an  extremely  mild 
temper  and  who  seemed  to  have  had  no  particle  of  ambition,  appeared 
fully  sensible  of  Henry's  kindness,  and  not  only  would  never  make  any 
attempt  to  disturb  his  government,  but  showed  himself  strongly  and  sin- 
cerely attached  to  his  person.  As  if  anxious  to  leave  no  token  existing 
of  the  sad  tumults  of  the  last  reign,  Henry  also  restored  the  Percy  family 
to  their  honours  and  property  ;  and  by  this  and  numerous  other  acts  indi- 
cative of  his  determination  to  forget  all  party  distinctions,  caused  all 
[»artics  to  be  loo  much  delighted  with  his  use  of  power  to  have  either 
eisure  or  inclination  to  inquire  how  ho  became  posses  ed  of  it. 

But  party  spirit  could  not  be  wholly  eradicated  from  the  popular  heart 
even  by  the  personal  exhortations  and  example  of  the  king  himself.  The 
horrible  punishments  which  in  the  recent  reign  were  for  the  first  time  iii 
England  inflicted  upon  heretics,  thougii  it  might  have  awed  many  who 
would  otherwise  have  continued  to  be  Lollards,  far  more  certainly  made 
many  such,  who,  but  for  this  terrible  advertisement,  would  have  gone  to 
their  graves  in  igtiorance  of  the  very  existence  of  Lollurdism.  The  pub- 
lic attention  was  roused  and  fixed  by  these  brutal  executions ;  discussion 
and  inquiry  followed,  and  by  degrees  the  country  became  divided  into  two 
parties,  the  friends  of  Rome  and  the  Lollards;  and  if  the  latter  were  by 
far  inferior  to  the  former  in  number,  they  were  already  sufficiently  num- 
erous to  cause  great  annoyance  to  the  clergy  and  some  anxiety  even  to 
the  civil  power. 

By  fa  -  the  most  eminent  man  among  the  Lollards  at  this  time  was  Lord 


THE  THBAHURY  Or  HISTORY. 


381 


,« 


Coblinm,  who,  both  under  that  title  and  an  Sir  Juhn  Oldcn^iic,  had  done 
gifod  Mitrvice  to  thr  luitimi,  and  had  biMii  honoured  witli  the  noturc  nnd 
up|)rol)ation  of  both  tht;  Into  and  ihf  prcsi-nt  knig.  The  very  excidleiice 
of  his  cliarncter  and  the  extent  of  hit*  abihlu'H  made  hin  Hcctariainam  the 
m  <re  olTennivu  to  tlic  church  ;  and  as  it  was  deemed  that  the  inuruasing 
nunilici  of  the  Lollards  rcijuired  to  he  ciiecked  hy  some  especially  ntrikinff 
example,  Lord  Cobhaiii  was  selected  us  the  victim,  and  the  archbishop  lu 
Canterbury,  Arundel,  applied  to  Henry  for  permisHion  to  indict  Cobhani. 
Henry,  who  soeins  to  have  bteii  better  aware  than  tho  bigoted  areh- 
bishoji  of  the  real  etTeels  of  persceutioi)  in  matters  of  faith,  was  extremely 
uiiwillii';}  to  consent  to  si  pio^cciilion  which,  ho  judged,  would  but  too 
Hiirely  end  in  CobhamN  deatruotion  ;  and  the  archbishop  was  f.'rbiddea  to 
take  any  steps  until  Henry  hi'nsclf  should  have  cndeavonred,  by  force  of 
ariruineiit  alone,  to  lead  < 'i)l)ham  back  to  the  church  from  which  \ic  had 
departed.  Henry  acconinyly  sent  for  Lord  Cobham  to  court,  and  eu- 
dcavoured  to  convince  I  iin  of  his  error;  but  Cobham  was  fully  equal  to 
Henry  in  the  use  of  itiielloctual  weapons,  a'ld  was  not,  upon  so  important 
a  topic,  at  all  inriiiuMl  to  sacrifico  truth  to  complaisance  and  etiquette. 
Finding  it  in  vaid  to  endeavour  to  convert  this  unfortunate  nobleman, 
Henry,  w'Mi  seeningly  sincere  regret,  was  obliged  to  give  the  clergy  their 
required  perinission  to  indict  him.  The  archbishon,  assisted  by  the  bishopi 
of  London,  WincheHtcr,  and  St.  David's,  proceeded  against  him,  and  he 
was  condemned  to  be  burned.  Ho  was  sent  to  tho  Tower,  and  a  day  was 
appointed  for  his  execution,  but  before  that  day  arrived  he  managed  to 
escape  from  his  gaolers.  Naturally  of  a  fierce  and  somewhat  haughty 
spirit,  the  treatment  he  hill  received  and  the  danger  from  whi(!h  he  had 
BO  narrowly  escaped  t\c  led  him  to  so  high  ;\  pitch  of  anger  and  resolu- 
tion, that  he  determined  to  dim  at  a  ijeneral  revolution  of  the  kingdom. 
And  accordingly,  from  the  obscure  lolreat  in  which  ho  found  shelter,  he 
issued  orders  to  the  Lollards  upv»n  whom  he  could  most  depend,  to  joia 
him  upon  a  certain  day,  that  they  might  in  the  first  place  seize  upon  the 
person  of  the  king,  who  wasnt  that  time  lodging  in  the  palace  of  Eltham, 
111  Kent,  and  then  take  summary  venge.iico  upon  the  chiefs  of  their  per- 
secutors. 

A.  n.  1414. — As  Cobham  was  very  highly  esteemed  among  the  Lollards, 
ami  as  they  were  not  only  very  numerous  bu'  also  included  a  great  num- 
ber of  wealthy  and  respectable  persons,  the  king,  who  was  informed  of 
what  was  in  contemplation,  deemed  it  necessary  not  only  to  guard  him- 
self against  tho  intended  surprise,  but  also  to  prepare  to  resist  open  insur- 
rection. He  accordingly  removed  to  the  palaceat  Westminster,  and  pre- 
piiifil  hi.nself  for  whatever  force  Cobham  might  be  able  to  bring.  Even 
now  Cobham  had  ample  opportunity  to  abandon  his  design,  which  became 
iiupuless  from  the  moment  it  became  known,  and  to  escape  from  the  king- 
iloiii.  But  he  seems  to  have  been  of  a  temper  which  difficulty  and  danger 
might  enrage  but  could  not  intimidate,  and  he  assembled  all  the  forces  he 
could  raise  in  the  fields  of  St.  Giles.  Being  made  acquainted  with  the 
.ippoiiited  'me  as  well  as  place  of  meeting,  the  king  caused  the  gales  of 
liic  city  to  be  closed,  to  prevent  the  discontented  from  getting  an  increase 
to  their  numbers  from  that  quarter;  he  then  went,  well  attended,  to  St. 
Giles,  and  seized  those  of  the  leaders  who  had  already  arrived,  while  the 
military,  skilfully  stationed,  arrested  all  who  were  found  hastening  to  the 
spot.  It  appeared  that,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  the  greater  number  of 
the  prisoners  knew  little  or  nothing  of  the  real  designs  of  their  leaders, 
though  of  the  criminal  and  treasonable  designs  of  the  latter  there  remained 
00  shadow  of  doubt.  Those  who  were  proved  to  have  treasonable  de- 
signs were  executed,  but  by  far  the  greater  number  were  pardoned.  He 
whom  the  c?ergy  were  the  most  anxious  to  punish,  and  who,  indeed,  was 
auw  not  mu^h  less  obnoxious  to  the  civil  than  to  the  ecclesiastical  autho 


35S 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


rlty,  the  Lord  Cobnam  himself,  was  fortunate  enough  to  escape.  But 
sentence  was  pronounced  against  him,  par  contumace,  as  a  traitor  and  a 
relapsed  and  incorrigible  heretic;  and  being  apprehended  about  four  years 
afterwards,  he  was  hanged  for  his  participation  in  treason  against  the 
king,  and  his  body  was  burned  in  pursuance  of  the  sentence  passed  against 
him  for  heresy. 

The  severity  with  which  the  leaders  in  this  crude  and  ill-planned  revolt 
were  treated,  and  the  advantage  which  the  circumstances  of  it  gave  the 
clergy,  in  being  able  to  connect  heresy  and  treason  as  offences  coupled  by 
necessity  and  naturally  springing  the  one  from  the  other,  had  a  very  sen- 
sible effect  in  checking  the  progress  of  Lollardy ;  but  not  so  much  on  ac- 
count of  the  terror  attached  to  the  punishment,  as  the  disgrace  and  con- 
tempt which  seemed  everywhere  to  attach  to  the  crime.  Very  wisely 
the  clergy  and  the  civil  authorities  appeared  at  this  time  to  treat  the  Lol- 
lards, associated  as  they  had  confessedly  been  with  the  civil  disturbances 
of  Cobham,  not  so  much  as  heretics  as  partly  heretics  and  partly  loose 
fellow?  who  were  desirous  of  causing  public  disturbance  for  the  better 
accomplishment  of  their  own  private  ends ;  a  mode  of  treating  the  case 
the  best  possible  for  making  il  intolerable  in  the  eyes  of  all  decent  people, 
and  for  depriving  such  people  of  all  curiosity  as  to  its  doctrinal  peculiar- 
ities. Happy  had  it  been  for  mankind  if  ridicule  had  ever  been  the  sub- 
stitute for  persecution !  Truth,  indeed,  would  overcome  the  former  as  it 
has  the  latter;  but  what  pangs  would  have  been  spared  to  some  of  the 
combatants — what  dark  and  undying  infamy  to  others!  Nor  was  it 
merely  among  the  unreflecting  multitude,  and  those  who,  simply  with  re- 
ference to  their  worldly  possessions,  were  unwilling  to  countenance  those 
whose  opinions  and  practices  were  likely  to  disturb  the  public  peace  and 
put  wealth  in  peril,  that  the  exploded  plot  of  Cobham  caused  a  distaste 
for  Lollardism.  The  parliament  met  just  after  the  dispersion  of  Cobhani's 
adherents,  and  one  of  its  first  acts  was  levelled  against  heretics.  This 
act  provided  that  all  persons  who  were  convicted  of  Lollardy  should  not 
only  be  capitally  punished,  as  was  provided  for  by  the  former  act,  but 
should  also  forfeit  all  their  lands  and  goods  whatever  to  the  king;  and 
that  the  chancellor,  treasurer,  the  justices  of  the  peace,  and  chief  magis- 
trates of  all  cities  and  boroughs,  should  be  sworn  to  use  their  utmost 
pains  and  diligence  in  the  extirpation  of  heresy. 

That  the  Lollards  were  feared  and  detested,  less  on  account  of  their 
religious  heresy  than  as  civil  disturbers,  appears  from  the  contrast  between 
the  act  thus  providing,  and  the  subsequent  coolness  with  which  the  SHine 
parliament,  on  the  king  demanding  a  supply,  begged  him,  instead  of  putting 
them  to  the  task  of  imposing  a  tax  upon  the  people,  to  take  possession  of 
the  ecclesiastical  revenues  and  convert  them  to  the  use  of  the  crown. 
The  renewal  of  this  proposition,  which  had  formerly  been  made  to  Henry's 
father,  threw  the  clergy  into  alarm.  To  turn  tiie  king's  attention  from  the 
proposed  wholesale  spoliation  of  the  church,  they  endeavoured  at  once  to 
supply  his  more  pressing  and  immediate  wants,  and  to  conciliate  his  per- 
sonal favour,  by  voluntarily  conferring  upon  him  the  valuable  alien  priories 
which  were  dependent  upon  chief  abbeys  in  Normandy,  and  had  been  be- 
queathed to  those  abbeys  while  England  and  Normandy  were  siill  united 
under  the  crown  of  England.  Still  further  to  turn  the  attention  of  the 
king  from  a  proposal  which  was  so ,  regnant  with  alarm  and  danger  to  the 
clergy,  Chichely,  the  then  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  endeavoured  to  en- 
gage the  king  in  a  war  with  France. 

A.  D.  1415. — In  this  design  of  the  archbishop — a  design,  be  it  parenthe- 
tically said,  which  was  much  more  politic  than  either  humane  or  Christian 
—he  was  considerably  aided  by  the  dying  injunctions  of  Henry  IV.,  who 
had  warned  his  son,  if  he  could  at  all  plausibly  engage  the  English  people 
in  war,  never  to  allow  them  to  remain  at  peace,  which  would  infalliblii 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


35* 


turn  their  inclinations  towards  domestic  dissensions.  The  kingdom  of 
France  had  now  for  a  long  time  been  plunged  in  tiie  utmost  confusion  and 
discord,  and  the  various  parlies  had  been  guilty  of  cruellies  and  outnigea, 
disgraceful  not  merely  to  themselves  but  even  to  our  coniniori  iiaiuie. 
The  stale  of  that  kingdom  was  consequently  at  this  time  such  .ib  to  iiold 
out  advantages  to  Henry,  which  were  well  calculated  lo  give  forct;  to  the 
advice  of  Chichely  and  the  dying  request  of  Henry  IV.  IJut  just  as 
Henry,  who  did  not  want  for  either  ambition  or  a  warlike  spirit,  was  pre- 
paring and  meditating  an  attack  upon  the  neighbouring  and  rival  kingdom, 
his  attention  was  for  the  moment  arrested  by  the  discovery  of  a  dangerous 
and  extensive  conspiracy  at  home. 

As  we  have  already  said,  the  young  earl  of  Marche  was  so  sensible  of 
the  kindness  shown  to  him  by  the  present  king  at  the  connnencenient  of 
his  reign,  that  he  seemed  to  have  no  desire  ever  to  give  any  disturbance 
to  his  government.  But  the  earl's  sister  was  married  to  the  earl  of  (Cam- 
bridge, second  son  to  the  deceased  duke  of  York,  and  he  thus,  not  unna- 
turally, became  anxiously  concerned  for  the  rights  and  interests  of  a 
family  with  which  he  had  himself  become  so  intimately  count'cti'ii. — 
Deeming  it  possible  to  recover  the  crown  for  that  family,  he  look  pains  to 
acquire  partizans,  and  addressed  himself,  among  otlu^rs,  to  Lord  Scrope 
of  Masham,  and  to  Sir  Thomas  Grey  of  Heaton.  VViu;liier  from  treyciiery 
or  from  want  of  sufficient  caution  on  the  part  of  the  earl  of  Cambridge, 
the  conspiracy  oecame  known  to  the  king  before  it  had  gone  beyoMii  the 
mere  preliminaries  ;  hut  the  conspirators  upon  being  seized  mule  such 
ample  disclosures  of  their  ultimate  designs,  as  both  enaliled  the  king  to 
order  their  trial,  and  fully  warranted  him  in  so  doing.  They  were  in  the 
first  instance  tried  by  a  jury  of  commoners,  and  condemned  upon  the  tes- 
timony of  the  constable  of  Southampton  castle,  who  swore  that  the  pris- 
oners had  confessed  their  guilt  to  him;  but  they  ai'terwards  pleaili'l,  and 
were  allowed  their  privilege  as  p(!ers.  But  though  Henry  liad  hitlicrto 
shown  so  much  inclination  to  moderation,  he  on  tliis  occasion  evini-  d 
no  desire  to  depart  from  the  arbitrary  practices  of  the  kings  of  thai  age. 
A  court  of  eighteen  barons  was  summoned  and  presided  oviu-  by  Uie  diiko 
of  Clarence;  before  lliis  court  the  single  tesliinoiiy  that  liad  been  given 
before  the  common  jury  was  read,  and  witiiout  further  evidence  or  nearer 
approach  to  even  the  form  of  a  trial,  these  two  prisoners,  one  of  them  a 
prince  of  the  blood,  were  condemned  to  death  without  being  In  ard  in 
their  own  defence,  cr  even  being  produced  in  court,  and  were  executed 
accordingly ! 

This  ill-digested  and  unsuccessful  attempt  of  his  brother-in-law  put  the 
young  earl  of  Marche  in  considerable  peril.  As  it  was,  nominally,  on  his 
account  that  the  war  was  to  have  been  levied  against  tiie  king,  he  was 
accused  of  having  at  least  consented  to  the  conspiracy  ;  but  the  constant 
attachment  he  had  shown  to  Henry  had  probably  gained  him  a  sln,ng 
personal  interest  with  that  nionarch,  who  freed  him  from  all  further  peril 
on  account  of  this  affair  by  giving  him  a  general  pardon  for  all  olTctices. 

As  soon  as  the  excitement  consequent  upon  this  conspiracy  had  some- 
what passed  away,  Henry  again  turned  his  attention  towards  France. 

The  duke  of  Burgundy,  who  had  been  expelled  from  FruiuM;  by  a  com- 
bination of  the  usually  jarring  powers  of  that  country,  had  br^en  in  such 
correspondence  with  Henry,  tiiat  the  latter  prince  felt  quite  secure  of  the 
duke's  aid  whenever  an  English  army  should  appear  to  claim  it;  and 
therefore,  witho-it  making  any  precise  arrangements  with  the  duke,  and 
indeed  without  r\en  coming  to  any  positive  agreement  with  him,  Henry, 
on  the  14th  of  August  in  this  year,  put  to  sea  and  lande  i  safely  in  Nor- 
mandy, with  about  twenty-four  thousand  infaniry,  chiefly  consisting  of 
firchers,  and  six  thousand  men-al-arms. 

Harfleur  had  for  its  governor  D'Estouteville,  under  whose  comman 
Voi..  I.— 23 


364 


THE  TttEA8UaY  OF  HISTORY. 


were  De  Guitri,  De  Gaucourt,  and  other  eminent  French  soldiers.  Henry 
laid  immediate  siege  to  the  place,  but  was  so  stoutly  and  successfully  re< 
sistcd,  that,  betv.  sen  the  excessive  fatigue  and  the  more  than  usual  heat 
of  the  weather,  his  men  suffered  dreadfully,  and  were  alarmingly  thinned 
by  fever  and  other  sicknesses.  But,  in  spite' of  all  losses  and  discourage* 
ments,  Henry  gallantly  persevered;  and  the  French  were  so  much  strait- 
ened,  that  they  were  obliged  to  promise  that  if  no  relief  were  afforded 
them  by  the  1 8ih  of  September,  they  would  evacuate  the  place.  No  signs 
of  relief  appearing  on  that  day,  the  English  were  admitted;  but  so  much 
was  the  army  thinned,  and  in  so  sickly  a  condition  were  the  majority  of 
the  survivors,  that  Henry,  far  from  having  any  enoouragement  to  follow 
up  this  success  by  some  new  enterprise,  was  advised  by  all  about  him  to 
turn  his  attention  to  getting  the  skeleton  of  his  army  in  safety  back  to 
England.  Even  this  was  no  easy  or  safe  matter.  On  his  first  landing  he 
had  so  little  anticipated  the  havoc  which  fatigue  and  sickness  had  made 
in  his  army,  that  he  had  incautiously  dismissed  his  transports ;  and  he 
now  lay  under  the  necessity  of  marching  by  land  to  Calais,  ere  he  could 
place  his  troops  out  of  danger,  and  that,  too,  in  the  face  of  an  army  of 
fourteen  thousand  men-at-arms  and  forty  thousand  foot,  assembled  in 
Normandy  under  the  command  of  the  constable  D'Albret.  The  French 
force  so  tremendously  outnumbering  that  of  Henry,  he  very  prudently 
offered  to  sacrifice  his  recent  conquest  of  Harfleur,  at  the  price  of  being 
allowed  to  pass  unmolested  to  Calais  ;  but  the  French,  confident  in  their 
superiority,  rejected  his  proposal.  Henry,  therefore,  in  order  equally  to 
avoid  discouragement  to  his  own  troops  and  encouragement  to  the  French, 
retreated  by  easy  marches  to  the  Somme,  where  he  hoped  to  pass  the 
ford  at  Blanquetagne,  as  Edward  had  escaped  from  Philip  de  Valois  under 
very  similar  circumstances ;  but  he  found  that  the  French  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  render  the  ford  impassable,  besides  lining  the  opposite  bank 
with  a  strong  body  of  troops,  and  he  was  obliged  to  seek  a  passage  higher 
up  the  river.  Scarcely  anything  could  exceed  the  distress  of  Henry's 
present  situation.  His  troops  were  fast  perishing  with  continual  fatigue 
and  the  prevalent  sickness ;  he  could  procure  no  provisions,  owing  to  the 
activity  of  the  French ;  and  everywhere  he  found  himself  confronted  by 
numerous  enemies,  ready  to  fall  upon  him  the  instant  he  should  cross  the 
river.  But  under  all  these  circumstances  Henry  preserved  his  courage 
and  presence  of  mind ;  and  a  ford  near  St.  Quentin  being  but  slenderly 
guarded,  he  surprised  the  enemy  there,  and  led  his  army  over  in  safety. 

Henry  now  hastened  towards  Calais,  but  in  passing  the  little  river  of 
Ternois,  at  Blangi,  he  had  the  mortification  to  perceive  the  main  body  of 
the  French  drawn  up  and  awaiting  him  in  the  extensive  plains  of  Agin- 
court.  To  reach  Calais  without  an  action  was  now  evidently  impossible, 
the  French  were  to  the  Eng;  .h  as  four  to  one,  besides  being  free  from 
sickness,  and  abundantly  supplied  with  provisions ;  in  a  word,  Henry  was 
now  in  fully  as  dangerous  a  position  as  that  of  Edward  at  Cressy,  or  the 
heroic  Black  Prince  at  Poitiers.  Situated  as  they  had  been,  he  resolved 
to  imitate  their  plan  of  battle,  and  he  awaited  the  attack  of  the  enemy  on 
a  narrow  land  closely  flanked  by  a  wood  on  either  side.  With  their  ad- 
vantage m  numbers  and  facilities  of  obtainin^^-  provisions,  the  French 
ought  clearly  to  have  remained  obstinately  on  the  defensive,  until  the 
English  should  by  absolute  famine  be  obliged  to  advance  from  their  favour- 
able position ;  a  position  which,  to  a  very  great  extent,  gave  the  advan- 
tage to  the  side  having  the  smaller  number  of  men  to  manoeuvre.  But 
their  very  superiority  in  numbers  deprived  the  French  of  all  prudence, 
and  they  pressed  forward  as  if  to  crush  the  English  by  their  mere  weight. 
The  mounted  archers  and  men-at-arms  rushed  in  crowded  ranks  upon  the 
English,  who,  defended  by  palisadoes,  and  free  from  the  crowding  which 
embarrassed  the  actions  and  distracted  the  attention  of  the  enemy,  oiled 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


SM 


;e  from 


emy  on 
leir  ad- 
''rench 
iitil  the 
favour- 
advan- 
But 
udence, 
weight, 
poll  the 
which 
y,  olieJ 


them  with  a  deadly  and  incessant  shower  of  shafts  and  bolts.  The  heavy 
land,  rendered  still  more  difficult  and  tenacious  by  recent  rain,  was  higTily 
disadvantageous  to  the  French  cavalry,  who  were  soon  still  farther  in- 
commoded in  their  movements  by  the  innumerable  dead  and  dying  men 
and  horses  with  which  the  «  i^glish  archers  strewed  the  narrow  ground 
When  the  disorder  of  the  ^.nemy  was  at  its  height,  Henry  gave  orders 
to  the  English  to  advance  with  their  pikes  and  battle-axes ;  and  the  men- 
at-arms  following  them,  the  confused  and  pent-up  multitudtt  fell  m 
crowds,  without  even  the  possibility  of  resistance.  The  panic  of  the 
enemy  speedily  led  to  a  general  rout,  with  the  sole  exception  of  the 
French  rear-guard,  which  still  maintained  itself  in  line  of  battle  upon 
the  open  plain.  This  also  was  speedily  cut  to  pieces;  and  just  as  the  ac- 
tion closed  completely  in  favour  of  the  Knglish,  an  incident  occurred 
which  caused  the  loss  of  the  French  to  be  far  more  numerous  in  killed 
than  it  otherwise  would  have  been.  A  mob  of  a  few  peasants,  led  on  by 
some  gentlemen  in  Picardy,  had  fallen  upon  the  unarmed  followers  of 
the  English  camp  with  the  design  of  seizing  upon  the  baggage  ;  and  tlie 
alarm  and  outcry  thus  caus^d  leading  Henry  to  imagine  that  his  numer- 
ous prisoners  were  dangerous,  he  hastily  gave  orders  for  them  to  be  put 
to  the  sword;  upon  which  a  terrible  slaughter  of  these  unhappy  men 
took  place  before  he  discovered  his  mistake,  and  revoked  an  order  so 
sanguinary  and  so  contrary  to  the  laws  of  war. 

In  this  short  but  most  decisive  action  the  French  lost  ten  thousand 
killed,  of  whom  eight  thousand  were  cavalry,  and  fourteen  thousand 
prisoners ;  the  former  included  the  constable  d'Albret,  the  count  of  Nev- 
ers,  the  duke  of  Brabant,  the  duke  of  Alengon,  the  duke  of  Barre,  the 
count  of  Vaudemont,  and  the  count  of  Marie  ;  while  among  the  prisoners 
were  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  the  duke  of  Orleans,  the  mareschal  Boucicaut, 
and  the  counts  d'Eu,  Vendome,  and  Richemont.  The  English  loss,  though 
considerable,  was  small  compared  to  that  of  the  enemy,  and  the  chief 
Englishman  of  note  that  was  slain  was  the  duke  of  York.  As  if  fully 
satisfied  with  his  victory,  and  intent  only  on  regaining  his  native  land, 
Henry  immediately  continued  his  march  to  Calais,  whence  he  embarked 
with  his  prisoners  for  England ;  and  he  even  granted  the  French  a  truce 
for  two  years,  without  insisting  upon  any  corresponding  concession  on 
their  part. 

A.  D.  1418. — The  intestine  disputes  of  France  still  continued  to  rage 
most  furiously;  not  only  were  the  duke  of  Burgundy  and  the  French 
court  fiercely  warring  upon  each  other,  but  continued  feuds,  scarcely  less 
violent,  and  no  less  bitter,  raged  among  the  various  members  of  the  royal 
family.  This  state  of  things  encouraged  Henry  to  make  a  new  and 
stronger  attempt  upon  France ;  and  he  landed  in  Normandy  at  the  head 
(tf  an  army  of  twenty-five  thousand  men,  without  encountering  the  slight- 
est opposition.  He  took  Falaise  ;  Evreux  and  Caen  immediately  sunc 
dered  to  him,  and  Pont  de  I'Arche  quickly  afterwards  opened  its  gates. 
Having  subdued  all  Lower  Normandy,  and  received  from  England  a  re- 
inforcement of  fifteen  thousand  men,  Henry  proceeded  to  lay  siege  to 
Rouen.  While  thus  engaged  he  was  visited  by  the  cardinal  des  Unsins, 
who  tried  to  persuade  him  to  afford  a  chance  of  peace  to  France  by  mod 
eratiiighis  pretensions.  But  Ilenr}^  bent  upon  obtaining  the  sovereignty 
of  that  kingdom,  and  well  aware  of  tlie  advantage  he  derived,  not  only 
from  his  own  strength,  but  also  from  the  dissensions  of  the  French, 
calmly  replied,  "  Do  you  not  perceive  that  God  has  led  me  as  by  the 
hand  ]  France  has  no  sovereign  ;  I  have  just  pretentions  to  that  king- 
dom ;  everything  here  is  in  the  utmost  confusion,  and  no  one  thinks  of 
resisting  me.  Can  I  have  a  more  sensible  proof  that  the  Being  who  dis- 
poses of  empires  has  determined  to  put  the  crown  of  France  upon  my 
lead  r 


V', 


356 


THE  TRBASUllY  OF  HISTOaY. 


But  while  Henry  expressed  this  confidence,  and  made  every  effort  and 
preparation  to  carry  his  designs  into  exe(;ution  by  force,  he  at  the  s,une 
time  carried  on  negotiiitions  for  a  peaceful  siHllcintiit,  on  the  one  hand 
M-ith  the  queen  and  duke  of  Burgundy— wlio  had  the  semblance,  at  least 
of  the  only  K^gal  authority  in  the  kingdom,  inasmuch  as  they  had  the 
custody  of  the  king's  person — and  with  the  dauphin,  on  the  other  hand, 
who  had  all  the  popular  favour  on  his  side,  and  was,  besides,  the  undoubt- 
ed heir  to  the  monarchy. 

It  is  unnecessary  here,  indeed  it  would  bo  out  of  place,  to  do  more  tlian 
merely  to  allude  to  the  distractions  of  which  France  was  now  and  for  a 
long  time  had  been  the  prey.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  disputes  of  the 
rival  parties  were  so  wliolly  and  intensely  selfish,  that  either  of  them,  but 
especially  the  queen's  party,  seems  to  have  considered  the  interests  of 
the  nst:  in  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  even  temporary  personal  emolu- 
ments. Taking  advantage  of  this  temper  of  the  antagonist  parties,  Henry 
offered  to  make  peace  with  them  on  the  condiiion  of  their  giving  him  the 
princess  Catharine  in  marriage,  and  with  her,  in  full  sovereignty,  Nor- 
mandy and  all  the  provinces  which  were  ceded  to  Edward  111.  by  the 
treaty  of  l>  etigni :  and  these  terms,  so  obviously  injurious  to  the  power 
of  France,  were  agreed  to. 

A.  D.  1410. — While  Henry  was  attending  to  some  minor  circumstances, 
the  adjustment  of  which  alone  -vas  waited  for  ere  the  treaty  above  de- 
scribed should  be  carried  into  effect,  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  who  had 
been  carrying  on  a  secret  negotiation  with  the  dauphin,  formed  a  treaty 
with  that  prince,  by  which  it  was  agreed  between  them  that  they  should 
divide  the  royal  authority  as  long  as  King  Charles  should  survive,  and 
that  they  should  join  their  efforts  to  expel  all  intruders  from  the  kingdom. 
An  interview  was  appointed  to  take  place  between  them ;  but  as  the  duke 
of  Burgundy  had,  by  his  own  avowal,  been  the  assassin  of  the  late  duke 
of  Orleans,  and  had  thus  by  his  own  act  sanctioned  any  treacherous  at- 
tempt that  might  be  made  upon  his  life,  and  had  at  the  same  time  given 
everyone  reason  to  refuse  to  put  any  confidence  in  his  honour,  the  most 
minute  precautions  were  taken  to  guard  against  treachery  on  either  side. 
But  all  these  precautions  were  taken  in  vain.  Several  of  the  retainers  of 
the  dauphin,  who  had  also  been  attached  to  the  late  duke  of  Orleans,  sud- 
denly attacked  Burgundy  with  their  drawn  swords,  and  despatched  him 
before  any  of  his  friends  could  interfere  to  save  him. 

This  murder  created  so  much  rage  and  confusion  in  France,  and  all 
parties,  though  from  widely  different  motives,  were  so  much  excited  by 
it,  that  all  thought  or  care  for  preserving  the  nation  from  foreign  domi- 
nation was  lost  sight  of;  the  views  of  Henry  were  thus  most  importantly 
forwarded,  through  an  accident  arising  out  of  that  very  interview  by  which 
It  was  intended  wholly  to  destroy  his  chai.ces  of  success. 

Besides  the  advantage  which  Henry  derived  from  the  new  state  of  con- 
fusion and  turmoil  into  which  France  was  thrown  by  this  event,  he  gained 
from  it  an  extremely  powerful  ally  in  the  person  of  the  new  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, who,  stipulating  only  for  vengeance  upon  the  murderers  of  his 
father,  and  the  marriage  of  his  sister  with  the  duke  of  Bedford,  agreed  to 
iend  Henry  whatever  aid  he  might  require,  without  inquiry  or  care  as  to 
the  evil  it  might  eventually  entail  upon  the  nation.  Henry  had  already 
made  immense  progress  in  arms.  Rouen,  though  most  gallantly  defended 
by  a  garrison  of  four  thousand  men,  who  were  zealously  aided  by  fifteen 
thousand  of  the  citizens,  had  at  length  been  taken,  as  had  Pontoise  and 
Gisors  with  less  difficulty ;  and  so  closely  did  he  threaten  Paris  itself, 
that  the  court  had  removed  in  alarm  lo  Troyes. 

A.  D.  1423. — When  the  negotiations  between  the  Duke  of  Burgundy 
and  Henry  had  arrived  at  this  point,  Henry,  accompanied  by  his  brothers, 
the  Duke  of  Clarence  and  Gloucester,  proceeded  to  Troyes  to  finish  tli" 


and  in  d 
with  Ch 
Kingdom 
peace  w 
scandalo 
garded  I- 
his  claiir 
by  the  dt 
his  breas 
But  inl 
in  this  ve 
little  scri] 
object  in 
A  fvw  (iaj 
ce.ss  Cafh 
ed  of  the  c 
and  the  t: 
line  of  vvh 
The  dad 
God  to  wi 
and  Henrj 
after  a  vei 
dued  with 
•vith  a  sto 
he  could  ir 
the  brave  i 
lute  state  c 
obliged  to 
and  during 
governor  o 
By  this  t 
tared  by  th 
something 
and  to  their 
parliament 
quite  inadec 
conquered  f 
with  the  sul 
archers,  anr 
reached  Pat 
the  governn 
Rut  durin 
vere  check 
heen  in  the  , 
'V had  taken 


THE  TREASURY  OK  HISTORY. 


387 


treaty,  nominally  with  Chiirles,  but  in  reality  with  the  dtike  of  Burgundy; 
for  the  unhappy  Charles  was  in  so  completely  imbecile  a  condiliiui,  that 
he  was  at  best  but  a  mere  puppet  in  the  hands  of  whoever  had  for  the 
time  the  charge  of  his  person. 

The  chief  provisions  of  this  treaty,  in  which  the  honour  and  interests 
of  the  nation  were  accounted  as  nothing,  were  as  follows  :  Henry  was  to 
marry  the  princess  Catharine;  Charles  was  to  enjoy  the  title  and  dignity 
of  king  during  his  life,  but  Henry  was  to  be  his  heir,  and  was  also  to  be 
entrusted  with  the  immediate  administration  of  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom, 
which  was  to  pass  to  his  heirs  in  connuoii  with  Kngiand,  with  which  king- 
dom it  was  to  be  united  under  him,  though  each  kingdom  should  internally 
retain  its  own  customs,  privileges,  and  usages  ;  all  ilic  French  priiires, 
peers,  communities,  and  vassals  were  to  swcuir  to  obey  Henry  as  rey^cnt, 
and  in  due  time  adhere  to  his  suc^cession  as  king;  llenry  was  to  iniito 
with  Charles  and  the  duke  of  Burgundy  in  chasing  the  dauphin  from  the 
Kingdom  ;  and  no  one  of  the  members  of  this  tripartite  league  w;is  to  make 
peace  with  him,  except  with  the  consent  of  the  other  two.  A  trea'y  more 
scandalons  to  all  parties  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine.  Even  as  re- 
garded Kngiand,  Henry  was  king  only  by  succession  to  an  usurper ;  and 
his  claim  to  France,  even  on  that  ground  alone  would  have  been  scouted 
by  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  had  patriotism  not  been  entirely  banislied  from 
his  breast  by  passion  and  personal  interest. 

But  interest,  and  interest  alone,  was  attended  to  by  the  parties  concerned 
in  this  very  singular  treaty,  which  was  drawn,  signed,  and  ratified  with  as 
little  scruple  on  the  side  of  Burgundy,  as  though  there  had  been  no  other 
object  in  view  than  the  mere  gratification  ami  aggrandizement  of  llenry. 
A  few  days  after  the  signing  of  the  treaty,  this  prince  espoused  the  prin- 
cess Catharine,  and  with  her  and  her  father  proceeded  to  Paris.  Possess- 
ed of  the  capital,  he  had  but  little  difficulty  in  procuring  from  the  parliament 
and  the  throe  estates  a  full  and  formal  ratification  of  that  treaty,  in  every 
line  of  which  their  degradation  was  visibly  written. 

The  dauphin  now  assumed  the  style  of  regentof  the  kingdom,  appealed  to 
God  to  witness  the  justice  of  his  cause,  and  prepared  to  defend  it  in  arms, 
and  Henry  proceeded  to  oppose  him.  He  first  laid  siege  to  Sens,  which 
after  a  very  slight  resistance  surrendered  to  him,  and  Montereau  was  sub- 
dued with  no  less  ease.  Henry  now  proceeded  to  Meluii,  but  here  he  met 
"vith  a  stouter  resistance,  the  governor,  Barbasan,  repelling  every  effort 
he  could  make  for  above  four  months ;  and  even  at  the  end  of  that  time 
the  brave  governor  was  only  induced  to  treat  for  surrrender  by  the  abso- 
lute state  of  famine  to  which  the  garrison  was  reduced.  Henry  was  now 
obliged  to  visit  England  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  both  men  and  money, 
and  during  his  absence  he  left  his  uncle  the  duke  of  Exeter  in  the  post  of 
governor  of  Paris. 

By  this  time  the  English,  however  much  they  were  dazzled  and  flat- 
tered by  the  talents  and  success  of  their  king,  seem  to  have  begun  to  take 
souiething  like  a  correct  view  of  the  possible  ultimate  consequence  to  them 
and  to  their  posterity,  of  the  proposed  union  of  the  two  crowns  ;  and  the 
parliament  voted  him  a  subsidy  of  only  a  fifteenth,  which  would  have  been 
quite  inadequate  to  his  necessities,  but  that  the  Frencli  territory  he  had 
conquered  served  for  the  m  .■  -^nance  of  his  troops.  Having  got  together, 
with  the  subsidy  thus  voted  to  him,  a  new  army  of  twenty-four  thousand 
archers,  and  four  thousand  cavalry,  he  embarked  at  Dover  and  safely 
reached  Paris,  where  everything  had  remained  in  perfect  tranquillity  under 
the  government  of  his  uncle. 

But  during  the  absence  of  Henry  the  English  had  received  a  very  se- 
vere check  in  Anjoti.  A  Scotch  brigade  of  seven  thousand  men  liad  long 
been  in  the  daupiiin's  service,  sent  thithe.by  the  regent  of  Scotland.  Hen- 
ry liad  taken  the  young  king  of  Scotland,  who  had  so  long  been  in  captivity, 


358 


THE  THEABURY  OF  HI8TOEY. 


to  France,  and  caused  him  to  issue  orders  for  all  Scots  to  leave  the  dau. 
phin's  service.  But  the  ejirl  of  Buchan,  who  commanded  the  Scot?,  re- 
plied, that  his  king  while  in  captivity  could  not  issue  orders— at  all  events 
could  not  expect  him  to  obey  them.  This  gallant  and  well-disciplined 
body  of  troops  now  encountered  the  English  detachment  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  duke  of  Clarence.  That  prince  was  slain  in  the  action  by  a 
Scottish  knight  named  Allan  Swinton  ;  the  earls  of  Somerset,  Huntingdon, 
and  Dorset  were  taken  prisoners,  and  the  English  were  completely  routed, 
to  the  great  joy  of  the  dauphin,  who  rewarded  the  earl  of  Buchan  with  the 
office  of  constable. 
Henry's  return,  however,  soon  damped  the  new-born  joy  of  the  dau- 

{»hin,  who  was  besieging  Chartres,  whither  Henry  marched,  and  compel- 
ed  him  to  raise  the  siege  without  a  struggle.  From  Chartres  Henry 
marched  to  Dreux,  which  also  surrendered  without  resistance,  and  then 
proceeded  to  lay  siege  to  Meaux,  the  garrison  of  which  had  greatly  an- 
noyed the  Parisians.  Here  the  English  were  resisted  with  great  skill 
and  courage  for  eight  months,  by  the  governor  Vaurus.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  the  pi  ''e  was  takefi  and  it  was  probably  in  reality  on  account  of  the 
obstinate  •i-.^iance  that  he  had  met  with,  but  professedly  for  the  cruelty 
which  Vaurus  had  undoubtedly  shown  to  his  prisoners,  Englislj  as  well  -is 
Burgund; m,  that  Henry  ordered  him  to  be  hanged  upon  tlie  same  giblipt 
npon  whi'h  lie  had  caused  so  many  brave  men  to  be  executed. 

The  captjre  of  Meaux  led  to  the  surrender  of  other  places  in  the 
ijc  v;:'i()uihood  that  until  then  had  obstinately  held  out  ;  and  the  dauphin, 
un.if'fl  to  resist  the  united  power  of  the  English  and  Burgundians,  was 
driv  ri  beyond  the  Loire,  and  compelled  to  abandon  nearly  all  the  north- 
ern provM  ;  while  the  son  of  whom  Henry's  queen  was  just  now  de- 
livered vaa  <.d  enthusiastically  hailed  at  Paris  as  at  London,  as  the  future 
king  of  both  nations. 

Singularly  handsome  and  vigorous  in  person,  and  having  not  yet  nearly 
reached  middle  age,  Henry  might  have  been  expected  to  have  very  many 
years  of  glory  and  triumph  yet  before  him.  But  he  was  afflicted  with  a 
fistula,  a  disease  with  which  the  rude  surgery  of  that  age  knew  not  how 
to  deal ;  and  he,  the  powerful  and  ambitious,  the  envied  and  successful, 
king  found  himself  hurrying  to  the  grave  by  the  rapid  progress  of  a  dis 
ease,  from  which  ii.  our  own  time  the  poorest  peasant  would  be  relieved 

Conscious  of  his  approaching  end,  he  gave  a  new  proof  of  "  the  ruling 
passion  strong  in  death."  Sending  for  his  brother,  the  duke  of  Bedford, 
the  earl  of  Warwick,  and  some  other  noblemen  who  stood  high  in  his 
esteem,  he  with  great  calmness  delivered  to  them  his  last  will  as  it 
affected  both  the  kingdom  and  his  family.  Professing  to  view  his  ap- 
proaching death  without  any  other  regret  than  that  which  arose  from  his 
leaving  his  great  object  incomplete,  he  assured  them  that  they  could  not 
fail  of  success  by  the  exertion  of  their  known  prudence  and  valour.  He 
appointed  Bedford  regent  of  France,  his  younger  brother,  the  duke  of  Glou- 
cester, regent  of  England,  and  to  the  earl  of  Warwick  he  committed  the 
government  and  protection  of  his  infant  »on.  He  at  the  same  time  most 
urgently  enjOined  these  friends  on  no  consideration  to  give  freedom  to 
the  French  princes  taken  at  Agincourt;  until  his  son  should  be  of  an  age  to 
^'overn  for  himself;  carefully  to  pieserve  the  friendship  .■  the  duke  o* 
Burpnndy ;  to  exert  every  .neas  to  secure  the  throne  of  i^  ranee  to  their 
infant  king;  and,  failusg  success  in  that  particular,  never  to  makepeace 
with  France  unless  on  condition  of  the  permanent  annexation  of  Norman- 
dy to  the  crown  of  England. 

Aparl  from  his  ambition,  and  the  violent  injustice  which  necessarily  re- 
sulted from  it,  this  prince  was  in  very  many  respects  deserving  of  the  high 
popularity  which  throughout  his  life  he  enjoyed  in  England,  and  which  he 
lio  less  enjoyed  in  France  subsequent  to  his  marriage  with  the  princess 


THB  T&BASURY  OF  UISTOttY. 


»9 


Catharine.  His  civil  rule  was  firm  and  productive  of  excellent  order 
without  being  harshly  severe  ;  and  in  the  unifornt  kindness  and  confidence 
which  he  bestowed  upon  the  earl  of  Marche,  who  beyond  all  question  had 
the  preferable  title  to  the  crown,  betokened  no  connnon  magnanimity. 
Henry,  who  died  in  14'J2,  aged  only  thirty-four,  left  but  one  child,  young 
Henry,  then  only  nine  months  old ;  and  the  queen  Catharine,  rather  soon- 
er after  the  death  of  her  huttband  than  was  strictly  becoming,  gave  her 
hand  in  second  marriage  to  Sir  Owen  Tudor,  a  private  gentleman,  who, 
however,  claimed  to  be  descended  from  the  ancient  Welsh  princes;  to 
him  she  bore  two  sons,  the  elder  of  whom  was  created  earl  of  Richmond, 
the  younger  earl  of  Pembroke  ;  and  the  earl  of  Riclimond  subsequently 
became  king  of  Kngland,  as  we  shall  hereafter  have  to  relate. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE    REION    OF    HENRY    VI. 

A.  D.  1422. — We  had  occasion  to  remark,  under  the  head  of  Henry  IV., 
that  the  usurpation  of  that  prince  gave  a  great  and  manifest  impetus  to  the 
power  of  the  parliament.  A  new  proof  was  now  afforded  of  the  extent 
to  which  that  power  had  increased.  Scarcely  any  attention  was  paid  to 
the  instructions  given  by  Henry  V.  on  his  death  bed ;  and  the  parliament 
proceeded  to  make  arrangements  in  accordance  rather  with  its  own  views 
than  with  those  of  the  deceased  monarch,  with  respect  to  both  the  king- 
dom and  the  young  king. 

They  altogether  set  aside,  as  to  the  former,  the  title  of  regent,  and  ap 
pointed  the  duke  of  Bedford,  and,  during  any  absence  of  his,  the  duke  of 
Gloucester,  to  act  as  protector  or  guardian  of  the  kingf'.om;  evidently 
placing  a  peculiar  value  on  this  distinction  of  terms,  though  to  all  practi- 
cal purposes  it  necessarily  was  a  mere  distinction  without  a  difference. 
They  showed,  however,  a  more  practical  judgment  in  preventing,  or, 
at  the  least,  in  anticipating,  any  undue  stretch  of  authority  on  the  part  of 
either  of  the  royal  personages,  by  appointing  a  council  whoae  advice  and 
approbation  were  necessary  to  the  legalising  of  all  important  measures. 

They  next  proceeded  to  show  an  equal  disregard  to  the  wishes  of  the 
deceased  monarch,  as  related  to  the  custody  and  government  of  his  infant 
son,  when  they  committed  him  to  the  care  of  Henry  Beaufort,  bisliop  of 
Winchester,  a  natural  but  legitimate  son  of  John  of  Guant,  duke  of  Lan- 
caster ;  an  arrangement  which  at  least  had  this  recommendation,  that  the 
prelate  in  question  could  set  up  no  family  pretension  to  the  crown,  and 
had,  therefore,  no  inducement  to  act  unfairly  by  his  infant  charge. 

The  duke  of  Bedford,  long  renowned  for  equal  prudence  and  valour, 
immediately  turned  his  attention  to  France,  without  making  the  slightest 
attempt  to  alter  the  determination  of  parliament,  which  a  less  disinterest- 
ed and  noble-spirited  man  would  very  probably  have  interpreted  as  a  per- 
sonal affront. 

Charles,  the  late  dauphin,  had  now  assumed,  as  he  was  justly  entitled 
to,  the  title  of  king  of  France;  and,  being  shut  out  by  the  English 
from  Rheims,  the  ancient  and  especial  place  of  coronation  of  the  kings  of 
France,  he  caused  himself  to  be  crowned  at  Poitiers.  This  prince,  though 
only  twenty  years  of  age,  was  very  popular  with  multitudes  of  the  French 
as  well  for  tile  many  virtues  of  his  private  character,  as  for  the  great  and 
precocious  abilities  he  had  shown  in  most  difUcult  phases  of  his  public 
affairs. 

No  one  knew  better  than  the  duke  of  Bedford  that,  excluded  though  the 
dauphin  was  from  his  rightful  succession,  by  the  unnatural  and  unpatriotic 
act  ol'  his  imbecile  father,  his  own  abilities  would  be  strongly  aided  by 


360 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


aii.itjFHl  ana  inevitable  revulsion  of  feelinff  on  the  part  of  those  Frenchmen 
who  had  hitherto  shown  themselves  fast  friends  to  England,     lie  there- 
fore sirietly  oheyed  the  dying  injunction  of  Henry  as  to  a  sedulous  culii- 
vation  of  the  friendship  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  whose  person;.!  quarrel 
with  Charles  had  so  mainly  ai^'d  the  success  of  the  English  cause  thus 
fur,  and  whose  support  would  i..  .iceforth  he  80  vitally  important  to  their 
maintaining  their  ground  in  Fran<je.     Bedford,  therelore,  hastened  to  ful- 
fil his  part  in  the  treaty  of  Troyes,  by  espousing  Philip'i,  sister,  the  prin- 
cess of  Arras  ;  and  he  even  offered  his  new  brother-in-law  the  regency 
of  France,  which  Philip,  for  not  very  obvious  reasons,  declined,  though, 
as  he  was  far  from  benig  unambitious,  he  could  scarcely  have  overlook, 
ed  that  the  regency,  during  the  minority  of  young  Henry  and  the  continu- 
ed success  of  tiie  English,  would  be  nearly  equivalent  to  the  actual  sov- 
ereignty, and  miglitby  some  very  slight  circumstance,  actually  lead  lo  it. 
The  duke  of  Bedford  next  turned  his  attontio;i  la  securing  the  friend- 
ship of  the  duke  of  Brittany,  who,  whether  as  friend  or  foe,  was  next  in 
importance,  as  regarded  the  English  power,  to  Burgundy  himself.    The 
duke  of  Brittany  had  already  given  in  his  adhesion  to  the  treaty  of  Troyes; 
but  as  Bedford  knew  how  much  that  prince  was  governed  by  his  brotlier, 
the  count  of  Richemont,  he  skilfully  sought  to  fix  the  friendship  oi 
that  haughty  and  not  very  strictly  honourable  person.    Richemont  was 
among  the  high  personages  who  were  made  prisoners  at  Agincourl,  but 
had  been  treated  with  great  kindness  in  England,  and  even  allowed  by 
Henry  V.  to  visit  Brittany,  on  his  parole  of  honour,  to  return  ai  a  given 
time.     Before  the  time  arrived  the  death  of  Henry  occurred,  and  Riche- 
mont, contrary  to  all  the  usages  and  maxims  of  chivalry,  affected  to  be- 
lieve that  as  his  parole  had  been  given  personally  to  Henry  V..  his  honour 
was  in  nowise  engaged  to  maintain  it  towards  that  prince's  su<!cessor. 
His  plea  was  as  irregular  as  it  was  meanly  false ;  but  as  Bedford  had  ob- 
viously no  means  of  compelling  Richemont  to  a  more  honourable  course 
of  conduct,  without  involving  himself  in  a  very  mischievous  disagreement 
with  the  duke  of  Brittany,  he  very  wisely  made  a  virtue  of  necessity,  and 
not  only  overlooked  the  count's  misconduct,  but  even  obtained  for  him  the 
hand  of  the  widow  of  the  deceased  dauphin  Louis,  the  sister  of  Philip  of 
Burgundy. 

Having  thus  both  politically  and  personally  allied  himself  with  the  po 
tent  dukes  of  Burgundy  and  Brittany,  Bedford  now  directed  his  attention 
to  Scotland.  The  duke  of  Albany,  who,  as  regent  of  Scotland,  had  so 
considerably  aided  the  dauphin,  now  King  Charles,  by  sending  him  large 
bodies  of  veteran  Scotch  troops,  was  dead,  and  his  office  and  powet 
had  been  assumed  by  his  son  Murdac.  This  nobleman  had  neither  the  tal- 
ents nor  the  energy  of  his  father,  and  he  was  quite  unable  to  limit,  as  the 
duke  of  Albany  had  done,  any  enterprises  to  which  the  turbulent  nobles 
of  Scotland  might  think  proper  to  turn  their  attention.  This  instantly 
became  evident  from  the  sudden  and  vast  increase  of  the  number  of  Scot- 
tish nobles  who  hastened  to  offer  their  swords  to  Charles  of  France;  and 
the  piercing  glance  of  Bedford  discerned  the  strong  probability  of  the 
Scots,  at  no  distant  day,  doing  Charles  the  still  more  effectual  service  of 
distracting  the  attention  and  dividing  the  force  of  his  English  enemies,  by 
making  formidable  and  frequent  incursions  upon  the  northern  counties  of 
England. 

As  the  readiest  and  surest  way  of  meeting  this  portion  of  his  difficulties, 
Bedford  induced  the  English  government  to  restore  to  liberty  the  Scottish 
king,  young  James,  on  the  payment  of  a  ransom  of  forty  thousand  pounds. 
This  young  prince  who  had  resided  in  England  from  his  early  boyhood, 
and  had  there  received  the  very  best  education  which  the  scholastic  state 
of  that  age  would  afford  even  to  princes,  had  imbibed  mrch  of  the  English 
feelings  and  tastes ;  and  during  the  whole  of  his  short  reign — (he  was  mur- 


THK  TREASUllY  OP  HISTORY. 


361 


dered  in  1437  ly  the  earl  of  Aihol)— whatever  might  be  the  eiS'iu  of  the 
leaning  he  was  aliedged  lo  hav?  towiinlrt  Prance,  ho  never  oiuu'  i^uvh  the 
Englieh  cause  lo  regret  tlieir  gnimrnsity  or  to  throw  hlaim-  on  ilie  [)oliey 
^r  UedforiJ,  tu  which  the  young  kmg  owed  his  freedom  and  the  enjoyment 
of  his  throi^e. 

Even  wiiile  engaged  in  these  wise  politica'  ./recautions,  the  dnkc  of 
Bedford  slreimously  exerted  himself  in  those  m'-itary  movcnicnis  ••..ui  op- 
erations which  were  indispensable  to  tlie  ultimate  „  iccessof  the  mea.sureii 
he  contemplated. 

King  Charles  in  person,  and  all  t'  ■■  forces  under  his  own  immediate 
leading',  had  long  since  been  driven  mlo  the  southern  provinces  beyond 
the  Loire.  But  there  were  many  of  his  attached  partizans  still  possessed 
of  fortresses  in  the  northern  |)rovinces,  and  even  in  the  ncitrliboiirliood  ol 
Paris.  Against  these  fortresses,  therefore,  the  duke  of  Bedford  deemed 
it  necessary  to  exert  himself,  before  proceeding  to  deal  wiili  the  main 
strength  of  Charles.  Dorsay,  Noyelle,  and  Rue  in  Picardy,  were  ;,(•- 
sieged  and  taken;  and  Pont  sur  vSeine,  Venus,  and  Montaigne,  soon  after 
fell  into  the  English  power.  These  successes  were  followed  up  by  still 
more  brilliant  and  impo''.,inl  ones  ,  till  at  length  the  constable  of  Scotland, 
with  many  of  the  French  nobles,  were  taken  prisoners,  vinu  '  ;dford's 
army  occupied  L'l  Charitc  and  other  '  iwns  upon  the  Loire. 

Every  new  success  of  the  E'-  tlish  by  which  tlicy  were  brought  n'^arer 
to  his  southern  provinces,  madt  '^Jharles  the  more  painfully  anxious  for 
the  preservation  of  the  few  str'i  irholds  which  ho  still  held  in  tliose  of  the 
north,  wlK're  tiiey  could  so  greatly  annoy  and  impede  their  inimical  neigh- 
hours.  One  of  these,  Yvri  in  Normandy,  had  for  three  montlis  held  out 
against  the  utmost  eftbrts  of  its?  besiegers,  under  the  personal  command 
of  Bedford  himself;  bat  the  gallant  governor  at  length  found  himself  re- 
duced to  juch  straits  that  he  agreed  to  surrender  unless  relief  should 
reach  him  by  a  certain  day.  Information  of  this  threatened  loss  of  Yvri 
no  sooner  reached  Charles  than  he  sent  a  detachment  of  fourteen  tho'isaud 
men  to  its  relief,  one  half  of  the  deta(!hment  being  Scots  and  the  other 
half  French.  The  chief  command  of  this  detachment  was  given  to  the 
earl  of  Buchan,  the  titular  constable  of  France,  who  made  the  utmost  efforts 
to  perform  his  mission  suc(!essfully,  but  had  the  mortification  to  tind  that 
the  place  had  been  already  sur.  Midered  ere  he  could  arrive.  Resolved  not 
•0  return  from  so  long  a  march  without  having  at  least  attempted  some 
important  enterprise,  and,  turning  to  the  left,  he  marched  rapi  ily  to  Vej- 
neuil  and  prepared  to  besiege  that  place,  which  was  delivered  up  to  i.im 
by  the  citizens,  in  spite  of  all  the  opposition  that  could  be  made  by  tUc' 
garrison. 

It  had  been  well  had  Buchan  contented  himself  with  this  success.  But, 
encouraged  by  it,  he  called  a  council  of  war  to  consult  whether  he  should 
now  make  good  his  retreat,  with  the  glory  he  had  so  easily  and  cheaplj 
acquired,  or  await  the  coining  up  of  the  duke  of  Bedford.  Thou^ii  the  for- 
mer plan  was  strongly  and  well  urged  by  the  graver  and  more  poli;ic  of 
his  officers,  the  latter  one  was  so  agreeable  to  Buchan's  own  desire  t(  en- 
gage the  enemy  at  any  risk,  that  he  finally  adopted  it,  and  it  was  not  lon^j- 
ere  his  army  was  confronted  with  that  of  Bedford.  The  numbers  were 
tolerably  equal ;  and  Buchan  drawing  up  his  men  in  excellent  order  under 
the  walls  of  Verneuil,  determined  in  that  advantageous  position  te  await 
the  charge  of  the  enemy.  This  prudent  precaution,  in  a  situation  which 
greater  prudence  would  wholly  have  preserved  him  from,  was  defeated  by 
the  impetuous  rashness  of  the  viscount  of  Narbonne,  who  led  his  men  so 
furiously  to  the  charge,  that  for  an  instant  the  English  archers  were  beaten 
from  the  line  of  palisadoes,  behind  which,  according  to  their  usual  cus- 
tom, they  had  stationed  themselves.  Quickly  recovering  themselves, 
however,  and  forming  behind  and  among  their  baggage,  tli(;y  poured  their 


963 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


arrows  so  thickly  and  with  such  (Um  lly  precision,  that  Narbonne's  men 
fell  fast  around  him  and  were  soon  thrown  into  confusion.  The  maiii 
body  of  liie  constable's  army,  animated  out  of  all  sensf  of  steady  disi-i. 

Sline  hy  the  dashmg  but  most  iniprii''  it  charge  of  this  division,  ruhhed  to 
larboinie's  support,  and  necessard}  rtook  with  his  men  the  slaughter 
and  the  panic  caustJ  by  the  KngliMi  -hers;  while  the  duke  of  Bedford, 
perceiving  the  confusion  of  the  eneni)  ,  rtcized  upon  the  favourable  moment, 
and  chaiged  them  at  thu  head  of  the  mam  body  of  his  men-at-arms.  The 
French  ranks  quickly  broke  under  this  vigorous  attack,  and  the  rout  in  a 
few  miimtcs  became  general.  Though  Bedford's  victory  was  complete, 
it  was  as  he  considered,  so  dearly  purchased  by  the  loss  of  sixteen  hun- 
dred of  the  English  to  about  two  thousand  of  the  French,  that  he  would 
not  allow  any  rejoicings  for  a  victory  which  had  cost  the  EngHsh  a  luos 
so  nearly  proportioned  to  that  of  the  enemy.  But  the  loss  of  the  French 
could  not  fairly  be  estimated  by  u  mere  statement  of  numbers.  It  was 
unusually  great  among  the  leaders ;  Buchan  himself,  the  earl  of  Douglas 
and  his  son,  the  counts  D'Aumale,  De  Tonnere,  and  De  Ventadour,  with 
many  other  nobles,  were  among  the  slain ;  and  the  duke  D'Alen^on,  the 
marshal  de  la  Fayette,  and  the  lords  Gaucourt  and  Morteniar  among  the 
prisoners.  On  the  following  day  Verneuil,  having  no  hope  of  relief,  sur- 
rendered to  Bedford. 

Nothing  could  appear  more  desperate  than  the  case  of  the  Frencih  king. 
He  had  in  this  fatal  battle  lost  the  bravest  of  his  leaders ;  his  partizans 
had  no  longer  even  a  chance  of  making  any  head  against  the  English  in 
the  provinces  north  of  the  Loire;  and  he  was  so  far  from  possessing  the 
necessary  means  of  recruiting  his  army  and  enticing  other  gallant  men  to 
embrace  his  desperate  cause,  that  he  actually  hud  not  even  the  means  of 
paying  for  the  support  of  his  retinue,  though  he  carefully  abstained  from 
mdulging  many  of  the  frivolous  and  expensive  shadows  of  royalty,  while 
he  was  still  uncertain  of  the  issue  of  his  contest  for  its  substance.  But 
just  as  he  iiimself,  as  well  as  both  his  friends  and  his  foes,  began  to  deem 
his  cause  nearly  lost,  a  most  unexpected  incident  occurred  to  save  h  m. 

.Jacqueline,  countess  of  Holh^n''  vad  Hainault,  had,  from  the  politic  mo- 
tives which  so  generally  d  (ij.miiied  princely  marriages,  espoused  the 
duke  of  Burgundy's  c()U8in-::,''i'.!)ai,  John,  duke  of  Brabant.  The  bride- 
groom was  a  mere  boy  o;'  uMu  ti ;  liie  lady  was  much  older,  and  of  a  mas- 
culine and  ardent  temper.  The  sickly  and  weak-minded  boy-husband 
soon  became  the  detestation  of  his  vigorous  and  high-spirited  wife, 
and  she  applied  to  Rome  to  annul  the  unequal  and  unsuitable  marriage. 
Being  well  aware  that,  venal  as  Rome  was,  much  difficulty  awaited  from 
the  powerful  opposition  which  would  be  made  to  her  design  by  the  duke 
of  Burgundy,  and  being  fearful  that  he  would  even  go  to  the  extreme  of 
putting  her  under  personal  restraint,  she  made  her  escape  to  England,  and 
solicited  the  aid  and  protection  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester.  The  personal 
beauty  of  the  countess  Jacqueline,  together  with  the  temptation  of  her  in- 
herited wealth  and  sovereignty,  stimulated  the  love  and  ambition  of  Glou- 
cester so  far,  that,  without  even  waiting  the  result  of  an  application  to 
Rome,  he  made  a  contract  of  marriage  with  her,  cind  commenced  an  at- 
tempt to  wrest  her  territories  from  the  duke  of  Brabant. 

The  duke  of  Burgundy  was  doubly  annoyed  and  disgusted  by  tiiis  pro- 
ceeding of  Gloucester ;  for  while  it  very  seriously  trenched  upon  his  fam- 
ily power  and  wealth,  it  gave  but  an  unpromising  earnest  of  the  conduct 
to  be  expected  from  the  English,  when,  having  fully  established  themselves 
in  France,  they  should  no  longer,  from  not  nt^eding  the  duke's  alliance 
and  support,  have  an  interested  motive  for  putting  any  limits  to  their 
personal  ambition  or  cupidity.  Actuated  by  these  feelings,  he  not  only 
counselled  his  cousin  to  resistance,  but  exerted  himself  to  induce  the 


givmg 
his  misti 

Soon 
her  terri 
she  die 
with  the 

This 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


363 


more  p»m*rful  of  JoKophiiie'H  •ubjccts  to  oppost;  her,  nii(!  miirchpil  hiiiiaeU 
with  a  <     isult^ralilc  body  of  '.lis  troopx  to  Miipport  tht-in  in  (iuiiig  so. 

Too  v;xcliiHivelv  ciigiiged  with  hia  itfrsonal  dosigiis  to  give  their  due 
weiglil  to  pohlicul  coiiiiiderHlioiis,  (iloncester  wouhl  not  Ik*  diverted  from 
his  purpose;  and  a  ({iiarrel  at  oiire  pi'  tical  niid  pcrHoiial  thus  engaged 
him  and  the  duke  of  Burgundy  in  war  in  the  Low  (.'ountries. 

Gloucester,  in  the  course  of  the  angry  correspondence  which  accom- 
panied the  warhke  (contest  between  him  and  the  (hike  of  Uurgnndy,  impu- 
ted falsehood  to  Philip,  in  terms  so  insultingly  direct,  that  Philip  insisted 
upon  a  retraction,  and  personal  challenges  now  passed  between  them. 

The  grave  and  politic  Bedford  was  vexed  to  the  soul  at  the  consequences 
of  Gloucester's  imprudence;  consequences  as  disastrous  and  Ihreateniiig 
to  the  English  power  in  France,  as  they  were  fortunate  and  hopeful  to  lue 
cause  of  the  righUul  king  of  France.  For,  in  the  first  place,  Gli  ester 
em[)loyed  in  his  own  quarrel  the  troops  which  Beford  had  been  k 

iously  expecting  from  England,  and,  in  the  next  place,  this  O' 
could  not  but  weaken,  if  it  did  not  wholly  alienate,  the  friendsi 
duke  of  Burguiiiiv,  to  which  the  English  cause  was  so  much 
Having  endeavou,  cd,  but  in  vain,  to  mediate  between  the  angry  duk 
ford  now  saw  himself  obliged  to  abstain  from  following  up  his  sigi. 
tory  at  Verneuil,  and  to  hasten  to  England,  to  endeavour  oy  his  presence 
there  to  repair  the  already  very  iniscnievous  consequences  of  his  brother's 
headstrong  temper  and  personal  ambition. 

iJor  was  it  on  account  of  Gloucester's  folly  alone  that  the  presence  of 
Bedford  was  at  this  juncture  much  needed  in  F^ngland.  The  bishop  of 
Winchester,  as  we  mentioned  before,  had  been  selected  by  parliament  as 
custos  of  the  young  king's  person  not  only  on  account  of  his  great  abili. 
ties,  but  also  because  his  family  had  no  claim  to  the  throne  that  could  in- 
duce him  to  behave  unfairly  to  his  young  charge.  But  this  prelate  had 
great  personal  ambition.  He  was  of  an  arbitrary  and  peremptory  temper 
and  requlisd  from  the  council  a  far  greater  share  of  authority  in  the  state 
than  his  office  of  custos  of  the  king's  person  could  warrant  him  in  de 
manding,  or  the  council  in  granting. 

Between  the  prelate,  thus  peremptory  and  ambitious,  and  the  equally 
ambitious  and  fiery  Gloucester,  it  was  inevitable  that  an  open  quarre. 
should  take  place  imder  such  circumstances ;  and  as  each  of  them  had  his 
partizans  in  the  ministry,  it  was  not  without  some  difficulty  that  even  the 
great  authority  of  Bedford  composed  the  existing  differences  ;  nor  did  he 
wholly  succeed  in  so  doing  until  he  had  invoked  the  authority  of  parlia- 
ment, before  which  assembly  the  two  disputants  were  compelled  to  come 
to  an  apparent  reconciliation,  and  to  promise  that  thenceforth  all  their 
differences  should  be  buried  in  oblivion. 

While  Bedford  had  been  busy  in  adjusting  this  untoward  and  unseemly 
quarrel,  the  duke  of  Burgundy  had  so  well  employed  his  credit  at  Rome, 
as  to  have  procured  a  bull  which  not  only  annulled  the  marriage  contract 
between  the  countess  Jacqueline  and  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  but  also  for- 
bade their  marriage  even  in  the  event  of  the  duke  of  Brabant  being  re- 
moved by  death.  The  duke  of  Gloucef 'er,  who  had  all  along  been  actu- 
ated in  his  adventurous  suit  far  more  by  ambition  and  cupidity  than  by 
love,  finding  so  insuperable  an  obstacle  interposed  between  him  and  even 
his  future  success,  very  soon  consoled  himself  for  his  disappointment  by 
giving  his  hand  to  a  lady  who  had  for  a  considerable  time  been  known  aa 
Bis  mistress. 

Soon  after,  the  duke  of  Brabant  died ;  and  his  widow  in  order  to  recover 
her  territory,  was  obliged  to  declare  the  duke  of  Burgundy  her  heir  should 
she  die  without  issue,  and  to  engage  not  to  take  a  second  husband  unless 
with  the  duke's  consent. 

This  termination  of  the  affair  prevented  the  immediate  hostility  upon 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


904 


THE  TRBA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


the  part  of  Burgundy,  of  which  Bedford  at  first  had  been  very  ju»tly  ap. 
prehenaive ;  but  all  the  circumstances  of  the  quarrel  were  calculated  greatly 
to  weaken  the  duke  of  Burgundy  in  his  attachment  to  the  Kn^lisli,  fruni 
whom  he  could  no  longer  expect,  in  the  event  of  their  complete  success, 
to  receive  much  better  treatment  than  that  which  on  the  part  of  King 
Charles  had  aroused  the  duke  to  such  fierce  enmity ;  and  ultimately  this 
quarrel  did  alienate  the  duke  from  his  unnatural  and,  on  the  whole,  very 
impolitic  alliance  with  the  English. 

The  duke  of  Brittany,  whose  alliance  Bedford  valued  only  second  to  that 
of  Burgundy,  was  very  effectually  detached  from  the  English  side  by  the 
gift  to  his  brother,  the  count  of  Kichemont,  of  the  office  of  constable  ol 
France,  vacant  by  the  death  of  Buchan;  and  this  loss  must  have  been  the 
more  mortifying  to  Bedford,  because  he  could  not  be  unaware  that  it  was 
mainly  owing  to  the  impolitic  pertinacity  with  which  he  had  refused  to 
gratify  the  passion  of  the  count  of  Richemont  for  military  command.  But 
the  loss,  however  caused  or  liowever  much  lamented,  was  wholly  irre- 
trievable ;  for  whatever  there  was  of  personal  and  selfish  in  the  duke's 
motive  for  changing  his  party,  the  change  was  permanent,  and  he  ever  af- 
ter remained  faithful  to  King  Charles. 

The  cooled  zeal  of  one  ally  and  the  total  loss  of  another,  and  the  favour 
able  moral  effect  which  these  things  and  eight  months  of  comparative  quiet 
had  produced  upon  the  partizans  of  king  Charles,  were  sufllicient  to  cause 
anxiety  to  the  sagacious  duke  of  Bedford  when  he  returned  to  France. 

The  French  garrison  of  Montargis  was  besieged  by  the  earl  of  Warwick 
and  an  army  of  three  thousand  men,  and  was  so  reduced  as  to  be  on  the 
very  point  of  surrendering,  when  the  Bastard  of  Orleans,  afterwards  so 
famous  under  his  title  of  duke  of  Dunois,  marched  with  only  sixteen  hun- 
dred men  to  Montargis,  and  compelled  Warwick,  in  spite  of  his  superior 
numbers,  to  raise  the  seige. 

The  first  aim  of  the  duke  of  Bedford  was  to  bring  back  to  his  alliance 
the  duke  of  Brittany.  Sensible  that  that  prin'^e  had  chiefly  been  guided 
in  his  change  of  alliance  by  the  count  of  Richemont,  and  would,  therefore, 
most  probably  allow  his  own  obvious  interest  to  induce  him  to  change 
sides  once  more,  Bedford  secretly  concentrated  several  detachments  of 
English  upon  the  frontiers  of  Brittany,  and  invaded  that  province  so  sud- 
denly, that  the  duke  had  no  chance  of  resistance,  but  saw  himself  obliged 
to  consent  to  give  up  the  French  alliance  and  adhere  to  the  treaty  of 
Troyes,  to  acknowledge  the  duke  of  Bedford  as  regent  of  France  and  to 
pledge  himself  to  do  homage  to  the  young  king  Henry  for  his  duchy. 

Having  thus  freed  himself  from  a  dangerous  enemy  in  his  rear,  Bedford 
prepared  for  an  enterprise,  the  success  of  which  would  pretty  coihpletely 
insure  the  entire  success  of  the  English  cause — the  siege  of  the  city  of 
Orleans,  which  was  so  situated  between  the  northern  and  southern  prov- 
mces  as  to  open  a  way  to  the  entrance  of  either  by  its  possessor.  A» 
Bedford,  having  been  so  successful  in  expelling  Charles  from  the  northern 
provinces,  was  about  to  attack  him  in  the  south,  the  possession  of  Orleans 
was  evidently  of  the  greatest  importance  to  him. 

The  conduct  of  the  attack  upon  Orleans  was  entrusted  to  the  earl  of 
Salisbury,  a  distinguished  soldier,  who  had  just  brought  a  reinforcement 
of  six  thousand  men  from  England.  The  earl,  quite  rightly,  no  doubt, 
confined  himself  to  the  task  of  taking  several  places  in  the  vicinity  of  Or- 
'eans,  which,  though  they  were  but  small,  might  prove  of  very  serious  in- 
convenience to  him  wher.i  engaged  in  the  contemplated  siege.  These 
preliminary  measures  of  the  earl,  however  conformable  to  the  rules  of 
war,  and  however  indispensable  under  the  particular  circuiu'  tances,  were 
at  the  least  thus  far  unfortunate,  that  they  at  once  disclosed  to  King 
Hbarles  the  main  design  of  the  English,  and  gave  him  time  and  opportuui- 


TUB  TEBASURY  OF  HISTOHY. 


365 


earl  of 
cement 

doubt, 

ofOr- 
ous  in- 

These 

ules  of 

were 

King 

ortuuio 


xy  to  throw  in  such  stores  of  provisions  and  reinforcements  of  men  a« 
might  enable  the  garrison  to  make  an  effectual  resistance. 

The  lord  of  Gaucour,  an  officer  of  equal  conduct,  valour,  and  experience, 
was  made  governor,  and  many  other  veteran  officers  threw  thamselves 
into  the  place  to  aid  iiim  in  its  defence ;  the  troops  they  ^Jad  to  command 
were  veterans  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  and  even  the  very  citizens,  in- 
stead of  being  liitely  to  disturb  their  defenders  by  idle  fears,  were  now  so 
accustomed  to  war  that  they  promised  to  be  of  very  important  service. 

Having  completed  his  preliminary  operations,  the  earl  of  Salisbury  ap- 

[iroached  Orleans  with  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men,  and  all  Europe 
ooked  with  anxiety  for  the  result  of  a  siege  which  was  likely  to  be  so 
completely  decisive  as  to  the  future  fate  of  France,  and  where,  conse- 
quently, it  behoved  Charles  to  make  his  utmost  and  final  effort. 

Having  too  small  a  force  for  the  complete  investment  of  a  city  which, 
apart  from  its  great  extent,  had  the  advantage  of  a  bridge  over  the  Loire, 
the  earl  of  Salisbury  proceeded  to  attack  the  southern  side,  towards  So- 
logne ;  but  as  he  was  attacking  the  fortifications  which  defended  the  bridge, 
he  was  killed  by  a  cannon  shot  while  in  the  very  act  of  reconnoitering  the 
enemy.  The  command  of  the  English  now  fell  upon  the  earl  of  Sufllblk, 
and  he,  receiving  at  the  same  time  a  large  reinforcement  of  both  English 
and  Burgundians,  departed  from  Salisbury's  plan  of  partial  operations,  led 
his  main  force  across  the  river,  and  thus  invested  the  city  on  the  other 
side.  The  winter  having  now  commenced,  the  severity  of  the  weather 
rendered  it  impracticable  to  throw  up  intrenchments  completely  around ; 
but  by  constructing  redoubts  at  convenient  distances,  Suffolk  was  at  once 
able  to  lodge  his  soldiers  safely,  and  to  distress  the  enemy  by  preventing 
any  supplies  being  conveyed  to  them ;  leaving  the  task  of  connecting  the 
redoubts  by  a  series  of  trenches  until  the  arrival  of  spring.  It  thus  ap- 
pears that  Suffolk  trusted  rather  to  famine  than  to  force ;  to  confining  the 
enemy  strictly  within  their  walls,  than  to  hazarding  his  cause  by  splendid 
storming  feats,  which  were  certain  to  cost  him  many  of  his  bravest  men, 
and  were  not  likely  to  be  soon  successful ;  for  though  he  had  a  train  of 
artillery,  the  engineering  art  was  as  yet  far  too  imperfect  to  allow  of  its 
making  any  speedy  impression  upon  so  strong  a  fortress.  The  attempts 
of  the  friends  of  the  besieged  to  throw  in  supplies,  and  of  the  English  to 
prevent  them,  gave  rise  to  many  splendid  but  partial  engagements,  in 
which  both  parties  displayed  great  gallantry  and  enterprise.  So  persever- 
ing, indeed,  were  the  French,  that  upon  some  occasions  they  succeeded 
in  throwing  in  supplies,  in  defiance  of  all  the  vigilance  and  courage  by 
which  they  were  opposed ;  but  the  convoys  that  were  thus  fortunate  could 
but  in  a  very  inconsiderable  degree  assist  a  garrison  so  numerous,  and  it 
was  evident  to  all  military  observers  that  Suffolk's  cautious  policy  bade 
fair  to  be  successful,  and  that,  however  slowly,  the  EngH  di  >.vere  steadily 
and  constantly  advancing  nearer  to  the  accomplishment  uf  their  important 
designs. 

A.  D.  1429. — While  Suffolk  was  thus  engaged  in  starving  the  enemy 
within  the  walls,  he  was  himself  in  no  small  danger  of  being  placed  in  the 
same  predicament.  There  were,  it  is  true,  neither  intrenchments  nor 
redoubts  behind  him,  but  there  were  nuii»«rous  and  indefatigable  parties 
of  French  ravagers,  who  completely  denuded  of  provisions  all  the  neigh- 
bouring districts  from  which  he  might  otherwise  have  procured  supplies ; 
and  from  his  small  force  he  could  not.  without  great  danger  to  his  main 
design,  detach  any  considerable  number  to  keep  the  French  ravagers  in 
check.  Just  as  Suffolk's  men  began  to  be  seriously  distressed  for  provi- 
sions, a  very  great  convoy  of  stores  of  every  description  arrived  to  theii 
reV.ef,  under  the  command  of  Sir  John  Fastolffe,  with  an  escort  of  two 
thousand  five  hundred  men;  but  ere  it  could  reach  Suffolk's  camp  it  was 
«ud(.lenly  attacked  by  nearly  double  that  number  of  French  and  Scotcli, 


ifM 


THE  TREASURY  OF    I18TUB 


Dnder  the  command  of  Diinois  and  the  count  of  Clermopt.  FustolflTe  en- 
deavoured to  counterbalance  his  inferiority  in  men  by  drawing  them  up 
behind  the  wagons,  but  the  enemy  brought  a  small  battery  of  cannon  to 
bear  upon  him,  which  very  effectually  dislodged  and  disordered  the  En- 
glish. The  affair  now  seemed  to  be  secure  on  the  French  side,  as  a  steady 
perseverance  but  for  a  few  minutes  in  their  first  proceedings  would  have 
made  it.  But  the  fierce  and  undisciplined  impetuosity  of  a  part  of  the 
Scotch  troops  caused  them  to  break  their  line  and  rush  in  upon  the  En- 
glish ;  a  general  action  ensued,  and  ended  in  the  retreat  of  the  French, 
who  lost  five  hundred  in  killed,  besides  a  great  number  of  wounded,  and 
among  the  latter  was  Dunois  himself.  The  convoy  that  was  thus  saved 
to  the  English  was  of  immense  importance,  and  owing  to  a  part  of  it  be- 
ing  herrings  for  the  food  of  the  soldiers  during  Lent,  the  affair  commonly 
went  by  the  name  of  the  "  Battle  of  the  Herrings." 

The  relief  thus  afforded  to  the  English  enabled  them  daily  to  press  more 
closely  upon  the  important  city  ;  and  Charles,  now  wholly  despairing  of 
rescuing  it  by  force  of  arms,  caused  the  duke  of  Orleans,  who  was  slill  » 
prisoner  in  England,  to  propose  to  Gloucester  and  the  council,  that  this 
city  and  all  its  territory  should  be  allowed  to  remain  neutral  during  the 
whole  remainder  of  the  war,  and,  as  the  best  security  for  neutrality,  be 
placed  in  the  keeping  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  That  prince  readily 
grasped  at  the  proposal,  and  went  to  Paris  to  urge  it  upon  the  duke  of 
Bedford,  who,  however,  replied,  that  he  had  no  notion  of  beating  the 
bushes  that  others  might  secure  the  game ;  and  Burgundy,  deeply  offended 
both  at  the  refusal  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was  made,  immediately 
departed  and  withdrew  all  those  of  his  men  who  were  concerned  in  the 
investment  of  Orleans.  Foiled  as  well  in  negotiation  as  in  arms,  Charles 
now  wholly  despaired  of  rescuing  Orleans,  when  an  incident  occurred  to 
save  it  and  to  give  new  hopes  to  his  cause,  so  marvellous,  that  it  reads 
more  like  the  invention  of  a  romancer's  fancy  than  the  sober  relation  of 
the  matter-of-fact  historian. 

Long  as  Orleans  had  been  invested,  and  intimately  connected  as  its  fate 
seemed  with  that  of  the  whole  nation,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the 
siege  was  talked  of  in  all  parts  of  France,  and  speculated  upon  even  by 
persons  little  cognizant  of  public  affairs.  Among  the  thousands  whose 
minds  were  strongly  agitated  by  the  frequent  and  various  news  from 
Orleans,  was  Joan  d'Arc,  the  maid  servant  of  a  country  inn  at  Domremi, 
near  Vaucouleurs.    Though  of  the  lowest  ord  menial  servants,  this 

young  woman,  now  twenty-seven  years  of  ag«-  of  blameless  life  and 

manners.  Well  formed  and  active,  her  simple  ii...ig  and  her  hard  work 
preserved  her  naturally  healthy  constitution ;  and  as  she  was  accustomed 
to  ride  her  master's  horses  to  their  watering  place,  and  to  do  other  work 
which  in  most  households  would  fall  to  the  share  of  men,  she  was  unusu- 
ally hardy  and  of  a  somewhat  masculine  habit,  though,  as  has  been  said 
of  perfectly  blameless  life  and  urmarked  by  any  eccentricity  of  manner 
or  conduct. 

This  young  woman  paid  so  much  attention  to  what  she  heard  respect- 
ing the  siege  of  Orleans  and  the  distress  and  peril  of  her  rightful  sov 
ereign,  that  by  degrees  she  accustomed  herself  to  make  them  the  sole 
subjects  of  her  thoughts ;  and  her  sanguine  and  untutored  mind  at  length 
became  so  much  inflamed  by  sympathy  with  the  king,  and  by  a  passionate 
desire  to  aid  him,  that  her  reveries  and  aspirations  seemed  to  assume  the 
aspect  of  actual  visions  from  above,  and  she  imagined  herself  audibly 
called  upon  by  some  supernatural  power  to  exert  herself  in  her  sovereign's 
behalf.  This  delusion  became  daily  stronger,  and  at  length,  naturally 
courageous,  and  rendered  still  more  so  by  her  imagined  visions,  she  over- 
looked all  the  vast  difficulties  which  must  have  been  evident  to  even  her 
\nexperienced  mind,  and  presented  heisc^l/  to  Baudricnurt,  the  governor  of 


THE  TEBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


3<9 


Fe  eu' 
m  up 
ion  to 
e  En- 
iteady 
1  have 
}f  the 
le  En- 
rench, 
id,  and 
saved 
'  it  be- 
kmonly 

IS  more 
iring  of 
s  still  a 
iiat  this 
ing  the 
ility,  be 
readily 
duke  of 
ting  the 
offended 
lediately 
jd  in  the 
,  Charles 
3urred  to 
t  it  reads 
elation  oi 

l8  its  fate 

t  that  the 

even  by 

els  whose 

W3  from 

)omremi, 

ants,  this 

s  life  and 
ard  work 

customed 
her  work 
,8  unusu- 
leen  said 
f  manner 

.  respect' 
titful  sov 
.  the  sole 
I  at  length 
Passionate 
isume  the 
|lf  audibly 
overeign'9 
naturally 
I,  she  over- 
T  even  her 
lovernor  of 


Vaucouleura,  related  to  him  all  her  fancied  experiences,  and  besought  him 
to  listen  to  the  voice  of  heaven  and^o  aid  her  in  fulfilling  itsdecreea. 
Alter  some  hesitation,  the  governor,  whether  really  believing  all  that  Joan 
affirmed  of  her  visions,  or  only  considering  her  a  visionary  of  whose  de 
lusions  a  profitable  use  might  be  made  by  the  king's  friends,  furnished 
her  with  some  attendants  and  sent  her  to  Chinon,  where  Charles  and  hii 
scanty  court  then  resided. 

Where  so  much  is  undeniably  true  in  a  tale  of  which  so  much  must  of 
necessity  be  false,  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  separate  the  true  from  the  wholly 
false  or  the  greatly  exaggerated.  We,  therefore,  shall  simply  relate  what 
passed  and  is  said  to  have  passed,  contenting  ourselves. with  this  single 
caiition  to  the  reader — to  conceive  that,  from  very  many  motives,  evea 
the  best  men  then  living  about  the  French  king's  court  were  liable  to  be 
seduced  into  credulity  on  the  one  hand  and  exaggeration  on  the  other,  and 
that,  consequently,  the  wise  plan  in  reading  what  follows  will  be  to  reject 
altogether  all  that  assumes  to  be  miraculous,  and  to  credit  only  what,  how* 
ever  extraordinary,  is  perfectly  natural,  and  especially  under  the  extraor« 
dinary  state  of  affairs  at  that  time. 

When  Joan  was  introduced  to  the  king  she  at  once  singled  him  out  from 
among  the  courtiers  by  whom  he  was  surrounded,  although  it  was  at- 
tempted to  baffle  her  on  this  point  by  the  king's  assumption  of  a  plain  dress, 
totally  destitute  of  all  marks  or  ornaments  that  could  discover  his  rank  to 
her.  Repeating  to  him  what  she  had  already  told  to  Baudricourt,  she 
assured  him,  in  the  name  of  heaven,  that  she  would  compel  the  English 
to  raise  the  siege  of  Orleans,  and  would  safely  conduct  him  to  Rheims, 
that,  like  his  ancestors,  he  might  be  crowned  there.  The  king  expressed 
some  doubts  of  the  genuineness  of  her  mission,  and,  very  pertinently,  de- 
manded some  unequivocal  and  convincing  proof  of  her  supernal  inspira- 
tion; upon  which,  all  the  attendants  save  the  king's  confidential  friends 
being  w^ithdrawn,  she  told  him  a  secret  which,  from  its  very  nature,  he 
had  every  reason  to  believe  that  by  natural  means  no  one  in  the  world 
could  know ;  and  she,  at  the  same  time,  described  and  demanded  to  be 
armed  with  a  certain  sword  which  was  deposited  in  the  church  of  St. 
Catharine  of  Fierbois,  ■  nd  of  which,  though  it  was  certain  that  she  never 
could  have  seen  it,  she  described  the  various  marks  with  great  exactness. 
Though  greatly  staggered,  the  king  was  even  yet  unconvinced ;  and  a  con- 
clave of  doctors  and  theologians  was  assembled,  to  inquire  into  and  report 
upon  Joan's  alledged  mission.  The  report  of  these  learned  persons  was 
decidedly  in  favour  of  the  damsel's  truth,  and  she  was  then  closely  inter- 
rogated by  the  parliament  which  was  sitting  at  Poitiers,  and  here  again  it 
was  decided  that  her  mission  was  genuine. 

If  the  king  and  his  advisers  first  simulated  doubt  and  scrupulosity,  only 
to  increase  the  effect  upon  the  vulgar  of  their  subsequent  and  seemingly 
reluctant  belief,  the  device  had  all  the  success  they  could  have  desired. 
Ever  prone  to  belief  in  the  marvellous,  the  people  who  had  lately  been  in 
the  deepest  despair  now  spoke  in  accents  not  merely  of  hope  but  of  con- 
viction, that  heaven  had  miraculously  inspired  a  inaiden-champion,  by 
whose  instructions  the  king  would  be  enabled  to  triumph  over  all  his  diffi- 
culties and  to  expel  all  his  enemies. 

But  it  was  not  merely  as  an  adviser  that  Joan  believed  herself  instructed 
to  aid  her  king.  In  her  former  servile  occupation  she  had  learned  to 
manage  a  horse  with  ease,  and  she  was  now  mounted  on  a  war-steed, 
armed,  "  cap  Ji  pie,"  and  paraded  before  the  people.  Her  animated  coun- 
tenance, her  youth,  and,  above  all,  her  graceful  and  fearless  equitation, 
which  seemed  so  marvellous  and  yet  might  have  been  so  easily  accounted 
for,  confirmed  all  the  favourable  impressions  which  had  been  formed  of 
her ;  and  the  multitude  loudly  avered  that  any  enterprise  headed  by  her 
must  needs  be  successful.     With  these  fond  prepossessions  in  her  favour 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HI8TUU<. 


■he  set  out  for  TUois  to  head  the  escort  of  a  convoy  abou  to  be  sent  k. 
the  relief  of  Orleans. 

The  escort  in  question  consisted  of  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men  undei 
the  command  of  St.  Severe,  who  now  had  orders  to  consider  himself 
second  in  command  to  Joan  d'Arc ;  though  probably  with  a  secret  reser- 
vatioii  not  to  allow  her  supprnatural  fancies  to  militate  agiiinst  aay  of  the 
precautions  commanded  by  the  laws  of  mortal  warfare.  Joan  ordered 
every  man  in  the  army  to  confess  himself  before  marching,  and  all  women 
of  bad  life  and  character  to  bu  prohibited  from  following  the  army,  which 
last  order  had  at  least  the  recommendation  of  removing  a  nuisance  which 
sadly  militated  against  good  discipline.  At  the  head  of  the  troops,  car- 
rying in  her  hand  a  consecrated  banner,  upon  which  was  embroidered  a 
representation  of  the  Supreme  Being  grasping  the  earth,  Joan  led  the  way 
to  Orleans,  and  on  approaching  it  she  demanded  that  Orleans  should  be 
entered  on  the  side  of  the  Beausse  ;  but  Dunois,  who  well  knew  that  the 
English  were  strongest  there,  so  far  interfered  with  her  prophetic  power 
as  to  cause  the  other  side  of  the  river  to  be  taken  where  the  English  were 
weaker.  The  garrison  made  a  sally  on  the  side  of  the  Beausse,  and  the 
convoy  was  safely  taken  across  the  river  in  boats,  and  was  accompanied 
by  the  Maid  of  Orleans,  whose  appearance,  under  such  circumstances, 
arrayed  in  kni^^htly  garb  and  sohimnly  waving  her  consecrated  banner, 
caused  the  soldiers  and  citizens  to  welcome  her  as  being  indeed  an  in- 
spired and  glorious  prophetess,  under  who.se  orders  they  could  not  fail  of 
success  ;  and  as  anotlier  convoy  shortly  afterwards  arrived,  even  Dunois 
was  so  far  converted  to  the  general  belief,  as  to  allow  it,  in  obedience  to 
Joan's  orders,  to  approach  by  the  side  of  the  Beausse.  This  convoy, 
too,  entered  safely,  together  with  its  esttort,  not  even  an  attempt  being 
made  on  the  part  of  the  besiegers  to  cut  it  off. 

Yet  a  few  days  before  Joan's  first  arrival  at  Orleans,  when  she  had  sent 
a  letter  to  Bedford,  threatening  him  with  the  divine  anger  should  he  ven- 
ture to  resist  the  cause  which  she  was  sent  to  aid,  the  veteran  duke  treated 
the  matter  as  the  ravings  of  a  maniac,  or  as  a  most  shallow  trick,  the  mere 
resorting  to  which  was  sufficient  to  show  the  complete  desperation  to 
which  Charles  was  driven.  But  the  age  was  superstitious,  and  the  natural 
success  which  had  merely  accompanied  the  pretensions  of  Joan  was  by 
the  ignorant  soldiers  and  by  their  (as  to  superstition)  scarcely  less  igno- 
rant officers,  taken  to  have  been  caused  by  it,  and  to  be,  therefore,  a  sine 
proof  of  her  supernatural  mission  and  an  infallible  augury  of  its  success. 
Gloom  and  terror  were  in  the  hearts  and  upon  the  countenances  of  the 
English  soldiery,  and  Suffolk  most  unwisely  allowed  these  feelings  full 
leisure  to  e.xert  themselves  by  having  his  men  unemployed  in  any  military 
attempt ;  their  inactivity  thus  serving  to  augment  their  despondency,  while 
it  increased  the  confidence  and  exultation  of  the  garrison. 

Whether  merely  obeying  the  promptings  of  a  naturally  brave  and  active 
spirit,  worked  into  a  state  of  high  enthusiasm  by  the  events  in  which  she 
had  taken  so  conspicuous  a  part,  or  from  the  politic  promptings  of  Dunois 
and  the  other  Frent.h  commanders,  Joan  now  exclaimed  that  the  garrigon 
ought  no  longer  to  be  kept  on  the  defensive ;  that  the  brave  men  who  had 
been  so  long  compulsorily  idle  and  pent  up  within  their  beleagured  walls 
should  be  led  forth  to  attack  the  redoubts  of  the  enemy,  and  that  she  was 
commissioned  by  Heaven  to  promise  them  certain  success  An  attack 
was  accordingly  made  upon  a  redoubt  and  was  completely  successful,  the 
defenders  being  killed  or  taken  prisoners  to  a  man.  This  success  gave 
new  animation  to  the  French,  and  the  forts  on  the  other  side  of  the  river 
were  next  attacked.  On  one  occasion  the  French  were  repulsed,  and 
Joan  received  an  arrow  in  her  neck ;  but  she  led  back  the  French  to  the 
charge,  and  they  overcame  the  fort  from  which  for  a  moment  they  had 
fled,  and  the  heroine — for  such  she  was,  apart  from  her  supernatural  pre- 


TIU  TKBASUBY  OF  HI8T0BY. 


3b» 


Bnt  k, 

undei 
imself 
reser- 
i)f  the 
rdered 
vomen 

which 

which 
38,  car- 
icred  a 
he  way 
auld  be 
hat  the 
!  power 
ih  were 
and  the 
iipanicd 
islances, 

banner, 
d  HU  in- 
ot.  fail  uf 
I  Dunois 
lienee  to 

convoy, 
ipl  being 

I  had  sent 
i  he  ven- 
te  treated 
ihe  mere 
ration  to 
lie  natural 
n  was  by 
|less  igno- 
>re,  a  suvt 
success. 
[es  of  the 
clings  full 
y  military 
iicv.  while 


tensions — plucked  the  arrow  from  the  wound  with  her  own  h^nds,  aiui 
■earcely  stayed  to  have  the  wound  dressed  ere  she  returned  to  the  seU- 
imposed  duty  into  which  she  so  zealously  entered. 

Such  was  the  effect  of  Joan's  deeds  and  pretensions,  that  the  English 
lost  redoubt  after  redoubt,  besides  having  upwards  of  six  thousand  men 
either  killed  or  wounded  in  these  most  desperate  though  only  partial  con- 
tests. It  was  in  vain  that  the  English  commanders,  finding  it  completely 
useless  to  endeavour  to  convince  their  men  that  Joan's  deeds  were  natural, 
laboured  to  persuade  them  that  she  was  aided  not  by  Heaven,  but  by  the 
powers  of  darkness ;  for  it  was  impossible  to  persuade  the  men  that  those 
powers  were  not,  for  the  time  at  least,  too  strong  to  be  combated  with 
any  possibility  of  success.  Fearing,  therefore,  that  the  most  extensive 
disaster,  even  a  total  destruction  of  his  army,  might  result  from  his  keep- 
ing men  so  thoroughly  and  incurably  disheartened,  before  a  place  defended 
by  men  whose  natural  courage  was  indescribably  heightened  Ly  their  be- 
lief that  they  were  supernaturally  assisted,  the  earl  of  Suffolk  prudently, 
but  most  reluctantly,  resolved  to  raise  the  siege,  and  he  commenced  his 
retreat  from  before  Orleans  with  all  the  deli^rate  calmness  which  the 
deep-seated  terror  of  his  men  would  allow  him  to  exhibit.  He  himself 
with  the  principal  part  of  his  army  retired  to  Jergeau,  whither  Joan  fol- 
lowed him  at  the  head  of  an  army  six  thousand  strong.  For  ten  days  the 
place  was  gallantly  attacked  and  as  gallantly  defended.  At  the  end  of 
that  time  orders  for  the  assault  were  given,  and  Joan  herself  descended 
into  the  foss6  and  led  the  attack.  Here  she  was  struck  to  the  ground  by 
a  stone,  but  almost  immediately  recovered  herself,  and  fought  with  her 
accustomed  courage  until  the  assault  was  completely  succe.ssful.  Suffolk 
was  himself  taken  prisoner  by  a  French  ofUcer  named  Renaud,  and  on  this 
occasion  a  singular  specimen  was  given  of  the  nice  punctilios  of  chivalry. 
When  Suffolk,  completely  overpowered,  was  about  to  give  up  his  sword, 
he  demanded  whetner  his  successful  opponent  were  a  knight.  Renaud 
was  obliged  to  confess  that  he  had  not  yet  attained  to  that  distinction, 
though  he  could  boast  of  being  a  gentleman.  Then  I  knight  you,  said 
Suffolk,  and  he  bestowed  upon  Renaud  the  knightly  accolade  with  the 
very  sword  which  an  instant  afterwards  was  delivered  to  him  as  the  captor 
of  the  man  to  whom  he  owed  his  knighthood ! 

While  these  things  were  passing  at  Jergeau,  the  remainder  of  the  En- 
glish army  under  Fastolffe,  Talbot,  and  Scales,  was  making  a  somewhat 
disorderly  retreat  before  a  strong  body  of  French ;  and  the  vanguard  of 
the  latter  overtook  the  rear  of  the  former  near  the  village  of  Patay.  So 
completely  dismayed  were  the  English,  and  so  confident  the  French,  that 
the  battle  had  no  sooner  commenced  than  it  became  converted  into  a 
mere  rout,  in  which  upwards  of  two  thousand  of  the  English  were  killed, 
and  a  vast  number,  including  both  Scales  and  Talbot,  taken  prisoners.  So 
great  and  so  universal  was  the  panic  of  the  English  at  this  period,  that 
Fastolffe,  who  had  often  been  present  in  the  most  disastrous  scenes  oi 
war,  actually  set  the  example  of  flight  to  his  astounded  troops,  and  was 
subsequently  punished  for  it  by  being  degraded  from  the  order  of  the 
garter,  which  had  been  bestowed  upon  him  as  the  appropriate  reward  of 
a  long  life  and  gallant  conduct.  So  blighting  a  power  has  superstition 
even  upon  minds  accustomed  to  treat  mortal  and  tangible  dangers  with 
indifference ! 

During  this  period  King  Charles  had  kept  remote  from  the  actual  theatre 
of  war,  though  he  had  actively  and  efliolently  busied  himself  in  furnishing 
upplies  and  sending  directions  to  the  actual  commanders  of  his  troops  in 
the  field.  But  now  that  Joan  had  so  completely  redeemed  her  pledge  as 
to  the  raising  of  the  siege  of  Orleans,  and  now  that  the  prestige  of  her 
superniitural  mission  had  so  completely  gained  the  ascendency  over  the 
minds  of  all  conditions  of  mv  I,  he  felt  neither  surprise  nor  reluctance 
I.— 24 


W 


S70 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTOKf. 


when  ahe  uri^ntly  solicited  him  to  set  out  Tor  Rheims,  and  conAdontly  re> 
peated  her  assurances  that  he  should  without  delay  be  crowned  in  that 
city.  True  it  was  that  Rheims  could  only  be  reached  by  a  very  long 
march  through  a  country  in  which  the  enemy  was  in  great  Torce,  and  in 
which,  or  course,  every  advantageous  position  was  carefully  occupied  by 
them.  But  the  army  was  confident  of  success  so  long  as  Joan  marched 
at  its  head ;  and  Charles  could  not  refuse  to  accompany  the  heroine, 
without  tacitly  confessing  that  he  had  less  faith  in  her  mission,  or  was 
himself  possessed  of  less  personal  courage,  than  the  lowest  pikeman  in 
his  army.  Either  of  these  suppositions  would  necessarily  be  fatal  to  hit 
cause ;  and  he  accordingly  set  out  for  Rheims,  accompanied  by  Joan  and 
an  army  of  twelve  thousand  men. 

Instead  of  meeting  with  the  opposition  he  had  anticipated,  Charlet 
marched  as  peacefully  along  as  though  no  enemy  had  been  in  the  neigh 
bourhood.  Troyes  and  Chalons  successively  opened  their  gates  to  him ; 
and  before  he  reached  Rheims,  where  he  might  reasonably  have  expected 
that  the  English  would  muster  their  utmost  force  to  prevent  a  coronation, 
of  which  they  could  not  but  judge  the  probable  influence  on  the  minds  o* 
the  French,  he  was  met  by  a  peaceable  and  humble  deputation  which  pre- 
sented him  with  the  keys. 

And  in  Rheims,  in  the  especial  and  antique  coronation-place  of  his 
fathers,  Charles  was  crowned,  as  the  maid  of  Orleans  had  prophesied  that 
he  would  be ;  and  he  was  anointed  with  the  holy  oil  which  was  said  to 
have  been  brought  from  Heaven  by  a  pigeon  at  the  coronation  of  Clovis ; 
and  the  lately  obscure  and  menial  of  the  village  mn  waved  over  his  heud 
the  consecrated  banner  before  which  his  foes  had  so  often  fled ;  and  while 
the  glad  multitude  shouted  in  triuniphant  joy,  she  to  whom  so  much  of 
this  triumph  was  owing  fell  at  his  feet  and  bathed  them  with  tears  of  joy. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

TBB    RllOlf   OF   HENRY   TI.    (CONTINUED.) 

Thb  coronation  of  Charles  in  the  city  of  Rheims  was  doubly  calculated 
to  raise  the  spirits  and  quicken  the  loyal  attachment  of  his  subjects.  For 
while,  as  the  established  coronation-place  of  the  kings  of  France,  Rheims 
alone  seemed  to  them  to  be  capable  of  giving  sanctity  and  effect  to  the 
solemnity,  the  truly  surprising  difRculties  that  had  been  surmounted  by 
him  in  obtaining  possession  of  that  city,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Maid  of 
Orleans,  seemed  to  all  ranks  of  men,  in  that  superstitious  age,  to  be  so 
many  clear  and  undeniable  evidences  that  the  cause  of  Charles  was  in- 
deed miraculously  espoused  by  heaven.  On  turning  his  attention  to  ob- 
taining possession  of  the  neighbouring  garrisons,  Charles  reaped  the  full 
benefit  of  this  popular  judgment ;  Laon,  Soissons,  Chateau-Thiery,  Pro- 
vins,  and  numerous  other  towns  opening  their  gates  to  him  at  the  first 
summons.  This  feeling  spread  far  and  wide,  and  Charles,  who  so  lately 
saw  himself  upon  the  very  point  of  being  wholly  expelled  from  his  country, 
had  now  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  favour  of  the  whole  nation  rapidly 
and  warmly  inclining  to  his  cause. 

Bedford  m  this  difficult  crisis  showed  himself  calm,  provident,  and  reso- 
lute as  ever  he  had  been  during  the  greatest  prosperity  of  the  English 
arms.  Perceiving  that  the  French,  and  especially  the  fickle  and  turbu- 
lent populace  of  Paris,  were  wavering,  he  judiciously  mixed  curbing  and 
indulgence,  at  once  impresoing  them  with  a  painful  sense  of  the  danger 
of  insurrection,  and  diminishing  as  far  as  kindness  could  diminish,  their 
evidently  strong  desire  for  one.  Conscious,  too,  that  Burgundy  war 
deonlv  offended,  and  that  his  open  enmity  would  just  at  this  juncture  br 


TUB  TRIASURY  07  HI8T0EY. 


S7I 


absolutely  fatal  to  the  EnglUh  cause,  Bedford  skilfully  endeavoured  to 
win  him  back  to  ffood  humour  and  to  confirm  him  <.n  his  alliance. 

But  there  was  m  Bedford's  situation  another  element  of  trouble,  agaiost 
which  he  found  it  still  more  difficult  to  contend.  The  conquest  of  France 
had  lost  much  of  its  popularity  in  the  iudgment  of  the  English.    As  r«- 

Sfarded  the  mere  multitude,  this  probably  arose  simply  from  its  having 
ont  its  novelty ;  but  thinking  men  both  in  and  out  of  parliament  had  begun 
to  count  the  cost  against  the  proAt ;  and  not  a  few  of  them  had  even  begun 
to  anticipate  not  proflt  but  actual  injury  to  England  from  the  conquest  of 
France.  These  feelings  were  so  general  and  so  strong,  that  while  the 
parliament  steadily  refused  supplies  of  money  to  Bedford,  a  corresponding 
disinclination  was  shown  by  men  to  enlist  in  the  reinforcements  which  ho 
so  much  needed.  Brave  as  they  were,  the  English  soldiers  of  that  day 
desired  gold  as  well  as  glory  ;  and  they  got  a  notion  that  neither  the  one 
nor  the  other  was  to  be  obtained  by  warring  against  the  king  of  France, 
who,  even  by  the  statements  of  the  English  commandora  themselves, 
owed  far  more  of  his  recent  rnd  marvellous  successes  lo  the  hellish  arts 
of  the  Maid  of  Orleans  than  to  mortal  skill  and  prowess. 

Just  aa  the  duke  of  Bedford  was  in  the  utmost  want  of  reinforcements, 
it  most  opportunely  chanced  that  the  bishop  (now  cardinal)  of  Winchester 
landed  at  Calais  on  his  way  to  Bohemia,  whither  he  was  leading  an  army 
of  five  thousand  men  to  combat  against  the  Hussites.  This  force  the  car* 
dinal  was  induced  to  yield  to  the  more  pressing  need  of  Bedford,  who  was 
thus  enabled  to  follow  the  footsteps  and  thwart  the  designs  of  Charles, 
though  not  to  hazard  a  general  action.  But  in  spite  of  this  aid  to  Bedford, 
and  in  spite  of  all  the  skill  and  firmness  of  that  general,  Charles  made 
himself  master  of  Compeigne,  Beauvais,  Senlis,  Sens,  Laval,  St.  Denis, 
and  numerous  places  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Paris.  To  this  amount  of 
success,  however,  the  Fabian  policy  ot  Bedford  confined  the  king  of 
France,  whose  forces  being  chiefly  volunteers,  fighting  at  their  own  ex- 
pense,  were  now  obliged  to  be  disbanded,  and  Charles  himself  retired  to 
Bourges. 

A.  D.  1430. — Attributing  the  advantage  which  Charles  had  evidently  de- 
rived from  his  coronation  rather  to  the  splendour  of  the  ceremony  than 
to  the  real  cause  of  its  locality,  Bedford  now  determined  that  his  own 
young  prince  should  be  crowned  king  of  France,  and  he  was  accordingly 
brought  to  Paris,  and  crowned  and  anointed  there  with  all  the  pomp  and 
splendour  that  could  be  commanded.  The  splendid  ceremony  was  much 
admired  by  the  Parisian  populace,  and  all  the  crown  vassals  who  lived 
in  the  territory  that  was  actually  in  the  hands  of  the  English  duly  appeared 
and  did  homage  to  the  young  king  ;  but  to  an  observant  f  '?  :t  was  very 
evident  that  this  ceremony  created  none  of  the  passion&ia  enthusiasm 
which  had  marked  that  of  Charles  at  Rheims. 

Hitherto  we  have  seen  the  maid  of  Orleans  only  in  one  long  brilliant 
and  unbroken  career  of  prosperity ;  but  the  time  now  approached  for  that 
saJ  and  total  reverse  which  must,  from  the  very  first,  have  been  anticipa- 
ted by  all  men  who  had  sense  enough  to  discredit  alike  the  representation 
of  her  miraculous  support  that  was  given  by  her  friends,  and  of  her  dia- 
bolical commerce  that  was  given  by  her  enemies.  It  would  seem  that 
she  herself  began  to  have  misgivings  as  to  the  nature  of  her  inspiration  ; 
as  it  was  quite  natural  that  she  should  have  as  the  novelties  of  military 
splendour  grew  stale  to  her  eye,  and  her  judgment  became  more  and  more 
alive  to  the  real  difficulties  or  the  military  achievements  which  must  be 
nf^rformed  by  her  royal  master,  before  he  could  become  king  of  France  in 
^eed  as  well  as  by  right.  From  such  misgivings  it  probably  arose  that, 
having  now  performed  her  two  great  and  at  first  discredited  promises,  of 
raising  the  siege  of  Orleans  and  of  causing  Charles  to  be  crowned  at 
Rheims,  she  now  urgently  desired  to  be  allowed  to  return  to  her  original 


172 


THE  TRKA8URY  OF  HISTORY 


obacurity,  and  to  the  occupations  nnd  apparel  of  her  tex.  But  Dur.ols  waa 
too  well  aware  of  the  influeiiise  of  her  supposed  sanctity  upon  the  soldiers, 
not  to  be  very  anxious  to  keep  her  amonff  them  ;  and  he  so  strongly  urged 
ner  to  remain,  and  aid  in  the  crowning  of  her  prophetic  and  great  career 
by  the  total  expulsion  uf  the  enemies  of  her  sovnruign,  that  she,  in  a  most 
evil  hour  for  herself,  was  worked  upon  to  consent.  As  the  best  service 
that  it  was  at  the  instant  in  her  power  to  do,  she  threw  herself  into  Com* 
peigne,  which  the  duke  of  Burgundy  and  the  earls  of  Arundel  and  Suffolk 
were  at  that  time  hotly  besieging.  Her  appearance  was  huiled  by  the  be- 
sieged with  a  perfect  rapture  of  joy ;  she  had  proved  her  miraculous 
power  by  such  splendid  and  unbroken  success,  that  every  man  among 
them  now  believed  himself  invincible  and  the  victory  secure  ;  and  the 
news  of  her  arrival  undoubtedly  imbued  with  very  opposite  feelings  not  a 
few  of  the  brave  hearts  in  the  Lnglish  camp.  But  the  joy  of  the  one  piirty 
and  the  gloom  of  the  other  were  alike  short-lived  and  unfounded.  On  the 
very  day  after  that  on  which  she  arrived  in  the  garrison  she  led  forth  a 
sally,  and  twice  drove  the  Burgundians,  under  John  of  Luxembourg,  from 
their  intrenchments.  But  the  Burgundians  were  so  quickly  and  so  numer- 
ously reinforced,  that  Joan  ordered  a  retreat,  and  in  the  disorder  she  was 
separated  from  her  party  and  taken  prisoner,  after  having  defended  her- 
self with  a  valour  and  address  which  would  have  done  no  discredit  to  the 
bravest  knight  among  her  Burgundian  captors. 

This  event  was  so  unexpected,  that  the  popular  humour  of  the  times 
attributed  it  to  the  treachery  of  the  French  officers,  who,  said  the  rumour, 
were  so  weary  of  hearing  themselves  depreciated  by  the  attributing  of 
every  success  to  Joan,  that  they  purposely  abandoned  her  to  the  enemy. 
But  besides  that  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  proof  of  this  charge  of  treach- 
ery, which  several  historians  have  somewhat  too  hastily  adopted,  the  fair 
presumption  is  entirely  against  it.  On  the  one  hand,  we  cannot  imagine 
that  the  private  envy  of  the  French  officers  would  thus  outweigh  alike 
their  ardour  for  the  cause  in  which  they  fought  and  their  sense  of  their 
own  safety,  which  depended  so  mainly  upon  that  triumph  which  the  in- 
spiring effect  of  Joan's  presence  among  their  men  was  more  than  anything 
else  likely  to  insure.  On  the  other  hand,  what  more  likely,  than  tliat  a 
woman,  in  spite  of  the  best  efforts  of  her  friends,  should  be  taken  prisoner 
in  such  a  scene  of  confusion  1  How  many  thousands  of  men  had  been, 
in  that  very  war,  taken  prisoners  in  similar  scenes,  without  any  surmise 
of  treachery. 

A.  n.  1431. — It  is  always  painful  to  have  to  speak  of  some  one  enormous 
and  indelible  stain  upon  a  character  otherwise  fair  and  admirable.  The 
historian  irresistibly  and  almost  unconsciously  finds  his  sympathies 
awakened  on  behalf  of  the  great  characters  whose  deeds  he  describes.  It 
is  impossible  to  write  about  the  wise  and  valorous  course  of  the  great 
duke  of  Bedford  without  a  feeling  of  intense  admiration ;  proportionally 
painful  it  needs  must  be  to  have  to  describe  him  as  being  guilty  of  most 
debased  and  brutal  cruelty.  Aware  how  much  the  success  of  Joan  had 
tended  to  throw  disaster  and  discredit  upon  his  arms,  Bedford  imagined 
that  to  have  her  in  his  power  was  to  secure  his  future  success,  and  he  paid 
a  considerable  sum  for  tier  to  John  of  Luxembourg. 

It  is  difficult  in  our  age,  when  superstition  is  so  completely  deprived  of 
its  delusive  but  terrible  power,  to  imagine  that  such  a  man  as  Bedford 
could  seriously  and  in  good  faith  give  any  credit  to  the  absurd  stories  that 
were  related  of  the  demoniac  nature  of  .loan's  powers.  But  it  would  be 
rash  to  deny  the  possibility  of  that  belief,  liowever  absurd ;  for  few  indeed 
were  the  men  who  in  that  age  were  free  from  the  stupefyinw  and  degrad- 
iiiT  influence  of  superstition.  Apart  from  her  alledged  dealings  with  the 
pi  iin  .  of  the  powers  of  darkness,  there  was  nothing  in  the  career  of  Joan 
which  siiouid  have  excluded  her  from  the  privileges  of  an  honourable  pris- 


TUB  TUKA8UUY  OF  HI8T0EY. 


S7a 


oner.  In  her  interference  in  the  deadly  business  of  war  she,  it  is  true,d«- 
parted  front  the  urdinary  usages  of  her  sux ;  but,  except  in  wenring  armour 
und  in  daring  the  actuuldiuigers  of  the  fight,  she  even  in  this  resuoct  only 
followed  the  example  left  to  her  bv  the  countess  of  Mountfort  and  bv  Phi> 
lippa,  queen  of  King  Kdward  of  England.  Tho  gallant  and  tender  feeling 
towards  the  sex,  which  chivalry  made  so  much  tHjast  of,  ouglit  to  have  lea 
Bedford  on  this  account  to  have  treated  her  with  even  more  indulgence  than 
he  would  have  shown  to  an  equally  celebrated  prisoner  of  the  other  sex; 
and  the  more  attentively  we  notice  all  the  rest  of  Bedford's  conduct,  the 
more  difHcult  shall  wo  Hnd  it  to  believe  that  he  could  have  been  guilty  of 
the  baseness  and  cruelty  of  which  we  have  to  speak,  unless  under  the  in- 
fluence of  a  degrading  and  most  powerful  impression  of  superstition.  It 
is,  we  repeat,  very  difficult  for  uh,  living  in  an  age  not  only  free  from  su- 
perstition but  tending  very  strongly  and  very  perilously  towards  the  con- 
trary extreme,  to  imagine  such  a  man  as  Bedford  so  much  deluded  ;  but 
gtill  more  difficult  is  it  to  suppose  that  any  less  powerful  influence  could 
have  made  so  honourable  a  man  guilty  of  a  vile  and  dastardly  cruelty. 

Joan,  being  delivered  into  the  power  of  Bedford,  was  loaded  with  chains 
and  thrown  into  a  dungeon ;  and  the  bishop  of  Dcauvais,  on  the  plea  that 
(the  was  captured  wiilnn  his  diocese,  petitioned  Bedford  that  she  might  be 
delivered  over  to  the  ecclesiastical  power,  to  be  tried  on  the  charges  of 
impiety,  sorcery,  idolatry  and  niagiu ;  and  his  petition  was  seconded  by  the 
university  of  Paris.  To  the  eternal  infamy  of  Bedford,  this  petition  wai 
complied  with ;  and,  loaded  with  irons,  the  high-hearted  and  admirable, 
however  deluded,  woman  was  taken  before  her  judges  at  Rouen,  only  one 
of  them,  the  cardinal  of  Winchester,  being  an  Englishman.  She  defended 
herself  with  courage  and  with  a  cogency  of  reply  equal  to  what  might  be 
expected  from  a  man  who,  to  good  early  training,  should  add  the  practice 
and  experience  of  a  long  life.  Shu  boldly  avowed  the  great  aim  and  end 
of  all  her  public  acts  had  been  to  rid  her  country  of  its  enemies,  the  En- 
glish. When  taunted  with  having  endeavoured  to  escape  by  throwing 
herself  from  a  tower,  she  frankly  confessed  that  she  would  repeat  that  at- 
tempt if  she  had  the  opportunity;  and  when  asked  why  she  put  trust  in  a 
standard  which  had  been  consecrated  by  magical  incantations,  and  why 
she  carried  it  at  the  coronation  of  Charles,  she  replied  that  she  trusted 
not  in  the  standard  but  in  the  Supreme  Being  whose  image  it  bore,  and 
that  the  person  who  had  shared  the  danger  of  Charles's  enterprise  had 
a  just  right  also  to  share  its  glory.  The  horrors  of  solitary  confinemenl, 
and  repeated  exposure  to  the  taunts  and  insults  of  her  persecutors,  at 
length  broke  down  even  the  fine  proud  spirit  of  Joan ;  and,  in  order  to  put 
an  end  to  so  much  torture,  she  at  length  confessed  that  what  she  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  mistaking  for  visions  from  heaven,  must  needs  be  mere 
illusions,  as  they  were  condemned  by  the  church;  and  she  promised  that 
she  would  no  longer  allow  them  to  influence  her  mind.  This  confession 
temporarily  saved  her  just  as  she  was  about  to  be  delivered  over  to  the 
secular  arm;  and,  instead  of  being  forthwith  sentenced  to  .the  stake,  she 
was  sentenced  to  the  comparatively  mild,  though  still  shamefully  unjust, 
punishment  of  perpetual  imprisonment,  with  no  other  diet  than  bread  and 
water. 

Here,  at  all  events,  one  might  have  supposed  that  the  cruel  rage  of 
Joan's  enemies  would  have  stopped ;  for  while  her  imprisonment  rendered 
it  impossible  that  she  should  personally  do  any  farther  damage  to  the  En- 
glish cause,  her  very  detention  and  confession  naturally  tended  to  dis- 
abuse her  warmest  partizans  of  all  further  belief  in  her  alledged  supernat 
ural  inspiration.  But  even  now  that  she  was  a  captive,  and  wholly  pow- 
erless to  injure  them,  her  enemies  were  not  satiated.  Judging,  with  a 
malignant  ingenuity,  that  the  ordinary  habiliments  of  her  sex,  to  which 
iiince  her  capture  she  had  constantly  been  confined,  were  less  agreeabU 


m 


THl  TREASURY  Or  HISTORY. 


to  her  than  the  male  and  martial  attire  in  which  she  had  achieved  io  ma* 
ny  wondera  and  extorted  ao  much  homage,  they  cauaed  a  auit  of  male 
attire  and  appropriate  armour  to  be  placed  within  her  reach.  Aa  had  been 
anticipated,  ao  many  asaociationa  were  awakened  in  her  mind  by  thv 
dreaa,  that  the  temptation  to  put  it  on  wan  quite  irresiatible.  Aa  soon  aa 
ahe  had  donned  the  dreia  her  enemion  runhud  in  upon  her;  thia  m«rH  and 
very  harmleia  vanity  waa  interpreted  into  a  relapse  into  heresy,  and  ahe 
waa  delivered  over  to  the  flamea  in  the  market-place  of  Rouen,  ttiou|{h 
the  sole  crime  ahe  had  committed  waa  that  ahe  had  loved  her  country,  and 
aorved  it. 

A.  D.  1432. — The  brutal  injustice  inflicted  upon  Joan  whom  the  nobler 
deluaiona  of  Greece  and  Rome  would  have  deified  and  worshippod,  by  no 
means  produced  the  striking'  benefit  to  the  English  cause  that  had  been 
anticipated.  The  cause  of  Charles  was  from  rational  reflections  dully 
becoming  more  popular,  and  the  cruelly  of  the  English  served  rather  to 
confirm  than  to  diminish  that  tendency;  while  a  aeriea  of  successci  on 
the  part  of  the  French  followed  as  a  matter  of  course. 

Tne  death  of  the  duchess  of  Bedford  very  much  weakened  the  attach- 
ment of  her  brother,  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  both  to  Bedford  personally 
and  in  (general  to  the  English  cause :  and  the  coolness  which  followed  this 
event  waa  still  farther  increased  when  Bedford  very  shortly  afterwards 
espoused  Jacqueline  of  Luxembourg.    Philip,  not  without  reason,  com- 

Elained  that  there  was  a  want  of  decent  regard  to  his  sister's  memory  ex- 
ibited  in  so  hasty  a  contract  of  a  new  marriage,  and  that  a  personal 
affront  was  oflferea  to  himself  by  this  matrimonial  alliance  without  any 
intimation  of  it  being  given  to  him. 

Sensible  how  serious  an  injury  the  continued  coolness  between  these 
princes  must  inflict  upon  the  English  cause,  the  cardinal  of  Winchester 
offered  himself  aa  a  mediator  between  them,  and  a  meeting  was  appointed 
at  St.  Omer's.  Both  Bedford  and  Burgundy  went  to  that  town,  which  was 
in  the  dominions  of  the  latter ;  and  Bedford  expected  that,  as  he  had  thus 
far  waved  etiquette,  the  duke  of  Burgundy  would  pay  him  the  first  visit. 
Philip  declined  doing  so;  and  upon  this  idle  piece  of  mere  ceremony  they 
both,  without  a  single  inrerview,  left  a  town  to  which  they  both  professed 
to  have  gone  with  the  sole  intent  of  meeting  and  becoming  reconciled. 
So  great  ia  the  effiect  of  idle  custom  upon  even  the  wise  and  the  powerful ! 

This  new  cause  of  discontent  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy  happened  the 
more  untowardly,  because  it  greatly  tended  to  confirm  him  in  his  inclina- 
tion to  a  reconciliation  with  King  Charles.  That  prince  and  his  friends 
had  made  all  possible  apology  to  the  duke  on  account  of  the  murder  of  the 
late  duke  his  father  ;  and  as  a  desire  for  the  revenge  of  that  murder  had 
been  Philip's  chief  reason  for  allying  himself  with  England,  the  more  that 
reason  became  diminished,  the  more  Burgundy  inclined  to  reflect  upon 
the  impolicy  of  his  aiding  to  place  foes  and  foreigners  upon  the  throne 
which,  failing  in  the  elder  French  branches,  might  descend  to  his  own  pos- 
terity. 

A.  D.  1435. — These  reflections,  and  the  constant  urging  of  the  most  emi- 
nent men  in  Europe,  including  his  brother-in-law,  the  duke  of  Bourbon 
and  the  count  de  Richemont,  so  far  prevailed  with  Burgundy,  that  he  con- 
sented to  attend  a  congress  appointed  to  meet  at  Arras,  at  which  it  was 
proposed  that  deputies  from  the  pope  and  the  council  of  Balse  should 
mediate  between  King  Charles  and  the  English.  The  duke  of  Burgundy, 
the  duke  of  Bourbon,  the  count  of  Richemont,  the  cardinal  of  Winches- 
ter, the  bishops  of  Norwich  and  St.  David's,  and  the  earls  of  Suffolk  and 
Huntingdon,  with  several  other  eminent  persons,  met  accordingly  at 
Arras  and  had  conferences  in  the  abbey  of  St.  Vaast.  On  the  part  oi 
France  the  ambassadors  offered  the  cession  of  Guienne  and  Norman- 
iyt  not  in  free  sovereignty,  but  only  aa  feudal  fiefs;  on  the  part  of  Fng 


THI  TaiASUBY  Or  HISTORY. 


con- 
was 
should 
fundy, 
iches- 
Ikand 
jly  at 
art  ol 
rman- 
Fng 


kand,  whoie  prior  claim  wis  upon  the  whole  of  France  u  rightful  pos- 
•eiaion  and  free  aovereignty,  this  offer  teemed  to  iimall  aa  to  tie  wholly 
unworthy  of  any  detailed  couiiter-oflTer ;  and  though  the  mediators  de- 
clared the  original  claim  of  Kiigland  preposlvroualy  unjust,  the  cardinal 
of  Winchester  and  the  other  Kngliah  authorities  de|)arted  without  any  do> 
tailed  explanation  of  their  wishes,  but  obviously  dissatisAud  and  inclined  to 
periievere  in  their  original  design.  The  negotiation  as  between  France 
and  Kngland  being  thus  abruptly  brought  to  an  end,  the  reconciliation  of 
('harles  and  the  duke  of  Burgundy  alone  remained  to  be  attempted  by  the 
mediators.    As  the  provocation  originally  given  to  Burgundy  was  very 

![reat,  and  as  the  present  importance  of  hia  friendaliip  to  Charlea  was  con- 
essedly  of  great  value,  so  were  his  demands  numerous  and  weighty. 
Besides  several  other  considerable  territories,  Charles  ceded  all  the 
towns  of  Picardy  situated  between  the  Low  Countries  and  the  Somme, 
all  of  which,  as  well  as  the  proper  dominions  of  the  duke,  were  to  be  held 
bv  him  during  his  life,  without  his  either  doing  homage  or  swearing  fealty  to 
Cfharles,  who,  in  pledge  of  his  sincerity  in  the  making  of  this  treaty,  solemn- 
ly released  his  subjects  from  all  allegiance  to  him  should  he  ever  violate  it. 
Willing  to  break  with  England  with  all  due  regard  to  the  externals  of 
civility,  the  duke  of  Burgundy  sent  a  herald  to  London  to  notify  and 
apologize  for  this  treaty,  which  was  directly  opposed  to  that  of  Troyes, 
of  which  he  had  so  long  been  the  zealous  and  powerful  defender.  Ilia 
messenger  was  very  coldly  listened  toby  the  Knglish  council,  and  point- 
edly insulted  by  having  lodgings  assigned  to  him  in  the  house  of  a  mean 
tradesman.  The  populace,  too,  were  encouraged  to  insult  the  subjects 
of  Philip  who  chanced  to  be  visiting  or  resident  in  London ;  and,  wi:  .  the 
usual  cruel  willingness  of  the  mob  to  show  their  hatred  of  foreigners,  they 
in  some  cases  carried  their  violence  to  the  extent  of  murder. 

This  conduct  was  as  impolitic  as  it  was  disgraceful,  for  it  not  only 
sharpened  Philip's  new  zeal  for  France,  but  also  furnished  him  with  that 
plea  which  he  needed,  not  only  for  the  world  but  also  for  his  own  con- 
science, for  his  sudden  and  complete  abandonment  of  his  alliance  with  the 
English.  Almost  at  the  same  time  that  England  was  deprived  of  the  powerful 
support  of  Burgundy,  she  experienced  two  other  very  heavy  losses,  the  duke 
of  Bedford  dying  of  disease  a  few  days  after  he  had  tidings  of  the  treaty 
of  Arras,  and  the  earl  of  Arundel  dying  of  wounds  received  in  a  battle 
where  he,  with  three  thousand  men,  was  totally  defeated  by  Xaintrailles  at 
the  bead  of  only  six  hundred. 

A.  D.  1436. — As  in  private  so  in  public  affairs,  misfortunes  ever  come  in 
shoals.  Just  as  England  required  the  most  active  and  most  disinterested 
exertions  on  the  part  of  those  to  whom  Bedford's  death  had  left  tne  direc- 
tion of  affairs,  the  dissensions  which  had  long  existed  between  Ihe  cardinal 
of  Winchester  and  the  duke  of  Gloucester  grew  so  violent,  that  in  their 
personal  quarrel  the  foreign  interests  of  the  king  and  kingdom  seemed 
to  be  for  the  time,  at  least,  entirely  lost  sight  of.  A  regent  of  France  was 
appointed,  indeed,  as  successor  to  Bedford,  in  the  person  of  the  duke  oi 
York,  son  of  that  earl  of  Cambridge  who  was  executed  early  in  the  pre- 
ceding reign ;  but  owing  to  the  dissensions  above-mentioned,  his  commis- 
sion was  left  unsealed  for  seven  months  after  his  appointment,  and  the 
English  in  France  were,  of  course,  during  that  long  and  critical  period 
rirtually  left  without  a  governor.  The  consequence,  as  might  have  been 
anticipated,  was,  that  wnen  he  at  length  was  enabled  to  proceed  to  his  post, 
Paris  was  lost ;  the  inhabitants,  who  had  all  along,  even  by  Bedford,  been 
only  with  difficulty  prevented  from  rising  in  favour  of  Charles,  having 
seized  this  favourable  opportunity  to  do  so ;  and  Lord  Willoughby,  with 
fifteen  hundred  men,  after  a  brave  attempt  first  to  preserve  the  city  and 
then  to  maintain  themselves  in  the  Bastile,  was  at  length  reduced  to  such 
distress,  that  he  was  glad  to  capitulate  on  permission  to  withdraw  hi« 
troops  into  Normandy. 


S76 


THE  T&BASURY  OF  HI8T0EY. 


Resolved  that  his  enmity  to  England  should  not  long  be  without  oat* 
ward  demonstrations,  the  duke  of  Burgundy  raised  an  immense  buthelero- 
geneous  and  ill-disciplined  army  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  proceeded  to 
invest  Calais,  which  was  now  the  most  important  territory  the  English 
had  in  France.  The  duke  of  Gloucester,  as  soon  as  the  tidings  reached 
England,  raised  an  army  and  sent  a  personal  defiance  to  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, whom  he  challenged  to  remain  before  Calais  until  the  weathei 
would  permit  the  English  to  face  him  there. 

Partly  from  the  evident  terror  which  Gloucester's  high  tone  struck  into 
the  Flemings,  and  partly  from  the  decided  ill  success  which  attended  two 
or  three  partial  attempts  which  Burgundy  had  already  made  upon  Calais, 
that  prince,  instead  of  waiting  for  Gloucester's  arrival,  raised  the  siege 
and  retreated. 

A.  D.  1440. — For  five  years  the  war  was  confined  to  petty  enterprises  oi 
surprising  convoys  and  taking  and  re-taking  towns.  But  though  these 
enterprises  had  none  of  the  brilliancy  of  more  regular  and  sustained  war, 
they  were  to  the  utmost  degree  mischievous  to  both  the  contending  par- 
ties and  the  unfortunate  inhabitants.  More  blood  was  shed  in  these  name- 
less and  indecisive  rencontres  than  would  have  sufficed  for  a  Cressy  or  an 
Agincourt ;  and  the  continual  presence  of  numerous  and  ruthless  spoilers 
rendered  the  husbandman  both  unable  and  unwilling  to  sow  for  that  har« 
vest  which  it  was  so  improbable  that  he  would  ever  be  permitted  to  reap. 
To  such  a  warfare  both  the  contending  parties  at  length  showed  them- 
selves willing  to  put  an  end,  and  a  treaty  was  commenced  for  that  pur- 
pose. France,  as  before,  ofTered  to  cede  Normandy,  Guienne,  and  Calais 
to  England  as  feudal  fiefs ;  England,  on  the  other  hand,  demanded  the 
cession  of  all  the  provinces  which  had  once  been  annexed  to  England,  in- 
cluding the  final  cession  of  Calais,  without  any  feudal  burden  or  observ- 
ances whatever.  The  treaty  was  consequently  broken  off,  and  the  war 
was  still  carried  on  in  the  same  petty  bur.  destructive  manner ;  though  a 
truce  was  made  as  between  England  and  the  duke  of  Burgundy. 

For  a  long  time  after  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  England  had  possessed  a 
great  advantage  in  all  affairs  with  France,  from  the  captivity  of  the  royal 

Crinces,  five  in  number,  who  were  made  prisoners  at  that  battle.  Death 
ad  now  very  materially  diminished  this  advantage;  only  the  duke  of  Or- 
leans surviving  out  of  the  whole  five.  This  prince  now  offered  the  large 
ransom  of  fifty-four  thousand  nobles,  and  his  proposal — like  all  public  ques- 
tions at  tliis  period — was  made  matter  of  factious  dispute  between  the 
partizans  of  the  cardinal  of  Winchester  and  those  of  the  duke  of  Glouces- 
ter. The  latter  urged  the  rejection  of  the  proposal  of  Orleans,  on  the 
ground  that  the  late  king  had  on  his  death-bed  advised  that  no  one  of  the 
French  princes  should  on  any  account  be  released,  until  his  son  should  be 
of  age  to  govern  the  kingdom  in  his  own  person.  The  cardinal,  on  the 
other  hand,  expatiated  on  the  largeness  of  the  offered  ransom,  and  drew 
the  attention  of  the  council  to  the  remarkable  and  unquestionable  fact, 
that  the  sum  offered  was,  in  truth,  very  nearly  equal  to  two-thirds  of  all 
the  extraordinary  supplies  which  the  parliament  had  granted  for  the  pub- 
lie  service  during  the  current  seven  years.  To  this  solid  argument  of  pe- 
cuniary matter-of-fact  he  added  the  plausible  argument  or  speculation, 
that  the  liberation  of  Orleans,  far  from  being  advantageous  to  the  French 
cause,  would  be  of  direct  and  signal  injury  to  it,  by  giving  to  the  French 
malcontents,  whom  Charles  already  had  much  difficulty  in  keeping  down, 
an  ambitious  and  prominent  as  well  as  capable  leader. 

The  arguments  of  the  cardinal  certainly  seem  to  deserve  more  weight 
than  the  wishes  of  a  deceased  king,  who,  however  politic,  could  when 
giving  his  advice  have  formed  no  notion  of  the  numerous  changes  of  cir- 
cumstaiices  which  had  since  taken  place,  and  which,  most  probably 
would  have  caused  him  very  considerably  to  modify  his  opinion.    It  was 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


37T 


however,  owing  Irss  to  the  superiority  or  his  advice  than  of  his  influence 
that  the  cardinal  gained  his  point,  and  that  the  duke  of  Orleans  was  re- 
leased after  a  captivity  of  nve-and-twenty  years,  tho  duke  of  Burgundy 
generously  assisting  him  in  the  payment  of  his  very  heavy  ransom. 

A.  D.  1444. — However  acquired,  the  influence  of  the  cardinal  was  un- 
questionably well  and  wisely  exerted  in  the  aflfair  above  described;  and 
he  now,  though  with  less  perfect  success,  exerted  it  to  a  still  more  impor- 
tant end.  He  had  long  encouraged  every  attempt  at  peace-making  be- 
tween France  and  England,  and  he  now  urged  upon  the  council  the 
impo8sibilit}r  of  a  complete  conquest  of  France,  and  the  great  difliculty  of 
even  maintaining  the  existing  English  power  there  while  Normandy  was 
in  disorder,  the  French  king  daily  gaining  some  advantage,  the  English 
parliament  so  incurably  reluctant  to  grant  supplies.  He  urged  that  it 
would  be  far  better  to  make  peace  now  than  when  some  new  advantage 
should  make  the  French  kmg  still  more  unyielding  and  exigeant  in  his 
humour;  and  his  arguments,  based  alike  upon  humane  motives  and  facts 
which  lay  upon  the  very  surface,  prevailed  with  the  council.  The  duke 
of  Gloucester,  indeed,  accustomed  to  consider  France  the  natural  battle- 
ground and  certain  conquest  of  England,  opposed  the  paciflc  views  of  the 
cardinal  with  all  the  violence  arising  from  such  haughty  prepossessions 
increased  by  his  fixed  hatred  of  witnessing  the  triumph  of  any  proposal 
made  by  the  cardinal.  The  latter,  however,  was  too  completely  in  the 
ascendant  to  allow  Gloucester's  opposition  to  be  of  any  avail,  and  the  earl 
of  Suffolk  was  sent  to  Tours  wiv.h  proposals  for  peace.  The  pretensions 
of  the  two  parties  were  still  tf-o  wide  asunder  to  admit  of  a  permanent 
peace  being  concluded  ;  but  as  the  earl  of  Suffolk  was  in  earnest,  and  as 
the  dreadful  state  to  which  most  of  Charles's  territories  were  reduced  by 
the  long-continued  war  made  some  respite  of  great  importance  to  his  sub- 
jects, as  well  as  to  his  more  personal  interests,  it  was  easily  agreed  that 
a  truce  should  take  place  for  twenty-two  months,  each  party  as  to  terri- 
tory remaining  as  it  then  was. 

As  Henry  of  England  had  now  reached  the  mature  age  of  twenty-three, 
this  truce  afforded  the  English  ministers  opportunity  and  leisure  to  look 
around  among  the  neighbouring  princesses  for  a  suitable  queen  for  him. 
To  all  the  usual  difficulties  of  such  cases  a  serious  one  was  added  by  the 
extremely  simple,  weak,  and  passive  nature  of  Henry.  Without  talent 
and  without  energy,  it  was  clear  to  every  one  that  this  prince  would  reign 
well  or  ill,  exactly  as  he  fell  under  the  influence  of  a  princess  of  good  or 
bad  disposition.  Easily  attached,  he  was  as  easily  governed  through  his 
attachments;  and  each  faction  was  consequently  possessed  with  the 
double  anxiety  of  marrying  him  well,  as  to  itself  in  the  first  place  and  as 
to  the  nation  in  the  next.  The  first  princess  proposed  was  a  daughter  of 
the  count  de  Armagnac  ;  but  as  she  was  proposed  by  the  duke  of  Glou- 
cester, the  predominant  faction  of  the  cardinal  at  once  rejected  her,  and 
proposed  Margaret  of  Anjou,  daughter  of  Regnier,  the  titular  king  of  Sicily, 
Naples,  and  Jerusalem,  whose  real  worldly  possessions,  however,  were  in 
exactly  inverse  ratio  to  his  magnificent  and  sounding  titles. 

Margaret  of  Anjou,  notwithstanding  her  poverty,  had  personal  qualities, 
independent  of  mere  beauty,  though  she  excelled  even  in  that,  which  made 
her  indeed  a  promising  queen  for  a  prince  who,  like  the  weak  and  almost 
childish  Henry,  required  not  a  burden  but  a  support  in  the  person  vf  his 
wife.  She  had  great  and,  for  that  age,  very  highly  cultivated  talentJi,  and 
her  courage,  sagacity,  and  love  of  enterprise  were  such  as  are  seldom  found 
in  their  highest  perfection  even  in  the  other  sex.  Her  own  high  qualities 
and  the  strong  advocacy  o'"  .he  cardinal  caused  Margaret  to  be  selected,  in 
spite  of  all  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester;  and  Suffolk 
was  entrusted  with  the  important  business  of  negotiating  the  marriage. 
In  this  important  negotiation  Suffolk  proved  that  his  party  had  by  iiu  means 


378 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


overrated  either  his  tact  or  his  zeal.  Notwithstanding  the  hieh  personal 
qualities  of  Margaret,  it  could  not  be  concealed  that  she  was  the  daughter 
of  a  house  far  too  poor  to  offer  any  dowry  to  such  a  monarch  as  the  king 
of  England ;  and  yet  Suffolk,  desirous  to  prepossess  the  future  queen  to 
the  utmost  in  favour  of  himself  and  his  party,  overlooking  altogether  the 
poverty  from  which  the  princess  was  to  be  raised  by  her  marriage,  con- 
sented to  the  insertion  of  a  secret  article  in  the  treaty,  by  which  the  prov. 
ince  of  Maine  was  ceded  to  her  uncle,  Charles  of  Anjou,  prime  ministei 
and  favourite  of  the  king  of  France,  who  had  previously  made  Charles  the 
grant  of  that  province— only  the  grant  was  conditional  upon  the  wresting 
of  the  province  from  the  English  who  at  present  possessed  it- 
Had  any  member  of  the  Gloucester  faction  been  guilty  of  this  impu- 
dently politic  and  dexterous  sacrifice  of  his  country's  interest,  he  would 
undoubtedly  have  been  impeached  and  ruined  for  his  pains ;  but  it  is  most 
probable  that  Suffolk  had  in  secret  the  concurrence  of  the  cardinal,  for  the 
treaty  was  received  in  England  and  ratified  as  though  it  had  secured  some 
vast  territorial  advantage  ;  and  Suffolk  was  not  only  created  first  a  mar- 
quis and  then  a  duke,  but  also  honoured  with  the  formal  thanks  of  parlia- 
ment for  the  ability  he  had  displayed. 

.As  the  cardinal  and  his  party  had  calculated,  Margaret  as  soon  as  she 
came  to  England  fell  into  close  and  cordial  connection  with  them,  and  gave 
so  much  increase  and  solid  support  to  the  already  overgrown,  though  hith- 
erto well  exerted,  authority  of  Winchester  himself,  that  he  now  deemed 
it  safe  to  attempt  what  he  had  long  desired,  the  final  ruin  of  the  duke  of 
Gloucester. 

A.  D.  1447. — The  malignity  with  which  the  cardinal's  party  hated  the 
duke  of  Gloucester  abundantly  shows  itself  in  the  treatment  which,  to 
wound  him  in  his  tenderest  affections,  they  had  already  bestowed  upon  his 
duchess.  Slic  was  accused  of  the  impossible,  but  at  that  time  universally 
credited,  crime  of  witchcraft,  and  of  having,  in  conjunction  with  Sir  Roger 
Bolingbroke  and  Margery  .Torddn,  melted  a  figure  of  the  king  before  a  slow 
iire,  with  magical  incantations  intended  to  cause  his  natural  body  to  con- 
sume away  simultaneously  with  his  waxen  efiigy.  Upon  this  preposter- 
ous charge  the  duchess  and  her  alledged  confederates  were  found  guilty; 
and  she  was  condemned  publicly  to  do  penance,  her  less  illustrious  fellow- 
sufferers  being  executed. 

The  duke  of  Gloucester,  though  noted  for  his  hasty  temper  and  some- 
what misproud  sentiments,  was  yet  very  popular  on  account  of  his  candour 
and  general  humanity ;  and  this  shameful  treatment  of  his  duchess,  though 
committed  upon  what  we  may  term  the  popular  charge  of  witchcraft,  was 
very  ill  taken  by  the  people,  who  plainly  avowed  their  sympathy  with  the 
sufferer  and  their  indignation  against  her  persecutors. 

The  popular  feeling  for  once  was  well  founded  as  well  as  humane ;  but 
as  the  cardinal's  party  feared  that  the  sympathy  that  was  expressed  might 
soon  shape  itself  into  deeds,  it  was  now  resolved  to  put  the  unfortunate 
duke  beyond  the  power  of  doing  or  causing  mischief.  A  parliament  was 
accordingly  summoned  to  meet ;  and,  lest  the  popularity  of  the  duke  in 
London  should  cause  any  obstruction  to  the  fell  designs  of  his  enemies, 
the  place  of  meeting  was  St.  Edmund's  Bury.  The  duke  arrived  there 
without  any  suspicion  of  the  mischief  that  was  in  store  for  him,  and  was 
immediately  accused  before  the  parliament  of  high  treason.  Upon  this 
charge  he  was  committed  to  prison,  and  shortly  afterwards  was  found 
there  dead  in  his  bed.  It  is  true  that  his  body  was  publicly  exposed,  and 
that  no  marks  of  violence  could  be  detected ;  but  the  same  thing  had  oc- 
curred in  the  cases  of  Thomas  of  Woodstock,  duke  of  Gloucester,  Richard 
the  Second,  and  Edward  the  Second,  yet  does  any  reader  of  sane  mind 
doubt  that  they  were  murdered  ?  Or  can  any  such  reader  doubt  that  this 
unfortunate  prince  was  murdered,  too.  his  enemies  fearing  that  his  publio 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


379 


execution,  thoui^h  the  servility  of  the  parliament  would  have  surely  sane* 
tioned  it,  miiof^  ";  dangerous  to  their  own  interests?  The  death  of  the 
duke  did  w.,  ent  certain  of  his  suite,  who  were  accused  of  being  ac> 
complicee  of .  i  alledged  treasons,  from  being  tried,  condemned,  and  par- 
tially exccutto  We  say  partially  executed,  because  these  unfortunate 
men,  who  were  ordered  to  be  hanged  and  quartered,  were  actually  hanged, 
preparatory  to  the  more  brutal  part  of  the  sentence  being  executed ;  but 
just  as  they  were  cut  down  and  the  executioners  preparing  to  perform  their 
more  revolting  task,  orders  arrived  for  that  part  of  the  sentence  to  be  re- 
mitted, and  surgical  means  to  be  taken  for  the  resuscitation  of  the  victims. 
And  this  was  actually  done. 

The  unhappy  prince  who  thus  fell  a  victim  to  the  raging  ambition  of  the 
cardinars  party  was  a  scholar  and  a  man  of  intellect,  far  superior  to  the 
rude  age  in  which  he  lived.  Sir  Thomas  More  gives  a  striking  though 
whimsical  instance  of  his  acuteness  of  judgment.  The  duke  while  riding 
out  one  day  chanced  upon  a  crowd  which  had  gathered  round  an  impostor 
who  alledged  that  he,  having  been  blind  from  his  birth,  had  just  then  ob- 
tained  his  sight  by  touching  the  then  famous  shrine  of  St.  Albans.  The 
duke,  whose  learning  enabled  him  to  see  through  and  to  despise  the  monk- 
tsh  impostures  which  found  such  ready  acceptance  with  the  multitude, 
high  as  well  as  low,  condescended  to  ask  this  vagrant  several  questions, 
and,  by  way  of  testing  his  story,  desired  him  to  name  the  colours  of  the 
cloaks  of  the  bystanders.  Not  perceiving  the  trap  that  was  laid  for  him, 
the  fellow  answered  with  all  the  readiness  of  a  clothier  commending  his 
wares,  when  the  duke  replied,  "You  are  a  very  knave,  man;  had  you 
been  born  blind,  though  a  miracle  had  given  you  sight,  it  could  not  thus 
early  have  taught  you  accurately  to  distinguish  between  colours,"  and,  rid- 
ing away,  he  gave  orders  that  the  flagrant  impostor  should  be  set  in  the 
nearest  stocks  as  an  example. 

It  was  generally  considered  that  the  queen,  whose  masculine  nature  bad 
already  given  her  great  weight  in  the  dominant  party,  had  at  least  tacitly 
consented  to  the  murder  of  the  unfortunate  Gloucester.  This  probable 
supposition  had  caused  her  considerable  unpopularity,  and  a  circumstance 
now  occurred  by  which  the  ill  opinion  of  the  people  was  much  aggravated. 
It  would  seem  that  that  article  of  Margaret's  marriage  settlement  which 
ceded  Maine  to  her  uncle  was  kept  secret  during  the  life  of  the  duke  of 
Gloucester,  to  whose  opposition  to  the  cardinaPs  party  it  would  of  neces- 
sity have  given  additional  weight.  But  the  court  of  France  now  became 
80  urgent  for  its  immediate  performance,  that  King  Henry  was  induced 
by  Margaret  and  the  ministers  to  despatch  an  autograph  order  to  the  gov- 
ernor of  Mans,  the  capital  of  that  province,  to  give  up  that  place  to  Charles 
of  Anjou.  The  governor,  Sir  Francis  Surienne,  strongly  interested  in 
keeping  his  post,  and  probably  forming  a  shrewd  judgment  of  the  manner 
in  which  the  king  had  been  induced  to  make  such  an  order,  flatly  refused 
to  obey  it,  and  a  French  army  was  forthwith  led  to  the  siege  of  the  place 
by  the  celebrated  Dunois.  Even  then  Surienne  ventured  to  hold  out,  but 
being  wholly  left  without  succour  from  Normandy,  where  the  duke  of 
Somerset  had  forces,  he  was  at  length  obliged  to  capitulate,  and  to  give 
up  not  only  Mans  but  the  whole  province,  which  thus  ingloriously  was 
transferred  from  England  to  Charles  of  Anjou. 

A.  D.  1448. — The  ill  effects  of  the  disgraceful  secret  article  did  not  stop 
here.  Surienne,  on  being  suffered  to  depart  from  Mans,  had  two  thousand 
Sve  hundred  men  with  him,  whom  he  led  into  Normandy,  naturally  ex- 
pecting to  be  attached  to  the  force  of  the  duke  of  Somerset.  But  the  duke, 
straitened  in  means,  and  therefore  unwilling  to  have  so  large  an  addition 
to  the  multitude  that  already  depended  upon  him,  and  being,  besides,  of 
the  cardinal's  faction,  and  therefore  angry  at  the  disobedience  of  Surienne 
>n  the  orders  of  the  king,  would  not  receive  him.    Thus  suddenly  and  eii- 


360 


THE  TBJiASUaY  OF  HISTOaY. 


tirely  thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  Surienne,  acting  on  the  maxima 
common  to  the  soldiery  of  his  time,  resolved  to  make  war  upon  his  own 
account ;  and  as  cither  the  king  of  England  or  the  king  of  France  would 
be  too  potent  and  dangerous  a  foe,  he  resolved  to  attack  the  duke  of  Brit- 
tany. He  accordingly  marched  his  daring  and  destitute  band  into  that 
country,  ravaged  it  m  every  direction,  possessed  himself  of  the  town  of 
Fougeres,  and  repaired,  for  his  defence,  the  dilapidated  fortresses  of  Pou- 
torson  and  St.  Jacques  de  Beavron.  The  duke  of  Brittany  naturally  ap. 
pealed  for  redress  to  his  liege  lord,  the  king  of  France ;  and  Charles,  glad 
of  an  opportunity  to  fasten  a  plausible  quarrel  upon  England,  paid  no  at- 
tention to  Somerset's  disavowal  alike  of  connection  with  the  adventurer 
Surienne  and  control  over  his  actions,  but  demanded  compensation  for 
the  duke  of  Brittany,  and  put  the  granting  of  that  compensation  wholly  out 
of  the  question  by  fixing  it  at  the  preposterously  large  amount  of  one  mil- 
lion six  hundred  crowns. 

A.  D.  1449. — Payment  of  this  sum  was,  m  truth,  the  very  last  thing  that 
Charles  would  have  desired.  He  had  most  ably  employed  himself  during 
the  truce  for  a  renewal  of  war  at  its  expiration,  or  sooner,  should  fortune 
favour  him  with  an  advantageous  opening.  While  he  had  been  thus  em- 
ployed, England  had  been  daily  growing  weaker;  faction  dividing  the 
court  and  g:overnment,  and  poverty  and  suffering  rendering  the  people  more 
and  more  indifferent  to  foreign  wars  and  conquests,  however  brilliant. 
Under  such  circumstances  Charles  gladly  seized  upon  the  wrong  dune  to 
the  duke  of  Brittany  by  a  private  adventurer  as  an  excuse  for  invading 
Normandy,  which  he  suddenly  entered  on  four  diflferent  points  with  as 
many  well-appointed  armies,  under  the  command,  respectively,  of  Charles 
in  person,  the  duke  of  Brittany,  the  duke  of  Alen^on,  and  the  count  of 
Dunois.  So  sudden  was  the  irruption  of  Charles,  and  so  completely  un- 
prepared were  the  Norman  garrisons  to  resist  him,  that  the  French  had 
only  to  appear  before  a  place  to  cause  its  surrender ;  and  they  at  once, 
and  at  the  mere  expense  of  marching,  obtained  possession  of  Verneuil, 
Noyent,  Chateau  Gailiard,  Ponteau  de  Mer,  Gisors,  Nantes,  Vernon,  Ar- 
gentau,  Lisieux,  Fecamp,  Coutances,  Belesine,  and  Feurt  de  L^Vrche,  an 
extent  of  territory  which  had  cost  the  English  incalculable  expense  of 
both  blood  and  treasure. 

Thus  suddenly  and  formidably  beset,  the  duke  of  Somerset,  governor 
of  Normandy,  found  it  utterly  useless  to  endeavour  to  check  the  enemy 
in  the  field ;  so  far  from  being  able  to  raise  even  one  numerous  army  for 
that  purpose,  his  force  was  too  scanty  even  to  supply  sufficient  garrisons ; 
and  yet,  scanty  as  it  was,  far  too  numerous  for  his  still  more  limited 
means  of  subsisting  it.  He  consequently  threw  himself  with  such  force 
as  he  could  immediately  command  into  Rouen,  hoping  that  he  might 
maintain  himself  there  until  assistance  could  be  sent  to  him  from  Eng- 
land. But  Charles  allowed  no  time  for  the  arrival  of  such  aid,  but  present- 
ed himself  with  an  army  of  fifty  thousand  men  at  the  very  gates  of  Rouen. 
The  inhabitants,  already  disaflfected  to  the  English,  now  became  driven 
to  desperation  by  their  dread  of  the  severities  of  the  French,  and  tumul- 
tuously  demanded  that  Somerset  should  instantly  capitulate  in  order  to 
save  them.  Thus  assailed  within  as  well  as  from  without,  Somerset  led 
his  troops  into  the  castle,  but  finding  it  untenable  he  was  at  length  obliged 
to  yield  it,  and  to  purchase  permission  to  retire  to  Harfleur  by  surrender- 
ing Arques,  Tancarville,  Honfleur,  and  several  other  places  in  higher 
Normandy,  agreeing  to  pay  the  sunt  of  fifty-six  thousand  crowns,  and  de- 
livering hostages  for  the  faithful  performance  of  the  articles.  Among 
the  hostages  was  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  the  ablest  English  general  in 
France,  who  was  now  condemned  to  detention  and  inactivity  at  the  very 
momcn.  when  his  services  were  the  most  needed,  by  the  positive  refusal 
of  the  governor  of  Honfleur  to  give  up  that  place  at  the  order  of  Som* 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


381 


rrset.  llonfleur  also  gave  a  refusal,  but,  after  a  smart  defence  by  Sii 
Thomas  Curson,  was  at  length  compelled  to  open  its  gates  to  the  French 
under  Dunois. 

Succour  at  lenpth  arrived  from  England,  iut  only  to  the  very  insufficient 
number  of  four  thousand  men,  who  soon  after  they  landed  were  com- 
Dletely  defeated  at  Fourmigni  by  the  count  of  Clermont.  Somerset,  who 
had  retired  to  Oaen  in  hope  of  aid,  had  now  no  choice  but  to  surrender. 
Palaise  was  given  up  in  exchange  for  the  liberty  of  the  earl  of  Shrewt< 
bury;  and  juHt  one  year  after  Charles's  first  irruption  into  Normandy,  the 
very  last  possession  of  the  English  in  that  province,  the  important  town 
of  Cherbourg  was  surrendered. 

In  Guienne  the  like  rapid  progress  was  made  by  the  French  under  Du- 
nois, who  encountered  but  little  difficulty  even  from  the  strongest  towns, 
his  artillery  being  of  a  very  superior  description.  Bourdeaux  and  Ba- 
yonne  made  a  brave  attempt  at  holding  out,  but  no  assistance  being  sent 
to  them  from  England,  they  also  were  compelled  to  submit;  and  the 
whole  province  of  Guienne  was  thus  reunited  to  France  after  it  had  been 
held  and  battled  for  by  the  English  for  three  hundred  years.  A  faint 
effbrt  was  subsequently  made,  indeed,  to  recover  Guienne,  but  it  was  so 
faint  that  it  utterly  failed,  and  war  between  England  and  France  ceased 
as  if  by  mutual  consent,  and  without  any  formal  treaty  of  peace  or  even 
fruce. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 
THE  RcioN  or  HENRT  VI.  {coTicluded.) 

A.  D.  1450. — The  affairs  of  England  were  as  threatening  at  home  as 
they  were  disastrous  abroad.  The  court  and  the  ministerial  factions 
gave  rise  to  a  thousand  disorders  among  the  people,  besides  habituating 
them  to  the  complacent  anticipation  of  disorders  still  more  extreme  and 
general ;  and  it  was  now  only  too  well  known  that  the  king,  by  whom 
both  factions  might  otherwise  have  been  kept  in  awe,  was  Ihe  mere  and 
unresisting  tool  of  those  by  whom  he  chanced  to  be  surrounded.  To 
add  to  the  general  distress,  the  cessation  of  the  war  in  France,  or,  to 
speak  more  plainly,  the  ignominious  expulsion  of  the  English  from  that 
country,  had  filled  England  with  hordes  of  able  and  needy  men,  accus- 
tomed to  war,  and  ready,  for  the  mere  sake  of  plunder,  to  follow  any  ban- 
ner and  support  any  cause.  A  cause  for  the  civil  war  which  these  needy 
desperadoes  so  ardently  desired  soon  appeared  in  the  pretensions  to  the 
crown  put  forward  by  Richard,  duke  of  York.  Descended  by  his  motiier 
from  the  only  daughter  of  the  duke  of  Clarence,  second  son  of  Edward  III., 
the  duke  claimed  to  stand  before  King  Henry,  who  was  descended  from 
the  duke  of  Lancaster,  the  third  son  of  Edward  III.  His  claim  being 
thus  cogent,  and  he  being  a  brave  and  capable  man,  immensely  rich  and 
connected  with  numerous  noble  families,  including  the  most  potent  of 
them  all,  that  of  the  earl  of  Westmoreland,  whose  daughter  he  had  mar- 
ried, he  could  not  fail  to  be  a  most  formidable  opponent  to  so  weak  and 
incapable  a  king  as  Henry ;  and  the  daily  increasing  disorders,  sufferings 
and  discontents  of  the  nation,  promised  ere  long  to  afford  him  all  the 
opportunity  he  could  require  of  pressing  his  claim  with  advantage. 

Though  parliament  and  the  people  at  large  were  unwilling  to  make  any 
gacritices  for  the  defence  of  the  foreign  interests  of  the  nation,  and  could 
not  or  would  not  understand  that  much  more  exertion  and  expense  are 
often  necessary  to  preserve  than  to  make  conquests,  they  were  not  a  jot 
the  less  enraged  at  the  losses  in  France,  which,  though  they  mainly  orig- 
nated  in  the  cession  of  Maine  to  Charles  of  Anjou,  were  consummated 


389 


THE  TRBASUBY  07  HISTORY. 


through  the  rigid  parsimony  which  withheld  iiupplies  and  reinforcements 
when  they  were  actually  indispensable.  The  cession  of  Maine  to  Charles 
of  Anjou,  coupled  with  his  fast  friendship  to  the  king  of  France  and  his 
uctive  exertions  in  that  prince's  interest,  persuaded  the  English  people 
that  their  queen  was  their  enemy  at  heart,  and  that  her  influence  in  the 
Knglish  council  was  a  chief  cause  of  their  disgrace  and  loss.  Already 
the  partisans  of  the  duke  of  York  busied  themselves  in  preparing  to  kin- 
dle a  civil  war ;  and  already  the  murder  of  Gloucester  began  to  be  avenged 
upon  its  authors,  not  merely  in  the  bitterness  which  it  gave  to  the  hatred 
of  the  people,  but  by  the  loss  of  the  courageous  authority  of  the  mur- 
dered duke,  now  so  much  needed  successfully  to  oppose  York  and  his 
seditious  partizans. 

As  the  favourite  minister  of  the  unpopular  Margaret,  as  the  dexterously 
unpatriotic  ambassador,  who,  to  oblige  tier  had  robbed  England  of  Maine, 
and  as  the  man  most  strongly  suspected  of  having  brought  about  the 
murder  of  Gloucester,  Suffolk  would  under  any  circumstances  have  been 
detested;  but  this  detestation  was  lashed  into  something  very  like  in- 
sanity by  the  consideration  which  was  constantly  recurring,  that  this 
noble,  so  powerful  that  he  could  aid  in  murdering  the  nation's  favourite 
ruier,  and  rob  the  nation  to  conciliate  the  favour  of  a  princess  who  so 
lately  was  a  stranger  to  it,  was  onlv  a  noble  of  yesterday ;  the  great 
grandson,  merely,  of  a  veritable  trader !  It  was  this  consiaeration  that 
gave  added  bitterness  to  every  charge  that  was  truly  made  against  him, 
and  also  caused  not  a  few  things  to  be  bharged  to  him  of  which  he  was 
wholly  innocent. 

Suffolk's  wealth,  always  increasing,  as  well-managed  wealth  needs 
must  be,  was  contrasted  with  the  daily  increasing  penury  of  the  crown, 
which  caused  the  people  to  be  subjected  to  a  thousand  extortions.  While 
he  was  continually  growing  more  and  more  dazzling  in  his  prosperity, 
the  crown,  indebted  to  the  enormous  extern;  of  j£372,000  was  virtually 
bankrupt,  and  the  very  provisions  for  the  royal  household  were  obtained 
by  arbitrary  purveyance — so  arbitrary,  that  it  fell  little  short  of  open  rob- 
bery with  violence. 

Aware  of  the  general  detestation  in  which  he  was  held,  Suffolk,  who, 
apart  from  all  the  mere  exaggerations  of  the  mob,  was  a  "  bold,  bad  man," 
endeavoured  to  forestal  any  formal  attack  by  the  commons'  house  of  par- 
liament, by  rising  in  his  place  in  the  lords  and  loudly  complaining  of  the 
calumnies  that  were  permitted  to  be  uttered  against  him,  after  he  had  lost 
his  father  and  three  brothers  in  the  public  service,  and  had  himself  lived 
seventeen  years  wholly  in  service  abroad,  served  the  crown  in  just  double 
that  number  of  campaigns,  been  made  prisoner,  and  paid  his  own  heavy 
ransom  to  the  enemy.  It  was  scandalous,  he  contended,  that  any  one 
should  dare  to  charge  him  with  treachery  and  collusion  with  foreign  en- 
emies, after  he  had  thus  long  and  faithfully  served  the  crown,  and  been 
rewarded  by  high  honours  and  important  offices. 

Though  Suffolk's  apology  for  his  conduct  was  professedly  a  reply  only 
to  the  rumours  that  were  current  against  him  among  the  vulgar,  the  house 
of  commons  well  understood  his  real  object  in  making  it  to  be  a  desire 
to  prevent  them  from  originating  a  furtnal  charge  against  him ;  and  feel- 
ing themselves  in  some  sort  challenged  and  bound  to  do  so,  they  sent  up 
to  the  peers  a  charge  of  high  treason  against  Suffolk.  Of  this  charge, 
which  was  very  long  and  divided  into  a  great  number  of  clauses,  Hume 
thus  gives  a  summary :  "  They  insisted  that  he  had  persuaded  the  French 
king  to  invade  England  with  an  armed  force,  in  oraer  to  depose  the  king 
Henry,  and  to  place  on  the  throne  his  own  son,  John  de  Lakole,  whom 
he  intended  to  marr)  to  Margaret,  the  only  daughter  of  the  late  duke  of 
Somerset,  and  for  whom,  he  imagined,  he  would  by  that  means  acquire  a 
title  to  the  crown,  that  he  had  contributed  to  the  release  of  the  duke  o* 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HIBTORT 


Orleans,  in  the  hope  that  that  prince  would  assist  King;  Charles  in  expel- 
ling the  English  from  France  and  recovering  full  possession  of  his  king* 
dom ;  that  he  had  afterwards  encouraged  that  monarch  to  make  open  war 
on  Normandy  and  Guienne,  and  had  promoted  his  conquests  by  betraying 
the  secrets  of  England,  and  obstructing  the  succours  mtended  to  be  sent 
to  those  provinces ;  and  that  he  had,  without  any  powers  or  permission, 
promised  by  treaty  to  cede  the  province  of  Maine  to  Charles  of  Anjou, 
and  had  ceded  it  accordingly,  which  proved  in  the  issue  the  chief  cause 
of  the  loss  of  Normandy. 

These  charges  were  easily  refuted  by  a  resolute  and  self-possessed  man 
like  Suffolk.  As  regards  the  cession  of  Maine,  he  justly  enough  said,  that 
he  had  the  concurrence  of  others  of  the  council ;  but  he  took  care  not  to 
add,  that  though  that  was  an  excellent  reason  why  he  should  not  be  alone 
in  bearing  the  punishment,  it  was  no  reason  why  he  should  escape  punish- 
ment altogether.  With  respect  to  his  alledged  intentions  as  to  his  son  and 
Margaret  of  Somerset,  he  more  completely  answered  that  charge  by  point- 
mg  out  that  no  title  to  the  throne  could  popsibly  be  derived  from  Margaret, 
who  was  herself  not  included  in  the  p!>'.lidmentary  act  of  succession,  and 
by  confidently  appealing  to  many  peers  present  to  bear  witness  that  he 
had  intended 'to  marry  his  son  to  one  of  the  earl  of  Warwick's  co-heir- 
esses, and  had  only  been  prevented  from  doing  so  by  the  death  of  that 
lady.  As  if  they  were  themselves  conscious  that  the  particulars  of  their 
first  charge  were  too  vague  and  wild  to  be  successful,  the  commons  sent  up 
to  the  lords  a  second  accusation,  in  which,  among  many  other  evil  doings, 
Suffolk  was  charged  with  improperly  obtaining  excessive  grants  from  the 
crown,  with  embezzling  the  public  money,  and  with  conferring  offices 
upon  unworthy  persons,  and  improperly  using  his  influence  to  defeat  the 
due  execution  of  the  laws. 

The  court  now  became  alarmed  at  the  evident  determination  of  the 
commons  to  follow  up  the  proceedings  against  Suffolk  with  rigour,  and 
an  extraordinary  expedient  was  adopted  for  the  purpose  of  saving  him 
from  the  worst.  The  peers,  both  spiritual  and  temporal,  were  summoned 
to  the  king's  presence,  and  Suffolk  being  then  produced  denied  the  charges 
made  against  him,  but  submitted  to  the  king's  mercy ;  when  the  king  pro- 
nounced that  the  first  charge  was  untrue,  and  that  as  to  the  second,  Suf- 
folk having  submitted  to  mercy,  should  be  banished  for  five  years.  This 
expedient  was  far  too  transparent  to  deceive  the  enemies  of  Suffolk,  who 
clearly  saw  that  it  was  merely  intended  to  send  him  out  of  the  way  until 
the  danger  was  past,  and  then  to  recall  him  and  restore  him  to  authority. 
But  their  hatred  was  too  intense  to  allow  of  their  being  thus  easily  baffled 
ill  their  purpose ;  and  they  hired  the  captain  of  a  vessel  and  some  of  his 
fellows,  who  surprised  Suffolk  near  Dover,  as  he  was  making  for  France, 
beheaded  him,  and  threw  his  body  into  the  sea. 

So  great  a  favourite  as  Suffolk  had  been  of  Queen  Margaret,  it  was, 
however,  not  deemed  expedient  to  take  any  steps  to  bring  his  murderers 
to  justice,  lest  in  the  inquiry  more  should  be  discovered  than  would  con- 
sist with  the  possibility  of  the  queen  and  the  house  of  commons  keeping 
up  any  longer  even  the  simulation  of  civility  and  good  feeling. 

Though  the  duke  of  York  was  in  Ireland  during  the  whole  of  the  pro- 
ceedings against  Suffolk,  and  therefore  could  not  be  directly  connected 
with  them,  Margaret  and  her  friends  did  not  the  less  suspect  him  of  evil 
designs  against  them,  and  were  by  no  means  blind  to  his  aspiring  views 
to  the  crown  ;  nor  did  they  fail  to  connect  him  with  an  insurrection  which 
just  now  broke  out  under  the  direction  of  one  Cade.  This  man,  who  was 
a  native  of  Ireland,  but  whose  crimes  had  obliged  him  for  a  considerable 
lime  to  find  shelter  in  France,  possessed  great  resolution  and  no  small 
j\\Are  of  a  rude  but  showy  ability,  well  calculated  to  impose  upon  the  mnl- 
tu<Je.    Returning  to  England  just  as  the  popular  discontent  was  at  its  high- 


384 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


est,  he  took  the  name  of  John  Mortimer,  wishing  himself  tu  be  taken 
for  a  son  of  Sir  John   Mortimer,  who  early  in  the  present  reign  bad 
been  sentenced  to  death  by  parliament,  upon  an  indictment  of  high 
treason,   wholly  unsupported,  and   most  iniquitously,  on    the    part  of 
Gloucester  and  Bedford,  allowed  to  be  executed.    Taking  up  the  pop- 
ular outcry  against  the  queen  and  minister,  this  Cade  set  himself  up 
as  a  redresser  of  grievances ;  and  partly  from  his  own  plausible  talents 
but  chiefly  from  Hie  charm  of  the  very  popular  name  he  had  assumed 
he  speedily  found  himself  at  the  head  of  upwards  of  twenty  thous* 
and  men.     Imagining  that  a  very  small  force  would  suffice  to  put  down 
what  was  considered  but  a  vulgar  riot,  the  court  sent  Sir  Humphrey  Staf 
ford  with  a  mere  handful  of  men  upon  that  errand  ;  but  Sir  Humphrey  was 
attacked  by  Cade  near  Sevenoaks,  his  little  force  cut  up  or  scatterred,  and 
himself  slain.    Emboldened  by  this  success.  Cade  now  marched  his  dis- 
orderly band  towards  London  and  encamped  upon  Blackheath,  whence  he 
sent  a  list  of  obvious  grievances  of  which  he  demanded  the  correction ; 
but  solemnly  protested  that  he  and  his  followers  would  lay  down  their 
arms  and  disperse,  the  moment  those  grievances  should  be  remedied,  and 
Lord  Say,  the  treasurer,  and  Cromer,  the  sheriff  of  Kent,  against  both  of 
whom  he  had  a  malignant  feeling,  should  be  condignly  punished  for  sun- 
dry malversations  with  which  he  strongly  charged  them.     Confining  his 
demands  within  these  bounds,  and  taking  care  to  prevent  his  fellows  from 
plundering  London,  whence  he  regularly  withdrew  them  at  nightfall,  ho 
was  looked  upon  with  no  animosity,  at  least,  by  the  generality  of  men, 
who  knew  many  of  the  grievances  he  spoke  of  really  to  exist.    But  when 
the  council,  seeing  that  there  was  at  least  a  passive  feeling  in  favour  of 
Cade,  withdrew  with  the  king  to  Kenilworth,  in  Warwickshire,  Cade  so 
far  lost  sight  of  his  professed  moderation  as  to  put  Lord  Say  and  Cromer 
to  death  without  even  the  form  of  a  trial.     As  soon  as  he  had  thus  set  the 
example  of  illegal  violence  he  lost  all  his  previons  control  over  the  mob, 
who  now  conducted  themselves  so  infamously  towards  the  citizens  of 
London,  that  they,  aided  by  a  party  of  soldiers  sent  by  Lord  Scales,  gov. 
ernor  of  the  Tower,  resisted  them,  and  the  rebels  were  completely  defeated 
with  very  great  slaughter.     This  severe  repulse  so  far  lowered  the  spirits 
of  the  Kentish  mob,  that  they  gladly  retired  to  their  homes  on  receiving 
a  pardon  from  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  also  filled  the  office  of 
chancellor.    As  soon  as  it  could  safely  be  done,  this  pardon  was  pro- 
nounced to  be  null  and  void,  upon  the  ground  that  it  had  been  extorted  by 
violence  ;  many  of  the  rebels  were  seized  and  executed,  and  Cade  himself, 
upon  whose  head  a  reward  was  set,  was  killed  by  a  gentleman  named  Ar- 
den,  while  endeavouring  to  conceal  himself  in  Sussex. 

Many  circumstances  concurred  to  lead  the  court  to  suspect  that  this 
revolt  had  been  privately  set  on  foot  by  the  duke  of  York,  to  facilitate  his 
own  designs  on  the  crown ;  and  as  he  was  now  returning  from  Ireland  they 
imagined  that  he  was  about  to  follow  up  the  experiment,  and  accordingly 
issued  an  order  in  the  name  of  the  imlwcile  Henry,  to  oppose  his  return  to 
England.  But  the  duke,  who  was  far  too  wary  to  hasten  his  measures  in  the 
way  his  enemies  anticipated,  converted  all  their  fears  and  precautions  into 
ridicule,  by  coolly  landing  with  no  other  attendants  than  his  ordinary  re- 
tinue. But  as  the  fears  of  his  enemies  had  caused  them  to  betray  their 
real  feelings  towards  him,  he  now  resolved  to  proceed  at  least  one  step 
towards  his  ultimate  designs.  Hitherto  his  title  had  been  spoken  of  by 
his  friends  only  in  whispers  among  themselves,  but  he  now  authorized 
them  openly  to  urge  it  at  all  times  and  in  all  places. 

The  partizins  of  the  reigning  king  and  of  the  aspiring  duke  of  York, 
respectfully,  liinl  each  very  plausible  arguments ;  and  though  men's  minds 
were  pretty  eqinilly  divided  as  to  their  respective  claims,  the  superiority 
which  York  had  as  to  the  favour  of  powerful  noblemen  seemed  to  be  more 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 

tnan  counterbalanced  bv  the  poiaeasion.  by  the  royal  party,  not  only  of  all 
authority  of  the  lawa,  out  also  of  that  "  tower  or  streng^th,"  "  the  king's 
name."  On  the  side  uf  the  crown,  besides  the  advantages  to  which  wo 
have  already  alluded,  there  were  ranged  the  earl  of  Nurttnunberland  and 
the  earl  of  Wostmoreland,  and  these  two  nobles  carried  with  them  all  the 
power  and  influence  of  the  northern  counties  of  England;  and  besides 
these  two  great  men,  the  crown  could  reckon  upon  the  duke  of  Somerset 
and  his  brother  the  duke  of  Kxctor,  the  duke  or  Buckingham,  the  carl  of 
Shrewsbury,  the  lords  Clifford,  Scales,  governor  of  the  Tower,  Audley 
and  a  long  list  of  nobles  of  less  note. 

A.  D.  1451. — The  party  of  the  duke  of  York  was  scarcely  less  strong  • 
but  so  far  had  arts  and  literature  begun  to  show  their  civilizing  effects, 
that  instead  of  instantly  and  Aercely  flying  to  arms,  the  hostile  piirties 
seemed  inclined  to  struggle  rather  by  art  than  force.  The  duke  of  York 
was  the  more  inclined  to  this  plan,  because  he  imagined  that  he  had 
power  enough  in  the  parliament  to  deprive  the  weak  Hetiry  of  the  pres- 
ence and  support  of  his  friends  ;  in  which  case  he  would  have  but  little 
difliculty  in  causing  the  succession  to  be  altered  by  law,  or  even  in  induc- 
ing Henry  to  abdicate  a  throne  which  he  was  obviously  and  lamentably 
unfit  to  fill. 

Nor  did  the  parliament  which  now  met  fail  to  confirm  York's  hopes ; 
the  first  step  taken  *>jr  the  house  of  commons  was  to  petition  the  king  to 
dismiss  from  about  his  person  the  duke  of  Somerset,  the  duchess  of  Suf- 
folk, the  bishop  of  Chester,  Lord  Dudley,  and  Sir  John  Sutton,  and  to  for- 
bid them  on  any  pretence  to  approach  within  twelve  miles  of  the  court. 
The  king  agreed  to  banish  all  named,  save  the  lords,  for  a  whole  year, 
unless,  as  the  answer  written  for  him  very  significantly  said,  he  should 
need  their  services  in  the  suppression  of  rebellion.  Still  farther  to  show 
his  sense  of  the  temper  or  the  lower  house,  the  king— or  rather  his 
friends — refused  to  consent  to  a  bill  of  attainder  against  the  late  duke  ol 
Suffolk,  though  it  had  passed  through  all  the  parliamentary  stages. 

A.  D.  1452. — The  mere  demonstrations  thus  made  by  the  house  of  com- 
mons, even  though  it  had  proved  but  partially  successful,  was  sufficient  to 
encourage  the  duke  to  more  open  advances,  and  ho  issued  a  proclamation 
demanding  a  thorough  reform  of  the  government,  and  especially  a  removal 
of  the  duke  of  Somerset  from  all  oflice  and  authority ;  and  he  then  march- 
ed upon  London  with  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men.  Greatly  popular  as 
he  knew  himself  to  be  in  London,  where  he  counted  upon  an  affectionate 
welcome  and  a  considerable  addition  to  his  force,  he  was  astounded  to  find 
the  gates  fast  closed  against  him.  Scarcely  knowing  how  to  act  under 
such  unexpected  and  untoward  circumstances,  he  retreated  into  Kent, 
whither  he  was  closely  pursued  by  the  king  at  the  head  of  a  far  superior 
army.  In  the  king's  suite  were  Salisbury,  Warwick,  and  many  more  fast 
friends  of  the  duke  of  York,  who  probably  thus  attended  the  king  in  hope 
of  serving  York  as  mediators,  or  even,  should  an  action  take  place,  turning 
the  fortune  of  the  day  by  suddenly  loading  their  forces  to  his  side.  A  par- 
ley ensued,  and  Somerset  was  ordered  into  arrest  to  await  a  parliamen- 
tary  trial,  and  York,  whom  the  court  did  not  as  yet  dare  to  assail,  was 
ordered  to  confine  himself  to  his  secluded  house  at  Wigmore  in  Here- 
fordshire. 

Cool  and  circumspect  as  he  was  resolute,  the  duke  of  York  lived  qui- 
etly in  this  retirement  for  some  time,  but  was  at  length  called  from  it  by 
the  torrent  of  popular  indignation  against  the  ministers,  wliicli  followed  a 
new  and  abortive  attempt  to  reconquor  Gascony;  in  which  attempt,  be- 
sides a  vast  number  of  men,  the  English  lost  their  deservedly  beloved  gen- 
eral, the  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  who  foil  in  battle  at  the  age  of  more  than 
eighty  years.  This  event,  and  the  (jueen  giving  birth  to  a  son,  which  did 
a^f  uy  with  the  hope  great  numbers  had  entertained  that  York  might  wait. 
Vol.  L — 25 


3M 


TUB  TUBASUHY  OF  HlSTOaV. 


and  suneeed  to  Henry  quietly  and  aa  next  heir,  urged  the  Yorkists  beyond 
s*.'  farther  power  or  tneir  chier  to  control  tliern  ;  and  Henry  b(>in((,  by  an 
illnesH,  now  rendered  too  completely  imbecile  oven  to  appear  to  rule,  the 
queen  and  her  council  were  obliged  to  yield  to  the  torrent  of  popular  feel- 
ing, and  they  consented  to  send  Somerset  to  the  Tower — he  being  now 
hated  even  more  than  Suffolk  had  formerly  been— and  to  appoint  the  duke 
of  York  lieutenant  of  the  kingdom.  The  friends  of  the  duke  of  York 
might,  naturally  enough,  desire  to  see  him  in  a  situation  so  favourable  to 
hint  and  their  ultimate  views;  but  the  duke's  conduct  wholly  disappointed 
any  expectations  they  might  have  formed  of  decisive  measures  on  his  part, 
as  he  fairly  and  moderately  exerted  the  proper  authority  of  his  odice,  and 
no  more. 

A.  D.  1455. — Margaret  and  her  friends,  however  well  pleased  to  profit  by 
the  duke's  moderation,  showed  no  intention  of  imitating  it.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  king  recovering  sufficiently  to  be  again  put  forward  in  public  as 
if  acting  from  his  own  free  will,  was  made  to  annul  the  appointment  of 
York,  and  to  release  Somerset  from  the  Tower,  and  give  him  back  all  his 
former  power.  Uven  the  moderation  of  York  was  no  longer  able  to  avoid 
open  extremities,  as  it  was  clear  from  the  hasty  annulling  of  his  commis- 
sion, that  he  was  not  safe  from  being,  by  some  artful  device,  brought  into 
difRculty  for  having  even  consented  to  accept  it.  But  even  now,  though 
he  called  his  forces  about  him  and  placed  himself  at  their  head,  he  made 
no  claim  to  the  crown,  but  limited  his  demands  to  a  reformation  of  the 
government  and  dismissal  of  the  obnoxious  ministry. 

The  hostile  forces  met  near  St  Alban's,  and  in  the  battle  which  ensued 
the  Yorkists  gained  the  victory,  their  enemies  losing  5000  men,  including 
the  detested  Somerset,  Stafford,  eldest  son  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  the 
lord  Clifford,  and  many  other  leading  men  of  the  party.  The  prisoners, 
too,  were  numerous,  and,  chief  of  all,  the  king  was  among  them.  His 
own  utter  imbecility  and  the  mild  temper  of  the  duke  of  York  saved  the 
unfortunate  Henry  from  all  annoyance.  The  duke  showed  him  every 
possible  respect  and  tenderness ;  and  though  he  availed  himself  of  his 
good  fortune  to  exert  all  the  kingly  authority,  while  still  leaving  unclaimed 
the  empty  title  of  king,  Henry  was  little  inclined  to  quarrel  with  an  ar- 
rangement which  saved  him  from  what  he  most  of  all  detested,  exertion 
and  trouble. 

The  moderate  or  timid  policy  of  the  duke  of  York,  and  the  spirit  and 
ability  with  which  Margaret  kept  together  her  weakened  party,  prevented 
farther  bloodshed  for  a  time,  even  after  this  battle  had  commenced  the 
dread  war  of  "  the  roses ;"  in  which,  besides  innumerable  skirmishes, 
twelve  pitched  battles  were  fought  upon  English  ground,  and  which  for 
thirty  long  years  divided  families,  desolated  the  land,  and  caused  a  loss 
of  life  of  which  some  notion  may  be  formed  from  the  simple  fact,  that 
among  the  slain  were  no  fewer  than  eighty  princes  of  the  blood !  The 
parliament,  seeing  the  disinclination  of  the  duke  of  York  to  grasp  the 
sceptre  which  seemed  so  nearly  within  his  reach,  shaped  its  proceedings 
accordingly;  and  while,  by  granting  an  indemnity  to  the  Yorkists  and  re- 
storing the  duke  to  his  office  of  lieutenant  or  protector  of  the  kingdom, 
they  renewed  their  oaths  of  allegiance  to  the  unconscious  and  imbecile 
king,  and  limited  York's  appointment  to  the  time  when  the  king's  son, 
who  was  now  made  prince  of  Wales,  should  attain  his  majority.  This 
parliament  also  did  good  service  by  revoking  all  the  impolitic  and  exten- 
sive grants  which  had  been  made  since  the  death  of  the  late  king,  and 
which  were  so  extensive  that  they  had  mainly  caused  the  excessive  pov 
erty  into  which  the  crown  had  fallen. 

A.  D.  1456.— Margaret  was  of  too  stern  and  eager  a  nature  to  neglect  any 
of  the  opportunities  of  strengthening  her  party  which  were  afforded  by 
the  singular  moderation  or  indecision  of  York.    The  king  havmg  a  tern* 


THE  TREASUaY  OF  HISTORY. 


S8V 


poniry  lucid  interval— rnr  his  real  diseaflo  was  a  hort  of  idiotcy — she  took 
advaiitagn  of  the  dulco's  abaciicc  to  pnrado  her  uiifortunHto  and  passiva 
husband  before  the  parliament,  and  to  make  him  declare  his  intention  o' 
resuming  his  authority.  Unexpected  as  this  proposal  was,  York's  friends 
were  wholly  unprepared  with  any  reasonable  argument  aijainst  it;  and, 
mdeed,  many  of  them,  being  sufferers  from  the  recent  resumption  of  thr 
crown  grants,  were  greatly  disgusted  with  their  leader  on  that  account. 
The  king  was  accordingly  pronounced  in  possession  of  his  proper  author- 
ity i  and  York,  constant  to  his  moderate  or  temporising  polity,  laid  down 
his  oflice  without  a  struggle  or  even  a  complaint. 

A.  D.  1457.— The  king,  or  rather  Margaret,  being  thus  anin  in  taM  jjot- 
■ession  of  power,  the  court  went  to  pass  a  season  at  Coventryt  wLere 
York  and  the  earls  of  Warwick  and  Salisbury  were  invited  to  v-iit  the 
king.  They  were  so  unsuspicious  of  the  real  motive  of  this  invitation, 
that  they  readily  accepted  it,  and  were  actually  on  the  road  when  they 
were  informed  of  Margaret's  intention  certainly  to  seize  unon  their  per- 
sons, and,  not  improbably,  to  put  them  to  death.  On  lecc.ving  this  start- 
ling intelligence  the  friends  separated,  to  prepare  for  their  defence 
against  the  open  violence  which,  it  seemed  probable,  Margaret  would 
resort  to  on  finding  her  treachery  discovered  and  disappointed  ;  York  re- 
tiring to  Wigmore,  Salisbury  to  his  noble  place  at  Middlehani  in  York- 
shire, and  Warwick  to  Calais,  of  which  ho  had  been  made  governor  after 
the  battle  of  St.  Alban's,  and  which  was  especially  valuable  to  the  York- 
ist cause,  inasmuch  as  it  contained  the  only  regular  military  body  which 
England  then  supported.  Kven  now  York  was  not  inclined  to  proceed  to 
extremities ;  and  as  Margaret  on  her  part  was  doubtful  as  to  the  sufflnien* 
cy  of  her  military  strength,  and  well  aware  of  the  very  jp^reat  extent  to 
which  the  popular  sympathies  were  enlisted  on  the  side  of  York,  a  pause 
ensued,  of  which  Bourchier,  archbishop  of  York,  and  some  other  sincere 
lovers  of  their  country,  availed  themselves,  to  attempt  a  mediation  by 
which  the  people  might  be  spared  the  ruinous  and  revolting  horrors  of 
civil  war. 

A.  D.  1458 — The  humane  endeavour  of  these  personages  so  far  succeed- 
ed, that  the  leaders  of  both  parties  agreed  to  meet  in  London  for  a  solemn 
and  public  reconciliation :  but  the  very  manner  of  their  meeting,  notwith- 
standing the  avowed  purpose  of  it,  was  sufficient  to  have  convinced  all 
accurate  observers  of  the  little  reliance  that  could  be  placed  upon  the 
friendly  feelings  of  either  party.  Both  came  numerously  attended,  and 
both  kept  their  attendants  near  them,  and  in  the  same  close  watch  and 
serried  distribution  as  would  be  observed  in  hostile  armies  encamped  upon 
the  same  ground  at  evening,  preparatory  for  the  bloodshed  and  the  strug- 
gle of  the  morrow. 

Though  this  mutual  jealousy  and  dread  augured  but  ill  for  the  perma- 
nence of  a  friendship  declared  under  such  circumstances,  the  terms  be- 
tween the  opposing  parties  were  arranged  without  much  difficulty  and 
wholly  without  strife ;  and  the  hollow  peace  having  been  fully  arranged, 
the  parties  went  in  solemn  procession  to  St.  Paul's,  that  their  union  might 
be  evident  to  the  people ;  York  gallantly  leading  by  the  hand  his  truculent 
and  implacable  enemy  Margaret,  and  each  of  the  couples  who  followed 
them  in  the  procession  being  composed  of  a  leading  man  of  tiie  opposing 
parlies  respectively. 

A.  D.  1459. — The  peace  thus  patched  up  was  of  exactly  the  frail  tenure 
that  might  have  been  anticipated.  The  trivial  accident  of  a  retainer  of 
the  earl  of  Warwick  being  insulted  led  to  a  general  brawl,  swords  were 
drawn,  the  fight  became  serious,  and  tlie  royal  party  being  the  more  nu- 
merous, Warwick  only  saved  his  own  life  by  flying  to  Calais.  This  ori- 
ginally petty  affair  put  an  end  to  peace;  both  parties  took  off  their  masks ; 
everywhere  the  din  of  preparation  was  heard,  and  it  became  evident  even 


388 


THE  TREABIRY  OF  HISTORY. 


to  thoio  who  moit  doairod  peace  for  ihcir  country,  that  a  civil  war  wm 
now  wholly  inevitahle. 

The  enri  of  Siilisbury  having  rained  a  coniiderabio  force  wag  making 
hasty  nmrchcH  lo  form  o  juMiiion  with  the  duke  of  York,  when  ho  wa« 
overtaken  at  lUore  heath,  in  StuflTorliihire,  hy  a  niueh  larger  party  of  tho 
royaljstH  under  tho  lord  Audhty.  Salisbury's  numeriral  inferiority  whs 
fully  compensated  by  his  superiority  of  judjrinent.  To  reach  Itini  the 
royalists  had  to  descend  a  steep  bank  and  cross  a  stream.  N.ilisbuiy 
caused  his  men  to  retreat,  as  if  alarmed  at  their  enemies'  nu'i>l>i!r;  and 
Audlcy,  faliin^r  into  the  snare,  gave  his  vansuard  the  word  to  cluntjo  and 
led  them  in  full  pursuit.  As  the  vanguard  reached  tho  side  of  the  riv- 
ulet, Salisbury  BU(l<lenly  faced  about,  and  having  only  to  deal  with  a  budy 
inferior  to  his  own,  put  it  completely  to  tho  rout,  the  remaining  body  uf 
the  royalists,  instead  of  hastening  over  to  support  their  comrades,  be- 
taking themselves  to  flight  in  good  earnest. 

York's  post  was  at  Ludlow,  in  Shropshire,  and  thither  Salisbury  now 
marched  his  troops,  whose  spirits  wore  heightened  and  confirmed  by  their 
victory.  Soon  after  his  arrival  York  received  a  new  aecession  to  his 
numbers,  the  earl  of  Warwick  joining  him  with  a  body  of  veterans  from 
the  garrison  of  Calais.  York  was  naturally  delighted  with  this  accession 
uf  disciplined  men,  who,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  must  necessarily 
have  been  of  immense  importance;  but  their  commander,  Sir  A i  drew 
Trollope,  turned  their  presence  into  a  calamity  instead  of  an  advant; ;/ 
to  the  dukc*s  cause.  The  royal  army  arrived  in  sight  of  the  "V  orkists, 
and  a  general  action  was  to  take  place  on  the  morrow,  when  Sii  Andrew, 
under  cover  of  the  night,  basely  led  his  veterans  over  to  the  king.  The 
mere  loss  of  a  large  and  disciplined  body  of  men  was  the  legist  mischief 
this  treachery  did  to  York.  It  spread  a  perfect  panic  of  suspicion  and 
dismay  through  the  camp;  the  very  leaders  could  no  longer  rely  upon 
each  other's  good  faith;  hope  and  confidrnec  fled,  and  the  Yorkists  deter- 
mined to  separate  and  await  some  more  favourable  state  of  things  dre  put- 
ting their  cause  to  the  hazard  of  a  pitched  battle.  The  duke  of  York  re 
tired  to  Ireland,  where  he  was  universally  beloved,  and  Warwick  returned 
to  Calais,  were  he  was  from  lime  to  time  joined  by  large  reinforcements; 
York's  friends  who  remained  in  England  continuing  to  recruit  for  him  as 
zealously  as  though  his  cause  had  sustained  no  check  from  the  recent 
treason. 

A.  D.  1460. — Having  rompleu  d  his  own  preparations,  and  being  satisfied 
from  the  advices  of  his  friends  in  England  tliat  he  might  rely  upon  a  con- 
siderable rising  of  the  people  in  his  favour,  Warwick  now  sailed  from 
Calais  with  a  large  and  well-equipped  army,  and,  after  capturing  some  of 
the  royal  vessels  at  sea,  landed  in  safety  on  the  coast  of  Kent,  accom- 
panied by  the  earl  of  Marche,  tlie  cld<!8t  son  of  the  duke  of  York,  and 
the  earl  of  Salisbury ;  and  on  his  road  to  London  he  was  joined  by  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  Lord  Cobham,  and  other  powerful  nobles  and 
gentlemen. 
The  city  of  London  eagerly  opened  its  gates  to  Warwick,  whose  numbers 
daily  increased  so  much,  that  he  was  able  with  confidence  to  advance  to 
Northampton  to  meet  the  royal  army.  The  baltl''  '  mi  .lencod  furiously 
on  both  sides,  but  was  speedily  decided.  The  royylit:.!!.  who  had  latelv 
been  benefited  by  treason  wure  now  sufferers  fi  "p  r.,  'i  '•'  /d  Grey 
Ruthin,  who  had  the  command  of  its  vanguard,  '  ui  ^;  ili„  whole  of  his 
uroops  over  to  the  Yorkists.  A  universal  panic  spread  through  the  royal- 
ists by  this  base  treachery,  and  the  battle  became  a  rout.  The  slaughtei 
among  the  nobility  was  tremendous,  and  included  the  duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, the  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  Lord  Egremont,  Sir  William  Lucie,  and 
many  other  gallant  officers.  Tiie  loss  of  tlie  common  soldiery  on  the 
^.-•'ii!  siuo  was  comparatively  trifling;  the  earl  of  Warwick  and  his  col- 


THK  TRKA8URY  Of  III8TOH^. 


3>9tf 


y 


r 


\fitigupn  directing  Dm  Y<irki8ti,  both  in  thn  hHttIo  iind  the  chaw,  to  ipare 
th«'  Hol(li«Ty,  l>ut  to  Kiv(   jio  quarter  uiiuwig  the  Iradcra. 

Th«  utihii|>|>y  llniry,  ..  Iki  wiih  far  inoro  fit  for  th«  quiet  seclusion  of 
noinfi  weU-or<l«'rt'd  couinry  iihodc*,  wus  by  the  compuNion  of  hm  inq)eri- 
uua  wifu  11  spectator  of  thiVbattli  uid  was  taken  priitonpr;  but  both  policy 
and  [food  feeling  led  llie  N  >rkist  leadern  t'>  show  every  respect  and  kind- 
ncNt  to  one  whose  great)'  luiofortune  WMt  liiin.,'  a  king,  atKl  whose  great- 
est fault  was  a  disfMixe  m|'  Hir  braii'  whose  patient  and  »i)n(>le  bi  aring, 
moreover,  iiad  won  liiin  'he  tendei  piiy  of  his  people. 

Warwick  marched  wiiti  his  royal  captive  to  |/'n,|im,  where  the  duke  ol 
York  shortly  afterwards  arrived  from  Ireland,  anil  a  p.u'iaiTient  was  sum- 
moned in  the  king's  name  to  men  it  Westminster  on  the  7'li  of  October. 
The  real  or  affected  scruples  of  York  were  now  wholly  at  an  end,  and 
he  had  determined  to  bring  forward  for  the  first  lime  an  open  and  positive 
claim  to  the  throne.  Hut  even  now  he  would  onlv  do  so  throuifh  the 
medium  of  a  farce  which  ono  caniu»t  read  of  without  feelnii;  -iomething 
like  contempt  for  him,  in  spite  of  the  remarkable  ability  of  hia  general 
conduct.  Though  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  knew  the  nUcntioMs  of 
York  fully  as  well  as  the  duke  himself  knew  them,  that  prelate  on  seeing 
him  enter  the  house  of  lords  and  advance  towards  the  throne,  asked  him, 
in  a  low  tone,  whether  he  had  as  yet  paid  his  respects  to  the  king;  and 
York  answered — as  the  prelate  well  knew  that  he  was  to  answer — that  he 
knew  of  no  one  to  whom  he  owed  the  respect  due  to  that  title.  How  two 
grave  men  could  unblushingly  perform  this  scene  of  needles  mockery,  or 
now  they  could  perform  it  unchecked  by  the  indignant  and  ^ontcMviptuous 
laughter  of  their  fellow-peers,  it  really  is  not  easy  to  ima^in<^- 

Having  by  this  ridiculous  scene  made  all  the  preparations  liathe  could 
desire,  the  duke  placed  himself  close  to  the  throne,  o^d  addr.ssed  a  long 
speech  to  the  peers  in  advocacy  of  his  right  to  the  throin*,  and  in  com- 
ment upon  the  treason  and  cruelty  by  which  the  house  of  Lanfaster  had 
usurpecl  and  kept  possession  of  it.  So  unnecessary  was  the  tarce  with 
which  the  duke  had  thought  fit  to  preface  the  statement — so  we. '  prepared 
were  at  least  the  majority  of  the  peers  present  to  hear  it,  that  they  pro- 
ceeded  to  take  the  subject  into  consideration  as  coolly  as  their  lescend- 
ants  of  the  present  day  would  resolve  themselves  into  a  committe-  for  the 
consideration  of  a  turnpike  bill.  The  duke  probably  was  not  v(  ry  well 
pleased  with  the  excess  of  this  coolness ;  for  the  spot  upon  whicli  he  had 
placed  himself  and  his  bearing  throughout  the  scene  go  to  show,  hat  he 
expected  that  the  peers  would  by  acclamation  place  him  upon  the  'lirone 
against  which  he  leaned. 

The  lords  having  invited  the  leading  members  of  the  lower  house  to  aid 
them  in  the  investigation  of  the  claim  of  the  duke  of  York,  objections 
were  made  to  it,  grounded  on  former  parliamentary  settlements  of  tin  suc- 
cession, and  upon  the  fact  that  the  duke,  who  had  always  borne  the  urms 
of  York,  now  claimed  through  the  house  of  Clarence ;  but  to  both  tliese 
objections  the  duke's  friends  replied  by  alledgingthe  prevailing  jower  tnd 
great  tyranny  of  the  Lancastrians  ;  and  the  peers,  whom  this  reply  satis- 
fied— as.  no  doubt,  had  been  duly  agreed  upon  long  before  they  met  in  le 
house — proceeded  to  determine  that  the  title  of  the  duke  of  York  w  as 
beyond  doubt  just  and  indefeasible,  but  that  in  consideration  of  Heiiy 
having  worn  the  crown  thirty-eight  years,  he  should  continue  to  do  so 
for  the  remainder  of  his  life,  the  duke  acting  during  that  time  as  regen*. 
The  lords  further  determined  that  the  duke  should  succeed  to  the  throne 
at  Henry's  decease  ;  that  any  attempts  upon  his  life  should  be  equally 
treason  with  attempts  on  the  life  of  the  king;  and  that  this  new  set- 
tlement of  the  crown  should  be  final,  and  abrogate  and  annul  the 
settlemeut  made  previously.  The  duke  was  well  contented  with  this 
modi' rate  settlement  of  the  question  ;  the  weak-minded  and  captive  king 


muM 


390 


THE  TllKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Iiad  of  "oursi  no  power  to  oppose  it,  and  this  transfer  of  the  settlemont  was 
agreed  to  by  the  whole  parliament  with  less  excitement  than  a  trivial  party 
question  has  often  caused  since. 

Invested  with  the  regency,  and  also  having  the  king's  person  in  his 
power,  York  was  now  king  in  all  but  name ;  but  he  too  well  understood 
the  audacious  and  able  spirit  of  Queen  Margaret,  to  deem  himself  perma- 
nently in  possession  as  long  as  she  remained  in  the  kingdom  at  liberty. 
Anxious  to  get  her  into  his  power,  that  he  might  either  iinprisonor  banish 
her,  he  sent  her,  in  the  name  of  her  husband,  a  summons  to  Join  him  in 
London.     But  Margaret,  who  was  busy  raising  forces  in  Scotland  and  the 
north  of  England,  by  promising  to  the  bravest  and  most  turbulent  men  in 
those  parts  the  spoiling  of  all  the  country  north  of  the  Trent,  instead  of 
complying  with  this  summons,  unfurled  the  royal  standard,  and  showed 
herself  at  the  head  of  twenty  thousand  men,  and  prepared  to  fight  yet  an- 
other battle  against  York  in  despite  of  disadvantageous  fortune.     Whether 
from  some  unaccountable  want  of  judgment  on  the  part  of  the  duke,  or 
from  the  exceeding  popularity  of  Margaret  among  the  inhabitants  of  the 
north,  causing  him  to  be  wantonly  misled  as  to  her  resources,  the  duke 
with  only  five  thousand  men  marched  against  Margaret's  army,  as  though 
he  had  merely  to  put  down  an  ordinary  revolt  of  an  undisciplined  handful 
of  men.     A  fatal  mistake,  from  whatever  cause  it  arose  !     The  duke  had 
already  led  his  little  army  as  far  as  Wakefield,  in  Yorkshire,  ere  he  dis- 
covered his  error  just  in  time  to  throw  himself  in  Sandal  Castle,  in  that 
neighbourhood ;  and  even  now  he  might  have  been  safe  had  he  not  been 
guilty  of  a  second  error,  for  which  no  one  but  himself  could  possibly  be 
blamed.     He  was  urged  by  the  earl  of  Salisbury  and  the  rest  of  the  friends 
who  accompanied  him,  to  keep  close  within  the  castle  until  his  son,  the 
earl  of  March,  could  arrive  from  the  borders  of  Wales,  where  he  was  levy- 
ing troops,  and  thus,  when  he  had  something  like  an  equality  as  to  num- 
bers, to  descend  into  the  plain  and^ive  the  queen  battle.     This  prudent 
counsel  the  duke  with  unconceivable  folly  rejected,  upon  the  ridiculous 
plea  that  he  should  be  forever  disgraced  as  a  soldier  were  he  to  remain 
shut  up  within  a  fortress  because  threatened  by  a  woman.     Now  the  duke 
must  full  well  have  known,  that,  spirited  and  sanguinary  as  Margaref 
undoubtedly  was,  she  was  in  merely  the  nominal  command  of  her  arrtiy 
that  she  was  aided  by  commanders  of  whose  talents  it  would  be  no  dis- 
grace to  him  to  show  his  respect;  and  that  finally,  her  force  outnumbered 
his  in  the  overwhelming  proportion  of  four  to  one.     But  the  truth  was, 
that  the  duke  had  more  courage  as  a  knight  than  judgment  as  a  com- 
mander ;  and,  in  spite  of  all  that  could  be  said  by  his  real  and  judicious 
friends,  he  obstinately  persisted  in  descending  to  the  neighbouring  plain 
and  giving  battle  to  the  queen.     As  might  have  been  anticipated,  the  royal- 
ists availed  themselves  of  their  vast  numerical  superiority,  and  at  the 
commencement  of  the  action  detached  a  considerable  body  to  fall  upon  the 
rear  of  the  duke's  force.    This  manoeuvre  hastened  the  event,  which  was 
not  doubtful  even  from  the  commencement ;  the  duke's  army  was  com- 
pletely routed  and  he  himself  was  among  the  number  of  the  slain. 

That  Margaret  should  chose  to  resist  the  prince  was  natural,  even  apart 
from  any  doubt  she  might  have  felt  as  to  the  superiority  of  his  claim  to 
that  of  her  husband;  but  her  conduct  after  the  battle  showed  a  depraved 
and  virulent  feeling,  which  was  at  once  unwomanly  and  of  evil  augury  to 
the  people  in  the  event  of  her  ever  being  firmly  fixed  in  power.  The  body 
of  her  illustrious  opponent,  whose  triumph  would  have  been  secure  some 
years  before  had  he  chosen  to  push  his  power  to  extremity,  was  foutj 
among  the  slain ;  and  this  disgustingly  unfeniinine  queen  had  the  head 
struck  off  and  affixed  to  the  gate  of  York  castle,  a  paper  crown  being  first 
placed  upon  the  ghastly  head,  in  bitter  and  cruel  mockery  of  the  duke's 
unsuccessful  endeavours.    Margaret's  cruel  temper  seems  to  have  in- 


THE  TUBASUKY  OF  Hlc*TOHY. 


391 


in- 


fluenced her  friends.  The  young  earl  of  Rutland,  son  of  the  duke  of  York, 
and  then  only  seventeen  years  old,  being  taken  prisoner  and  led  into  the 
presence  of  Lord  Clifford,  was  by  that  nobleman's  own  hand  put  to  death. 
Phis  dastardly  butchery  of  a  mere  boy  is  accounted  for  by  the  historians 
on  the  ground  of  Clifford's  own  father  having  perished  in  the  battle  of  St. 
Alban's !  As  though  that  could  have  been  any  justification  of  his  present 
butchery  of  a  young  prince  who  at  the  time  of  that  battle  was  barely 
twelve  years  old!  Another  illustrious  victim  was  the  earl  of  Salisbury, 
who  being  severely  wounded  was  taken  prisoner,  carried  to  Pontefract, 
and  there  beheaded. 

This  battle  was  a  terrible  loss  to  the  Yorkists,  upwards  of  three  thousand 
of  whom  perished,  besides  the  duke.  That  prince  was  only  fifty  years  of 
age  when  he  fell,  and  was  reasonably  looked  upon  by  his  party  as  being 
likely  to  be  their  support  and  ornament  for  many  years.  He  was  succeeded 
in  his  title  and  pretensions  by  his  eldest  son,  Edward ;  besides  whom  he 
left  two  other  sons,  George  and  Richard,  and  three  daughters,  Anne,  Eliza- 
beth, and  Margaret. 

A.  D.  1461. — ^Immediately  after  this  action  the  able  and  active,  though 
most  hatefully  cruel  Margaret,  marched  with  the  main  body  of  her  army 
against  the  earl  of  Warwick,  who  was  left  in  command  of  the  main  body 
of  the  Yorkists  at  London,  while  she  sent  a  detachment  under  .Tasper  Tu- 
dor, earl  of  Pembroke,  and  half-brother  to  her  unfortunate  husband,  against 
Edward,  the  new  duke  of  York,  who  was  still  on  the  Welsh  border.  The 
earl  of  Pembroke  and  the  duke  of  York  met  at  Mortimer's  Cross,  in  Here- 
fordshire, when  the  earl  was  completely  routed  with  the  loss  of  nearly 
four  thousand  men  ;  the  remainder  of  his  force  being  scattered  in  all  di- 
rections, and  he  himself  having  no  small  difficulty  in  making  good  his  re- 
treat. His  father,  Sir  Owen  Tudor,  who  accompanied  him  to  this  disas- 
trous battle,  was  still  less  fortunate ;  being  taken  prisoner  and  led  into  the 
presence  of  the  duke  of  York,  that  prince  instantly  ordered  him  to  be  be- 
headed. 

Margaret  was  more  fortunate  than  Pembroke.  She  encountered  War- 
wick at  St.  Alban's,  whither  he  had  marched  from  London  to  meet  her. 
Warwick's  own  force  was  larjije,  and  he  was  strongly  reinforced  by  volun- 
teers, the  Londoners  being  for  the  most  part  staunch  Yorkists.  At  the 
commencement  of  the  battle  Warwick  even  had  the  advantage,  but  he 
was  suddenly  deserted  by  Lovelace,  who  commanded  under  him,  and  who 
led  the  whole  of  his  men  over  to  the  enemy.  The  consequence  was  the 
complete  rout  of  the  Yorkists,  two  thousand  three  hundred  of  whom  per- 
ished on  the  field.  Many  Yorkists  also  were  taken  prisoners,  as  was  the 
unhappy  king,  who  had  been  taken  to  the  battle  by  Warwick,  and  who,  in 
falling  again  into  the  power  of  his  queen,  could  scarcely  so  properly  oe 
said  to  be  rescued  as  to  be  taken  prisoner.  Unhappy  prince  !  Into  wl  jse 
hands  soever  he  might  pass,  the  weakness  of  his  mind  rendered  him  but 
the  mere  tool  and  pretext  of  his  possessors,  who  hurried  him  hither  and 
thither,  now  vexing  his  dull  intellect  with  the  subtle  schemes  of  party,  and 
now  startling  his  tame  and  timorous  spirit  with  the  bloody  scenes  and  rude 
alarms  of  the  tented  field.     Unhappy,  thrice  unhappy  prince! 

Margaret  here  gave  a  new  proof  of  her  sanguinary  temper.  Lord  Bon- 
ville,  who  had  been  entrusted  with  the  care  of  the  king's  person  during  the 
battle,  was  rather  agreeable  to  the  weak  prince,  who,  on  the  defeat  of  the 
Yorkists,  bogged  this  nobleman  to  remain,  and  assured  him  of  pardon  and 
protection.  But  Margaret,  as  soon  as  the  confusion  of  battle  allowed  !ier 
to  interfere,  ordered  him  to  be  beheaded ;  and  a  similar  doom  was  •'.irticted 
upon  Sir  Thomas  Kyriel,  who  had  greatly  distinguished  hip^oclf  during 
the  wars  in  France. 

Before  Margaret  could  turn  the  victory  she  thus  ab-;sed  to  any  practical 
advantage,  the  young  duke  of  York  rapidly  approached  her ;  and  as  she 


392 


THK  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


was  sensible  of  her  disadvantages  in  being  between  his  army  and  London, 
where  he  was  so  popular,  she  hastily  retreated  northward ;  while  Edward, 
whom  she  but  narrowly  avoided,  and  whose  army  was  far  more  numerous 
than  hers,  entered  London  in  triumph,  and  to  the  great  delight  of  his  party. 
Finding  his  cause  so  numerously  supported  by  the  Londoners,  and  greatly 
elated  by  the  cordial  gratulations  which  they  bestowed  upon  him,  which 
he  doubtless  owed  fully  as  much  to  his  youth,  the  elegance  of  his  person, 
and  his  kindly  though  courtly  address,  he  determined  to  cast  aside  all  the 
hesitation  and  delay  which  had  proved  so  fatal  to  his  father,  to  assume  the 
throne  in  despite  of  Henry's  existence,  and  to  maintain  his  assumption 
by  treating  as  traitors  and  rebels  all  who  should  venture  to  oppose  it.     As, 
however,  he  was  desirous  of  having  at  least  the  appearance  of  the  national 
consent  to  his  claims,  and  as  the  appealing  to  parliament  would  be  infin- 
itely too  tedious  for  his  impatience,  and  might  even  give  time  for  some 
fatal  bar  to  arise  to  his  success,  he  assembled  his  army  and  a  great  mul- 
titude of  the  Londoners  in  St.  John's  Fields,  where  an  artful  and  yet  pas- 
sionate harangue  was  pronounced  in  vituperation  of  the  other  faction,  and 
in  support  of  the  claims  and  in  praise  of  the  high  qualities  of  Edward  him- 
self.    Such  an  harangue  as  this,  delivered  before  a  meeting  composed 
exclusively  of  the  friends  and  partizans  of  Edward,  could  not  fail  to  elicit 
applause;  and  when  it  was  followed  up  by  the  question  "which  king  they 
would  have,  Henry  of  Lancaster  or  Edward  of  York  1"  who  can  be  in  doubt 
as  to  the  reply  with  which  the  multitude  made  the  very  welkin  ring.     Ed- 
ward duke  of  A'^ork  having  thus  been  hailed  by  "the  people"  as  their  king 
under  the  style  of  Edward  IV.,  certain  peers,  prelates,  and  other  influen- 
tial personages  were  next  assembled  at  Baynard's  castle,  who  confirmed 
what  they  obstinately  affected  to  call  "the  people's  decision ;"  and  Edward 
IV.  was  duly  proclaimed  king  on  the  5th  of  March,  thus  putting  a  formal 
end  to  the  reign  of  the  unfortunate  Henry,  whose  infancy  was  graced  with 
two  crowns,  and  hailed  by  the  loyal  shouts  of  two  nations,  and  whose 
manhood  had  been  only  one  long  series  of  servitude  in  the  hands  of 
avowed  enemies,  or  of  friends  whose  yoke  was  quite  as  heavy,  and  per- 
haps even  more  painful. 


CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

THE    REIGN    OF    EDWARD    IV. 

Though  Edward  was  now  only  in  his  twentieth  year,  he  had  alreaay 
given  proofs  of  activity,  courage  and  a  very  determined  purpose;  to  which 
we  must  add,  that  almost  the  very  first  act  of  his  reign  showed  that  if  he 
wei'^'  more  prompt  and  resolute  than  his  father,  he  was  also  by  far  more 
violt  ^t  and  sanguinary.  A  citizen  of  London  had  the  sign  of  the  crown 
above  his  shop,  and  jocularly  said  that  his  son  should  be  "heir  to  the 
crown."  Anything  more  harmless  than  this  jocular  speech,  or  more  ob- 
vious than  the  tradesman's  real  meaning,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  imagine 
But  Edward,  jealous  of  his  title  and  feeling  himself  insecure  upon  the 
throne,  gave  a  treasonable  interpretation  to  a  merry  joke,  insisted  that  it 
had  a  derisive  allusion  to  himself,  and  actually  had  the  unfortunate  man 
condemned  for  treason — and  executed ! 

This  brutal  murder  was  a  fitting  prelude  to  the  scenes  of  slaughter  with 
which  the  kingdom  was  soon  filled ;  and  plainly  proclaimed  that  Margaret 
had  now  to  deal  with  an  opponent  to  the  full  as  truculent  and  unsparing 
as  herself.  The  nation  was  divided  into  Lancastrians  and  Yorkists,  the 
former  bearing  the  symbol  of  the  red,  the  latter  of  the  white  rose  ;  and  93 
though  the  blood  shed  in  actual  figiit  were  insufficient  to  allay  the  tiger- 
»ike  desire  of  the  principal  opponents,  the  scaffolds  were  dyed  deeply  wiHj 
the  blood  of  the  prisoners  taken  by  either  party. 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


V.}3 


Margaret's  popularity  in  the  northern  counties  had  enabled  her  to  get 
together  an  army  of  sixty  thousand  men,  with  which  she  took  post  in 
Yorkshire,  whither  Edward  and  the  earl  of  Warwick  hastened  to  meet 
her.  On  arriving  at  Pontefract,  Edward  despatched  Lord  Fitzwalter  with 
a  detachment  to  secure  the  passage  over  the  river  Ayre,  at  Ferrybridge. 
Fitzwalter  obtained  possession  of  the  important  post  in  question,  but  was 
speedily  attacked  there  by  very  superior  numbers  of  the  Lancastrians  un- 
der Lord  Clifford,  who  drove  the  Yorkists  from  their  position  with  great 
slaughter,  Fitzwalter  himself  being  among  the  slain.  When  the  remains 
of  the  beaten  detachment  carried  these  disastrous  tidings  to  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  that  nobleman,  fearing  that  the  misfortune  would  destroy  the 
spirits  of  his  troops,  had  his  horse  brought  to  him,  stabbed  it  to  the  heart 
in  presence  of  the  whole  army,  and  solemnly  swore  that  he  would  share 
the  fatigues  and  the  fate  of  the  meanest  of  his  soldiers.  He  at  the  same 
time  caused  public  proclamation  to  be  made,  giving  permission  to  any  sol- 
dier who  feared  the  approaching  struggle  immediately  to  depart  from  the 
army ;  and  in  a  jimilar  spirit  denounced  the  most  severe  punishment  upon 
any  who  on  the  actual  day  of  battle  should  show  any  symptoms  of  cow- 
ardice while  before  the  enemy.  As  the  post  which  had  been  so  disas- 
trously lost  by  Fitzwalter  was  of  great  importance,  Lord  Falconberg  was 
sent  with  a  new  detachment  to  recover  it ;  and,  crossing  the  river  at  some 
miles  above  Ferrybridge,  he  fell  suddenly  upon  Lord  Clifford's  detachment 
and  routed  it,  Clifford  himself  being  among  the  very  considerable  number 
of  the  killed. 

The  opposing  armies  at  length  met  at  Towton.  The  Yorkists  charged 
under  favour  of  a  severe  snow-storm  which  the  wind  drove  into  the  faces 
of  the  enemy,  whose  half  blinded  condition  was  still  further  turned  to  ad- 
vantage by  Lord  Falconberg,  who  caused  a  party  of  his  archers,  while  yet 
at  more  than  ordinary  arrow-shot  from  the  opposite  army,  to  discharge  a 
volley  of  the  light,  far  flying,  bul  nearly  harmless  arrows  called  flight  ar- 
rows, and  immediately  to  shift  their  position.  The  Lancastrians,  quite 
unsuspicious  of  the  stratagem,  and  prevented  by  the  snow  from  noticing 
ttioir  opponents'  change  of  position,  sent  volley  after  volley  of  their  arrows 
ill  the  direction  whence  they  had  been  assailed,  and  when  they  had  thus 
bootlessly  emptied  their  quivers  the  main  body  of  the  Yorkists,  led  on  by 
Edward  himself,  made  a  grand  and  terribly  destructive  charge ;  the  bow 
was  laid  aside  on  both  sides  for  the  sword  and  battle-axe,  and  the  Lancas- 
trians were  routed  and  pursued  all  the  way  to  Tadcaster  by  their  enemy. 
The  Lancastrian  loss,  in  the  battle  and  the  scarcely  less  murderous  pur- 
suit, was  calculated  at  six  and  thirty  thousand  men ;  among  whom  were 
Ihe  earl  of  Westmoreland  and  his  brother  Sir  .John  Nevil,  the  earl  of  Nor- 
.humberland,  the  lords  Dacres  and  Welles,  and  Sir  Andrew  Trollope, 
whose  treachery  had  formerly  been  so  disastrous  to  the  cause  of  the  York- 
ists. The  e^rl  of  Devonshire,  who  was  among  the  prisoners,  was  carried 
before  Edward,  who  sternly  ordered  him  to  be  beheaded  and  his  head  to 
be  stuck  upon  the  gatt  of  York  castle ;  whence  the  heads  of  tiie  late  duke 
of  York  and  the  earl  of  Salisbury  were  now  taken  down.  Margaret  and 
her  unhappy  husband  were  fortunate  enough  to  escape  to  Scotland,  whither 
they  were  accompanied  by  the  duke  of  Somerset  and  by  the  duke  of  Exe- 
ter, who  had  sided  against  Edward,  although  he  had  married  his  sister. 
Scotland  was  so  much  torn  by  faction  that  the  Scottish  council  afforded 
but  little  encouragement  to  Margaret  to  even  hope  for  assistance,  until  she 
promised  to  give  up  Berwick  and  to  contract  for  a  marriage  of  her  son 
and  the  sister  of  King  James.  Even  then  the  friendship  of  the  Scots  did 
not  assume  an  aspect  very  threatening  to  Edward,  who  tranquilly  returned 
to  London  and  summoned  a  parliament. 

Edward's  success  rendered  this  parliament  very  r6*dy  to  recognise  his 
>'*'e  to  the  throne  by  descent  from  the  family  of  Mor':n»R''    it  uxoressed 


394 


THE  TREA8U11Y  OF  HI8T0EY. 


the  utmost  detestation  or  what  it  now  called  the  intriisiun  of  Henry  IV., 
annulled  all  grants  made  by  the  Lancastrians,  and  declared  Edward't  father 
rightly  seized  of  the  crown,  and  himself  the  rightful  king  from  the  very 
day  that  he  was  hailed  so  by  acclamation  of  the  soldiery  and  rabble,  which 
It  complacently  termed  "  the  people." 

A.  E.  1462.— Though  Edward  found  his  parliament  thus  accommodating:, 
he  soon  perceived  that  he  had  very  great  difficulties  to  contend  against  ere 
he  could  consider  himself  secure  in  his  possession  of  the  crown.  Not 
only  were  there  numerous  disorders  at  home,  the  necessary  result  of  civil 
war,  but  there  were  enemies  abroad.  France,  especially,  seemed  to 
threaten  Edward  with  annoyance  and  injury.  The  throne  of  that  country 
was  now  filled  by  Louis  XL,  a  wily,  resolute,  and  unsparing  despot.  For- 
tunately for  Edward,  however,  the  tortuous  policy  of  Louis  had  placed  him 
in  circumstances  which  rendered  his  power  to  injure  the  reigning  king  of 
England  very  unequal  indeed  to  his  will  to  do  so.  He  at  first  sent  only 
a  very  small  body  to  the  assistance  of  Margaret,  and  even  when  that  queen 
subsequently  paid  him  a  personal  visit  to  solicit  a  more  decided  and  effi- 
cient aid,  his  own  quarrels  with  the  independent  vassals  of  France  only 
allowed  him  to  spare  her  two  thousand  men-at-arms,  a  considerable 
force,  no  doubt,  but  very  unequal  to  the  task  of  opposing  such  a  prince 
as  Edward. 

With  this  force,  augmented  by  numerous  Scottish  adventurers,  Margaret 
made  an  irruption  into  the  northern  counties  of  England,  but  she  was  de- 
feated  by  Lord  Montague,  warder  of  the  eastern  marches  between  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  fir^t  at  Hedgeley  Inver,  and  then  at  Hexham.  In  the 
latter  action  Margaret's  force  was'  completely  destroyed.  Among  tlie 
prisoners  were  Sir  Humphrey  Neville,  the  duke  of  Somerset,  and  the 
lords  Hungerford  and  De  Roos,  all  of  whom,  with  many  gentleman  of  less 
note,  were  summarily  executed  as  traitors.  Henry,  who  had  been  as 
usual,  forced  to  the  battle-field,  was  for  a  time  concealed  by  some  of  his 
friends  in  Lancashire,  but  at  the  end  of  about  a  year  was  given  up  to  Ed- 
ward, who  held  him  in  too  much  contempt  to  injure  him  beyond  commit- 
ting him  to  close  custody  in  the  Tower  of  London. 

Margaret  after  her  escape  from  the  fatal  field  of  Hexham  went  through 
adventures  which  read  almost  like  the  inventions  of  romance.  She  was 
passing  through  a  forest  with  her  son  when  she  was  attacked  by  robbers, 
who,  treating  with  contempt  her  royal  rank,  robbed  her  of  her  valuable 
jewels  and  also  personally  ill  treated  her.  The  division  of  their  rich  booty 
caused  a  general  quarrel,  which  so  much  engaged  their  attention  that  Mar- 
garet and  her  son  were  enabled  to  escape.  She  was  again  stopped  in  the 
forest  by  a  single  robber,  to  whom — deriving  fearlessness  from  the  very 
desperation  of  her  circumstances — she  courageously  said,  "Here,  my 
friend,  is  the  son  of  your  king ;  to  your  honour  I  entrust  his  safety."  The 
bold  demeanour  of  the  queen  chanced  to  chime  in  with  the  robber's  hu- 
mour ;  he  vowed  himself  to  her  service,  and  protected  her  through  the 
forest  to  the  sea  coast,  whence  she  escaped  to  her  father's  cou.;,  where 
for  several  years  she  lived  in  a  state  of  ease  and  quietude  strangely  in 
contrast  with  the  stormy  life  she  so  long  had  been  accustomed  to  lead. 

Margaret  powerless,  Henry  imprisoned,  and  Louis  of  France  fully  en- 
gaged with  quarrels  nearer  home,  Edward  now  thought  himself  suffi- 
ciently secured  upon  his  throne  to  be  warranted  in  indulging  in  the  gay- 
eties  and  amours  which  were  so  well  «:uited  to  his  youth  and  temper- 
ament. But  though  his  gallantries  were  by  no  means  ill  taken  by  his 
good  citizens  of  London,  and  perhaps  even  made  him  more  popular  tiian 
a  prince  of  graver  life  would  have  been  at  that  time,  his  susceptibility  to 
the  charms  of  the  fair  at  length  involved  him  in  a  serious  quarrel. 

The  earl  of  Warwick  and  oilier  powerful  friends  of  Edward  advised 
him  to  marry,  a.id  thus,  by  his  matrirrionial  alliance,  still  farther  strengthen 


THB  TRBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


395 


nis  throne.  The  advice  tallied  well  with  Edward's  own  judgment,  and 
the  earl  of  Warwick  was  dispatched  to  Paris  to  treat  for  the  hand  of 
Bona  of  Savoy,  sister  of  the  queen  of  France,  and  Warwick  succeeded 
BO  well  that  he  returned  to  England  with  the  whole  affair  ready  for  for- 
mal ratification.  But  during  Warwick's  absence  his  fickle  and  amorous 
master  had  been  engaged  in  rendering  the  earl's  mission  not  merely  use- 
less, but  as  mischievous  as  anything  could  be  that  was  calculated  to  ex- 
cite the  hatred  and  rage  of  such  a  prince  as  Louis  XI. 

The  lady  Elizabeth,  widow  of  Sir  John  Grey,  of  Groby,  who  was  killed 
at  the  second  battle  of  St.  Albans,  was,  by  the  confiscation  of  her  hus- 
band's estates,  for  his  siding  with  the  Lancastrians,  so  reduced  in  her 
worldly  circumstances,  that  she  and  her  children  were  dependant  on  her 
father,  in  whose  house,  at  Grafton  in  Northamptonshire,  they  all  resided. 
She  was  still  young,  and  her  remarkable  beauty  was  little  impaired  by 
the  sorrows  she  had  endured;  and  the  king,  while  hunting,  chancing  to 
visit  Grafton,  the  lady  Elizabeth  took  the  opportunity  to  throw  herself  at 
his  feet  and  entreat  the  restoration  of  her  husband's  estates,  for  the  sake 
of  her  unfortunate  children.  At  sight  of  her  beauty,  heightened  by  her 
suppliant  attitude,  the  inflammable  king  fell  suddenly  and  deeply  in  love 
with  her.  He  in  his  turn  became  a  suitor,  and  as  her  prudence  or  her 
virtue  would  not  allow  her  to  listen  to  dishonourable  proposals,  the  in- 
fatuated monarch  privately  married  her. 

When  Warwick  returned  from  France  with  the  consent  of  Louis  to  the 
marriage  with  Bona  of  Savoy,  the  imprudent  marriage  of  the  king,  hith- 
erto kept  quite  secret,  was  of  necessity  divulged ;  and  Warwick,  indig- 
nant and  disgusted  with  the  ridiculous  part  he  had  been  made  to  play  in 
wooing  a  bride  for  a  prince  who  was  already  married,  left  the  court  with 
no  amicable  feelings  towards  his  wayward  master. 

A.  D.  1465. — The  mischief  of  Edward's  hasty  and  inconsiderate  al- 
liance did  not  end  here.  Like  all  persons  who  are  raised  much  above 
their  original  rank,  the  queen  was  exceedingly  presuming,  and  the  chief 
business  of  her  life  was  to  use  her  influence  over  her  still  enamoured 
husband  to  heap  titles  and  wealth  upon  her  family  and  friends,  and  to 
ruin  those  who  were,  or  were  suspected  to  be,  hostile  to  her  grasping  and 
ambitious  views.  Her  father,  a  mere  private  gentleman,  was  created 
earl  of  Rivers,  made  treasurer  in  the  room  of  the  lord  Mountjoy,  and  con- 
stable for  life,  with  succession  to  his  son,  who,  marrying  the  daughter  of 
Lord  Scales,  had  the  title  as  well  as  the  vast  estates  of  that  nobleman 
conferred  upon  him.  The  queen's  sisters  were  provided  with  proportion- 
ally splendid  marriages,  and  the  queen's  son  by  her  first  marriage,  young 
Sir  Thomas  Grey,  was  contracted  to  the  heiress  of  tl;>.  duke  of  Exeter, 
a  niece  of  the  king,  whose  hand  had  been  promised  to  Lord  Montague, 
who,  with  the  whole  powerful  Neville  family,  was  consequently  very 
deeply  offended. 

Tlie  exorbitant  and  insatiable  craving  of  the  queen's  family  disgusted 
every  one  ;  but  to  no  one  did  it  give  such  bitter  feelings  as  to  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  who,  though  from  his  favour  with  the  crown  he  had  made  up 
his  foitune  to  the  enormous  amount  of  eighty  thousand  crowns  per  an- 
num, as  we  learn  from  Philip  de  Comines,  was  himself  of  so  grasping  a 
nature  that  he  was  still  greedy  for  more  gain,  and,  perhaps,  still  more  dis- 
indiiied  to  see  others  in  possession  of  the  favour  and  influence  which  he 
formerly  had  almost  exclusively  enjoyed.  This  powerful  noble,  having 
vexations  of  this  kind  to  imbilter  his  anger  at  ihe  way  in  which  he  had 
been  treated  as  regarded  the  marriage,  was  urged  to  wishes  and  projects 
most  .oslile  to  Edward's  throne ;  and  as  many  of  the  nobility  were  much 
disgi'sted  with  Edward  on  account  of  his  resumption  of  grants,  Warwick 
had  '10  difficulty  in  findmg  sympathy  in  his  anger  and  association  in  his 
desKTiis. 


396 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Among  all  the  high  personages  of  the  kingdom  to  whom  Edward's  im 
prudent  marriage  and  uxorious  folly  gave  offence,  none  felt  more  deeply, 
perhaps  none  more  reasonably,  offended  than  Edward's  second  brother! 
the  duke  of  Clarence.     From  his  near  relationship  to  the  king  he  had 
every  ri{(ht  to  expect  the  most  liberal  treatment  at  his  hands ;  but  so  fat 
was  he  from  receiving  it,  that  while  the  queen  and  her  recently  obscure 
relations  were  overwhelmed  with  favours  of  the  most  costly  kind,  his 
fortunes  were  still  left  precarious  and  scanty.     Warwick,  a  shrewd  judge 
of  men's  tempers,  easily  descried  the  wounded  and  indignant  feelings  o( 
Clarence,  and  offered  him  the  hand  of  his  eldest  daughter,  who,  being 
Warwick's  co-heiress,  could  bring  the  duke  a  much  larger  fortune  than 
the  king  could  bestow  upon  him,  even  had  he  been  better  inclined  than 
he  had  hitherto  appeared,  to  mend  the  slender  fortunes  of  his  brother. 
Having  thus  united  the  influence  of  the  duke  of  Clarence  to  his  ownj 
and  engaged  him  inextricably  in  his  projects,  Warwick  had  no  difllculty 
in  forming  an  extensive  and  very  powerful  confederacy  against  the  king. 
A.  D.  1469. — The  unsettled  and  turbulent  temper  of  the  kingdom,  and 
the  preparatory  measures  of  such  a  confederacy,  so  headed,  could  not 
fail  to  produce  a  state  of  things  in  which  the  slightest  accidental  occur 
rence  might  lead  to  the  most  extensive  and  dangerous  public  disorders, 
especially  as  in  spite  of  all  Edward's  success,  and  the  stern  severity  with 
which  he  had  used  it,  there  was  still  remaining  throughout  the  country  a 
strong  'Ijough  a  concealed  attachment  to  the  ruined  house  of  Lancaster. 
A  grievance  which   at  first  sight  appeared  little  connected  with  state 
quarreh,  and  of  a  nature  to  be  easily  settled  by  so  arbitrary  a  monarch 
as  Edward,  caused  the  brooding  discontents  to  burst  forth  into  open  vio- 
lence. 

St.  Leonard's  hospital,  in  Yorkshire,  like  many  similar  establishments, 
had  from  a  very  early  age  possessed  the  right  of  receiving  a  thrave  of 
corn  from  every  ploughland  in  the  district ;  and  the  poor  complained, 
most  likely  with  great  reason,  that  this  tax,  which  was  instituted  for  their 
relief,  was  altogether,  or  nearly  so,  perverted  to  the  personal  emolument 
of  the  managers  of  the  charity.  From  complaints,  wholly  treated  with 
contempt  or  neglect,  the  peasantry  in  the  neighbourhood  proceeded  to  re- 
fusal to  pay  the  tax ;  and  when  their  goods  and  persons  were  molested  for 
their  contumacy,  they  fairly  took  up  arms,  and  having  put  to  death  the 
whole  of  the  hospital  officials,  they  marched,  full  fifteen  thousand  strong, 
to  the  gates  of  the  city  of  York.  Here  they  were  opposed  by  some 
troops  unde.  ihe  lord  Montague,  and  he  having  taken  prisoner  their  leader, 
by  name  Robert  Hulderne,  instantly  caused  him  to  be  executed,  after  the 
common  and  disgraceful  practice  of  those  violent  times. 

The  loss  of  their  leader  did  not  in  the  least  intimidate  the  rebels ;  they 
still  kept  in  arms,  and  were  now  joined  and  headed  by  friends  of  the  earl 
of  Warwick,  who  saw  in  this  revolt  of  the  peasantry  a  favourable  oppor- 
tunity for  aiding  their  own  more  extensive  and  ambitious  views. 

Sir  Henry  Neville  and  Sir  John  Conyers  having  placed  themselves  at 
the  head  of  the  rebels,  drew  them  off  from  their  merely  local  and  loosely 
contrived  plans  and  marched  them  southward,  their  numbers  increasing 
so  greatly  during  their  progress  as  to  cause  great  and  by  no  means  ill- 
founded  alarm  to  the  government.  Herbert,  who  had  obtained  the  earl- 
dom of  Pembroke  on  the  forfeiture  of  Jasper  Tudor,  was  ordered  to 
march  against  the  rebels  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  Welshmen,  reinforced 
by  five  thousand  well-appointed  archers  commanded  by  Stafford,  earl  of 
Devonshire,  who  had  obtained  that  title  on  the  forfeiture  of  the  great 
Courtney  family.  Scarcely  had  these  two  noblemen,  however,  joined 
their  forces,  when  a  quarrel  broke  out  between  them  upon  some  trivial 
question  about  priority  of  right  io  quarters,  and  so  utterly  forgetful  did 
the  angei  of  Devonshire  render  him  of  the  great  and  important  object  ol 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


397 


HIS  command,  that  he  sullenly  drew  ofT  his  valuable  force  of  archer:',  and 
left  the  earl  of  Pembroke  to  stand  the  brunt  of  the  approaching  encounter 
with  the  rebels  with  hia  own  unaided  and  inferior  force. 

Undismayed  by  this  defection  of  his  colleague,  Pembroke  continued  to 
approach  the  rebels,  when  the  hostile  forces  met  near  Banbury.  At  the 
first  encounter  Pembroke  gained  the  advantage,  and  Sir  Henry  Neville 
being  among  his  prisoners,  he  had  that  popular  gentleman  immediately 
executed.  If  this  severity  was  intended  to  strike  terror  into  the  rebels 
it  wholly  failed  of  its  purpose.  The  rebels,  so  far  from  being  intimidated, 
were  incited  by  their  rage  to  a  carnage  more  desperate  than,  probably, 
any  other  means  could  have  inspired  them  with,  and  they  attacked  the 
Welsh  so  furiously  that  the  latter  were  completely  routed,  and  vast  num- 
bers perished  in  the  pursuit,  the  Welsh  sternly  refusing  quarter.  Pem- 
broke being  unfortunately  taken  prisoner  by  the  rebels,  was  by  them  con- 
signed to  the  same  fate  which  he  had  inflicted  upon  their  leader.  The 
king  was  very  naturally  excited  to  the  utmost  indignation  by  the  fatal 
results  of  the  obstinacy  and  insubordination  of  the  earl  of  Devonshire, 
whom  he  caused  to  be  executed. 

Even  here  the  cold  butcheries  which  either  party  dignified  with  the 
name  of  executions  did  not  terminate.  Some  of  the  rebels,  dispatched 
to  Grafton  by  Sir  John  Conyers,  succeeded  in  capturing  the  queen's 
mother,  the  earl  of  Rivers,  and  his  son.  Sir  John  Grey ;  and,  their  sole 
crime  being  that  they  were  related  to  the  queen  and  tiiat  they  were  not 
philosophers  enough  to  refuse  to  profit  by  that  relationship,  they,  too, 
were  "  executed"  by  the  rebels. 

Though  there  is  no  reasonable  ground  for  doubting  that  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  and  his  son-in-law,  the  duke  of  Clarence,  were  the  re;il  direct- 
ors of  the  revolt,  they  deemed  it  politic  to  leave  its  public  management 
to  Neville  and  Conyers— doubtless  to  be  tolerably  sure  of  the  result  be- 
fore they  wonld  too  far  commit  their  personal  safety.  Accordingly  all 
the  while  that  so  much  bloodshed  had  been  going  on  in  England,  Warwick 
and  Clarence  lived  in  great  apparent  unconcern  at  Calais,  of  which  the 
former  was  governor,  and,  still  farther  to  conceal  their  ultimate  intentions 
from  the  king,  Warwick's  brother,  the  lord  Montague,  was  among  the 
bravest  and  most  active  of  the  opponents  of  the  rebels.  So  confident 
was  Warwick  that  the  suspicions  of  the  king  could  not  fall  upon  him, 
though  the  murder  of  the  earl  Rivers  was  surely  a  circumstance  to  have 
pointed  to  the  guilt  of  that  nobleman's  bitterest  rival,  that  he  and  Clar- 
ence, when  the  languid  rate  at  which  the  rebellion  progressed  seemed  to 
promise  a  disastrous  issue  to  it,  came  over  to  England,  and  were  entrust- 
ed by  Edward  with  very  considerable  commands,  which,  probably  from 
want  of  opportunity,  they  made  no  ill  use  of.  The  rebellion  having 
been  already  very  considerably  quelled,  Warwick,  probably  anxious  to 
save  as  many  malcontents  as  possible  for  a  future  and  more  favourable 
opportunity,  persuaded  Edward  to  grant  a  general  pardon,  wiiich  had  the 
effect  of  completely  dispersing  the  already  wearied  and  discouraged  rebels. 

Though  Warwick  and  Montague  gave  so  much  outward  show  of  loy- 
alty, and  though  the  king  heaped  favours  and  honours  upon  the  family,  he 
yet  seems  to  have  been  by  no  means  unaware  of  the  secret  feelings  of  both 
these  restless  noblemen;  for  on  one  occasion  when  he  accompanied  them 
to  a  banquet  given  by  their  brother,  the  archbishop  of  York,  he  was  so 
impressed  with  the  feeling  that  he  intended  to  take  that  opportunity  of 
dispatching  him  by  poison  or  otherwise,  that  he  suddenly  rushed  from  the 
banqueting  room  and  hastily  returned  to  his  palace. 

A.  D.  1470, — A  new  rebellion  now  broke  out.    At  the  outset  there  were 
no  signs  to  connect  either  Clarence  or  the  earl  of  Warwick  with  it ;  ye 
as  we  know  how  inveterately  disloyal  both  the  duke  and  the  earl  were 
from  the  moment  that  Edward  married,  and  also  that  as  soon  as  they  had 


t98 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


an  opportunity,  and  had  reason  to  believe  that  the  rebellion  would  be  buc 
cessful,  they  prepared,  as  will  be  seen,  to  add  open  revolt  to  the  foulebt 
treachery.    This  rebellion  commenced  in  Lincolnshire,  and  in  u  very 
■hort  time  the  leader  of  it,  Sir  Robert  Welles,  was  at  the  head  of  not  fewer 
than  thirty  thousand  men.    Sir  Robert's  father,  the  Lord  Welles,  not  only 
took  no  part  in  the  proceedings  of  his  son,  but  showed  his  sense  of  both 
their  danger  and  impropriety  dv  taking  shelter  in  a  sanctuary.     But  this 
prudent  conduct  dia  not  save  him  from  the  vengeance  of  the  king.    The 
unfortunate  nobleman  was  by  plausible  arguments  allured  from  the  sanc- 
tuary, and,  in  company  of  Sir  Thomas  Dymoke,  beheaded  by  the  king's 
orders.     Edward  soon  after  gave  battle  to  the  rebels  and  defeated  them, 
and  Sir  Robert  Welles  and  Sir  Thomas  Launde  being  taken  prisoners, 
were  immediately  beheaded.     So  little  did  the  king  suspect  Clarence  and 
Warwick  of  any  concealed  influence  in  these  disturbances,  that  he  gave 
them  commissions  of  array  to  raise  troops  to  oppose  the  rebels.    The  op- 
portunity  thus  afforded  them  of  forwarding  their  treasonable  views  was 
too  tempting  to  be  resisted,  and  they  at  once  removed  all  doubts  as  to  their 
real  feelings  by  levying  forces  against  the  king,  and  issuing  remonstrances 
against  the  public  measures  and  the  king's  ministers.     The  defeat  of  Sir 
Robert  Welles  was  a  sad  discouragement  to  them,  but  they  had  now  pro- 
ceeded too  far  to  be  able  to  withdraw,  and  they  marched  their  army  into 
Lancashire.     Here  they  fully  expected  the  countenance  and  aid  of  Sir 
Thomas  Stanley,  who  was  the  earl  of  Warwick's  brother-in-law,  but  find- 
ing  that  neither  that  nobleman  nor  the  lord  Montague  would  join  them, 
tliey  dismissed  their  army  and  hastened  to  Calais  (the  government  ol 
Warwick)  where  they  confidently  calculated  upon  finding  a  sure  and  safe 
refuge.     Here  again,  however,  they  were  doomed  to  be  disappointed.    On 
leaving  Calais  the  last  time,  Warwick  had  left  there,  as  his  deputy  gov- 
ernor, a  Gascon  named  Vaucler.    This  gentleman,  who  was  no  stran- 
ger to  Warwick's  disloyalty,  readily  judged  by  the  forlorn  and  ill-attended 
style  in  which  that  nobleman  and  the  duke  of  Clarence  now  made  their 
appearance  before  Calais,  that  they  had  been  unsuccessfully  engaged  in 
some  illegal  proceeding ;  he  therefore  refused  them  admittance,  and  would 
not  even  allow  the  duchess  of  Clarence  to  land,  though  she  had  been  de- 
livered  of  a  child  while  at  sea,  and  was  in  a  most  pitiable  state  of  ill  health. 
As,  however,  he  by  no  means  wished  to  break  irremediably  with  men 
whom  some  chance  might  speedily  render  as  powerful  as  ever,  Vaucler 
sent  wine  and  other  stores  for  the  use  of  the  duchess,  and  secretly  assured 
Warwick  that  he  only  seemed  to  side  against  him,  in  order  that  he  might, 
by  gaining  tiie  confidence  of  the  king,  be  able  to  give  tlie  fortress  up  to 
the  earl  at  the  first  opportunity;  and  he  dilated  upon  those  circumstances 
of  the  place  which  rendered  it  very  improbable  that  the  garrison  and  in- 
habitants would  just  at  that  time  sufTer  it  to  be  held  by  Warwick  against 
the  established  government  of  England.    Whatever  might  be  Warwick's 
real  opinion  of  the  sincerity  of  Vaucler,  he  feigned  to  be  quite  satisfied 
with  his  conduct,  and  having  seized  some  Flemish  vessels  which  lay  off 
the  coast,  he  forthwith  departed  to  try  his  fortune  at  the  court  of  France. 
Here  he  was  well  received,  for  the  French  king  had  formerly  held  a  close 
correspondence  with  the  earl,  and  was  just  now  exceedingly  hostile  to 
Edward  on  account  of  the  friendship  which  existed  between  that  monarch 
and  the  most  turbulent  as  well  as  the  most  powerful  vassal  of  France, 
the  duke  of  Burgundy.    Though  the  earl  of  Warwick  had  so  much  reason 
to  hate  the  house  of  Lancaster,  the  king  so  urgently  pressed  him  to  a  re- 
conciliation, and  to  attempt  to  restore  that  house  to  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land, that  at  an  interview  with  Queen  Margaret  the  earl  consented  to  a 
reconciliation,  and  to  doing  his  utmost  to  restore  Henry  to  his  throne  on 
rertaiii  conditions.     The  chief  of  these  conditions  were,  that  the  earl  of 
*.^/ar\viek  and  tiie  duke  of  Clarence  should  administer  in  England  during 


THE  TRKA8UHY  OF  HISTORY. 


39<J 


(he  whole  minority  of  Prince  Kdward,  son  and  lieir  of  Henry  ;  that  that 
ycung  prince  should  marry  the  lady  Anne,  Warwick'H  Hccond  d;iii}{hter, 
and  that,  failing  issue  to  thorn,  tjio  crown  should  be  entailed  on  tho  duke 
of  Clarence,  tu  the  absolute  exclusion  of  vhe  issue  of  the  reignin  '  king. 
By  way  of  nhowing  the  sincerity  of  this  unnatural  confederacy,  :ce 
Gdwaru  and  the  lachr  Anne  were  married  immediately. 

Edward,  who  well  knew  the  innate  and  ineradicable  hostility  of  War- 
wick's real  feelings  towards  the  house  of  Lancaster,  canned  a  lady  of 
^reat  talent  to  avail  herself  of  her  situation  about  the  person  of  the  duke 
uf  Clarence,  to  influence  the  duke's  mind.especialy  with  a  view  to  making 
him  doubtful  of  the  sincerity  of  Warwick,  and  of  the  probability  of  his 
lung  continuing  faithful  to  this  new  alliance ;  and  so  well  did  the  fair  envoy 
exert  her  powers,  that  tho  duke,  on  a  solemn  assurance  of  Kdward's  for- 
giveness and  future  favour,  consented  to  take  the  earliest  favourable  op- 
portunity to  desert  his  father-in-law.  Hut  while  Edward  was  intent  upon 
detaching  the  duke  of  Clarence  from  Warwick,  this  latter  nobleman  was 
no  less  successful  in  gaining  over  to  his  side  his  brother,  the  marquis  of 
Montague,  whose  adhesion  to  Warwick  was  the  more  dangerous  to  Ed- 
ward because  Montague  was  entirely  in  his  confidence. 

When  Warwick  had  completed  his  preparations,  Louis  supplied  him 
with  men,  money,  and  a  fleet;  while  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  on  the  other 
hand,  closely  united  with  Edward,  and  having  a  personal  quarrel  with 
Warwick,  cruised  in  tho  channel  in  the  hope  of  intercepting  that  nobleman 
ere  he  could  land  in  England.  The  duke  of  Burgundy,  while  thus  actively 
exerting  himself  for  Edward's  safety,  also  sent  him  the  most  urgent  and 
wise  advice ;  but  Edward  was  so  over  confident  in  his  own  strength,  that 
he  professed  to  wish  that  Warwick  mi^ht  make  good  his  landing. 

In  this  respect  his  wish  was  soon  granted.  A  violent  storm  dispersed 
the  duke  of  Burgundy's  fleet,  and  Warwick  was  thus  enabled  to  land  with- 
out opposition  on  the  coast  of  Devon,  accompanied  by  the  duke  of  Cla- 
rence and  the  earls  of  Oxford  and  Pembroke.  The  king  was  at  this  time 
In  the  north  of  England  engaged  in  putting  down  a  revolt  caused  by  War- 
wick's brother-in-law,  the  lord  Fitzhugh ;  and  Warwick's  popularity  being 
thus  left  unopposed,  he,  who  had  landed  with  a  force  far  too  small  for  his 
designs,  saw  himself  in  a  very  few  days  at  the  head  of  upwards  of  sixty 
thousand  men. 

The  king  on  hearing  of  Warwick's  landing  hastened  southward  to  meet 
him,  and  the  two  armies  came  in  sight  of  each  other  at  Nottingham.  An 
action  was  almost  hourly  expected,  and  Edward  was  still  confldent  in  his 
good  fortune ;  but  he  was  now  to  feel  the  ill  effects  of  the  overweening 
trust  lie  had  put  in  the  marquis  of  Montague.  That  nobleman  suddenly 
[rot  his  adherents  under  arms  during  tho  darkness  of  the  night  hours,  and 
made  their  way  to  the  quarter  occupied  by  the  king,  shouting  the  war-cry 
of  the  hostile  army.  Edward,  who  was  awakened  by  this  sudden  tumult, 
was  informed  by  Lord  Hastings  of  the  real  cause  of  it,  and  urged  to  save 
himself  by  flight  while  there  was  still  time  for  him  to  do  so.  So  well  had 
the  marquis  of  Montague  timed  his  treacherous  measure,  that  Edward  Imd 
barely  time  to  make  his  escape  on  horseback  to  Lynn,  in  Norfolk,  where 
he  got  on  board  ship  and  sailed  from  England,  leaving  Warwick  so  sud- 
denly and  rapidly  master  of  tiie  kingdom,  that  the  fickle  and  hesitating 
Clarence  had  not  had  time  for  tho  change  of  sides  he  had  contemplated, 
Hiid  which  would  now  have  been  fatal  to  him. 

So  sudden  had  been  Edward's  forced  departure  from  his  kingdom,  that 
he  had  not  time  to  take  money,  jewels,  or  any  other  valuables  with  him  ; 
and  when,  after  narrowly  escaping  from  the  Hanse  towns,  then  at  war 
with  both  England  and  France,  he  landed  at  Alcniaer,  in  Holland,  he  had 
lolhing  with  which  to  recompense  the  masterof  thesliip  save  a  robe  richh 


100 


THK  TaSASURY  OF  HI8T0KY. 


lined  with  sable  Tur,  which  he  accompanied  with  asiuraiices  of  a  mort 
■ubstantial  recompense  should  more  prosperous  times  return. 

The  duke  of  Uurgundy  was  greatly  annoyed  at  the  misfortune  of  Rd- 
ward.  Personally  and  in  sincerity  the  duke  really  preferred  the  Lancas. 
triaa  to  the  Yorkist  house ;  ho  had  allied  himself  With  the  latter  solely 
from  the  politic  motivo  of  beini;  allied  to  the  reigning  house  of  Knglurid  ; 
and  now  that  the  Lancasirians  were  so  triumphant  that  even  the  cautious 
Vaucler,  who  had  been  confirmed  by  Edward  in  his  government  of  Calais, 
did  not  scruple  to  give  that  important  place  up  to  Warwick — a  pretty 
certain  proof  that  the  Lancastrians  were  secure  for  some  time  at  least— 
the  duke  was  greatly  perplexed  by  the  necessity  he  was  under  of  invid- 
iously giving  a  cold  reception  to  a  near  connection  who  was  sufTering 
from  misfortune,  or  of  being  at  the  expense  and  discredit  of  supporting  a 
penniless  fugitive  whose  very  misfortunes  were  in  no  slight  degree  attri- 
butable to  his  own  want  of  judgment. 

The  flight  of  Edward  from  the  kingdom  was  the  signal  for  Warwick  to 
five  liberty  to  the  unhappy  Henry,  whose  confinement  in  the  Tower  had 
been  chiefly  the  earl's  own  work.  Henry  was  once  more  proclaimed  king 
with  all  due  solenmity,  and  a  parliament  was  summoned  to  meet  him  Ht 
Westminster,  whose  votes  were,  of  course,  the  mere  echoes  of  the  in. 
sructions  of  the  more  dominant  faction  of  Warwick.  As  had  formerly 
been  agreed  between  Warwick  and  Queen  Margaret,  it  was  now  eniietcd 
by  the  parliament  that  Henry  was  the  rightful  and  only  kin^  of  England, 
but  that  his  imbecility  of  mind  rendered  it  requisite  to  have  n.  regency,  the 
powers  of  which  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  duke  of  Clarence  and  the 
earl  of  Warwick  during  the  minority  of  Prince  Edward,  atid  the  duke  of 
Clarence  was  declared  heir  to  the  throne  failing  the  issue  of  that  young 
prince.  As  usual,  very  much  of  the  time  of  the  parliameiit  was  occupied 
HI  reversing  the  attainders  which  had  been  passed  against  Lancastrians 
during  the  prosperity  of  the  house  of  York.  In  one  respect,  however,  this 
parliament  and  its  dictator  Warwick  deserve  considerable  praise — their 
power  was  used  without  that  wholesale  and  unsparing  resort  to  bloodsheii 
by  which  sucii  triumphs  are  but  too  generally  disgraced.  Many  of  th« 
leading  Yorkists,  it  is  true,  fled  beyond  the  sea,  but  still  more  of  then 
were  allowed  to  remain  undisturbed  in  the  -anctuaries  in  which  they  tooi 
refuge;  and  among  these  was  even  Edwaid  j  queen,  who  was  delivereo 
of  a  son  whom  she  had  christened  by  the  name  of  his  absent  father. 

A.  D.  1471. — Queen  Margaret,  who  was  perhaps,  somewhat  loss  active 
than  she  had  been  in  earlier  life,  was  just  preparing  to  return  to  England 
with  Prince  Edward  and  the  duke  of  Somerset,  son  to  the  duko  of  that 
title  who  was  beheaded  after  the  battle  of  Hexham,  when  their  journey 
was  rendered  useless  by  a  new  turn  in  the  affairs  of  Eiigland  ;  a  turn  most 
lamentable  to  those  Lancastrians  who,  as  Philip  de  Comines  tells  us  of 
the  dukes  of  Somerset  and  Exeter,  were  reduced  to  absolute  beggary. 
The  turn  of  affairs  to  which  we  allude  was  mainly  caused  by  the  impru- 
dence of  the  earl  of  Warwick,  who  acted  towards  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
in  such  wise  as  to  compel  that  prince  in  sheer  self-defence  to  aid  the 
exiled  Edward.  The  duke's  personal  predilections  being  really  on  tiie 
side  of  the  Lancastrians,  it  required  only  a  timely  and  prudent  policy  on 
the  part  of  the  earl  of  Warwick  to  have  secured,  at  the  least,  the  duke's 
neutrality.  But  the  earl,  laying  too  much  stress  upon  the  relationship  be- 
tween Edward  and  Burgundy,  took  it  for  granted  that  the  latter  must  be  a 
determined  enemy  to  the  Lancastrians,  and  caused  him  to  become  so  by 
sendmg  a  body  of  four  thousand  men  to  Calais,  whence  they  made  very 
mischievous  irruptions  into  the  iiow  Countries.  Burgundy,  fearing  the 
consequences  of  being  attacked  at  once  by  France  and  by  England,  de- 
termined to  divert  the  attention  and  power  of  the  latter  by  assisting  hi? 
orother-iu-Iaw.     But  while  detern'ined  so  to  aid  Edward  as  to  enable  hiui 


THF,  TRKA8URY  OF  HISTOR/. 


401 


m  qiyn  Warwick's  pnrly  iiljiindiuil  anxirty  and  troiiMe,  tlio  duke  wjw  not 
(lit)  If'SH  ciin'rul  to  do  HO  vvitli  tfic  iitiiioitt  iittciitiiMi  to  tlie  pri'si-rvatioii  of 
friendly  a|i|ii'<'iriiii('('S  tow;irds  t)i<>  KiigliNli  (((tvcnniKMit.  With  this  view 
1.0  furnished  I'Mward  with  ('ii^htciMi  vcH«ids,  larj,'t' uiid  Miiiail,  lo^i'tlicr  with 
a  sum  of  iiioiH'y  ;  but  hu  hired  tlit!  veMMcli  in  the  iiaiiie  of  soini!  luercliaiitH, 
mill  Htill  fiirthor  to  inirileai]  Warwick,  or  to  (,'iv(!  hiin  a  plaiisihle  rcanon  for 
pretending  to  ho  misled,  no  MODiier  had  Kdward  sailed  iliaii  the  duke  puh 
lii-ly  forbado  his  subjects  fnnii  atTordin^  uiiy  aid  or  cuuntuuance  to  that 
[irinco  cither  by  land  or  water. 

Kdward  in  the  ntcaiitime,  with  a  force  of  two  thousand  men,  attempted 
to  land  upon  the  coast  of  Norfolk,  but  was  driven  olT,  and  he  iIkmi  landed 
at  Ravenspur,  in  Yorkshire.  I'erceiviniif  that  hero,  too,  from  the  care 
whir-h  Warwick  had  taken  to  fill  tlin  majjisiiacy  with  his  own  pariizans, 
the  Ijancastrian  party  was  far  the  most  popul  ir  and  powerful,  Kdward 
adopted  the  policy  winch  had  formerly  so  well  served  the  duke  of  Lan- 
caster, and  issued  a  proclamation  in  which  he  solemnly  averred  that  ho  had 
landed  without  any  intention  of  challenging  the  crown  or  of  disturbing  the 
iKilioiial  peace,  but  had  come  solely  for  lh(!  purpose  of  demanding  the 
family  possessions  of  the  house  of  York,  to  which  he  was  incontestibly 
entitled.  This  aflTccted  moderation  caused  great  numbers  to  join  his 
standard  who  would  not  have  done  so  had  he  openly  avowed  his  intention 
of  endeavouring  to  recover  the  crown ;  and  he  speedily  found  himself 
possesseil  of  the  city  of  York  and  at  the  head  of  an  army  sufTiciently 
numerous  to  promise  him  success  in  all  his  designs ;  while  his  chance 
of  success  was  still  further  increased  by  the  unaccountable  apathy  of  the 
marquis  of  Montague,  who  liad  the  command  of  all  the  forces  in  the 
north,  but  took  no  steps  to  check  the  movements  of  Kdward,  though  he 
surely  could  not  have  been  unaware  how  important  and  dangerous  they 
were.  Warwick  was  more  alert,  and  having  assembled  a  force  at  Lei- 
cester ho  prepared  to  give  battle  to  Edward,  who,  however,  contrived  to 
pass  him  and  to  make  his  way  to  London.  ILid  Kdward  been  refused  ad- 
mittance here,  nothing  couhl  have  saved  his  cause  from  complete  ruin  ; 
but  he  had  not  taken  so  bold  a  step  without  carefully  and,  as  it  proved, 
correctly  calculating  all  his  chances.  In  the  first  place,  the  sanctuaries 
of  London  were  filled  with  his  friends,  who  he  well  knew  would  join  him ; 
in  tlie  next  place,  he  was  extremely  popular  with  the  ladies  of  London, 
and  indebted  to  their  husbands  for  sums  of  money  which  they  could  nevet 
hope  to  receive  unless  he  should  succeed  in  recovering  the  crown  ;  and  in 
the  third  place,  Warwick's  brother,  the  archbishop  of  York,  to  whom  th« 
government  of  tiie  city  was  entrusted,  gave  a  new  instance  of  the  facile 
and  shameless  treachery  which  disgraced  tlia'.  ''me,  by  entering  into  a 
correspondence  with  Edward,  and  agreeing  to  betray  his  own  brother. 

Being  admitted  into  the  city  of  London,  Kdward  made  himself  master 
of  the  person  of  the  unfortunate  Henry,  who  was  thus  once  more  passed 
from  the  throne  to  the  dungeon. 

Though  many  circumstances  gave  advantage  to  Edward,  the  earl  ol 
Warwick  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  yield  without  a  fairly  stricken  field, 
and  having  collected  all  the  force  he  could  raise  he  stationed  himself  at 
Barnet.  Here  he  was  doomed  to  the  deep  mortification  of  fully  experi- 
encing the  ingratitude  and  treachery  of  Clarence,  who  suddenly  broke 
from  his  quarters  during  the  night,  and  made  his  way  over  to  Edward 
with  twelve  thousand  of  Warwick's  best  troops.  Had  Warwick  listened 
to  the  dictates  of  prudence  he  would  now  have  closed  with  the  offers  of  a 
peaceful  settlement  which  were  made  to  him  by  both  Edward  and  Cla- 
rence; but  he  was  thoroughly  aroused  and  enraged,  and  he  resolved  to 
put  all  consequences  upon  the  issue  of  a  general  action.  It  commenced 
uccordingly,  and  both  leaders  and  soldiers  on  each  side  displayed  extraor 
(lin;irv  valour.  A  mere  accident  gave  a  decisive  turn  to  the  lor.^  uncer 
Voi,.  I — '2n 


40] 


THB  THRASnilY  Of  III8T0HT. 


Iniii  foriiiiii'  of  tho  dny.  The  (•(i^iii/aiic*!  of  the  kinjy  wa«  a  mm,  Ihnt  of 
Wiirvvii  k  it  Hiar  witli  niys  iliviTifinK  from  it  ;  and  in  (lu;  drnM;  mist  which 
nrevailr.l  diiriii;,'  llir  l)aiil('  the  nirl  «»f  Oxford  whh  mistaken  for  a  Yorkish 
leader,  and  Uv  and  his  trooiiH  were  hfalcn  from  tin;  fii  Id  with  very  iu:ri'at 
Hluiitfhlcr  hy  h\n  own  frii'iKln.  This  diHiisler  was  followed  hy  tlm  dcatii 
of  Warwick,  who  was  HJain  whilt?  flgiitiiitf  on  foot,  hm  wan  liiH  hrother 
Montague.  The  Lancastrians  were  now  crompletely  routed,  and  Kdward 
givinjj  ordertJ  to  deny  ijiiartcr,  a  vast  nuinhcr  w«re  Niain  in  the  piirHiiit  ai 
well  as  in  thr  hatth;.  Nor  was  the  victory  wholly  without  coHt  to  1||4> 
(•onqiirtrors,  who  loHt  upwards  of  fifteen  hundred  men  of  all  raiikH. 

Ah  Warwick  had  determineil  not  to  make  terms  with  Kdward,  his  heflt 
policy  would  have  been  to  await  the  arrival  of  tjuoen  Marifaret,  w  ho  \va» 
daily  «;xpccl(.'d  from  Fraiici;,  and  whose  influeiico  would  have  iiiiiied  all 
Lancastrians  and  jirobahly  have  ensured  victory.  Hut  Warwick,  unsus- 
picious  of  ('larence's  treachery,  I'cit  so  confident  of  victory,  thai  he  was 
aiiove  all  things  anxious  tliat  Margaret  should  not  arrive  in  time  to  shara 
his  anticipated  g:lory ;  hut  thou<{li  he  had  on  that  account  hurried  on  the 
action,  Marg.tret  and  her  son,  attended  hy  a  small  body  of  h'rcmdi,  laiidol 
in  Dorsetshire  on  the  very  day  afi(;r  the  fatal  battle  of  Hariiet.  Ilere  as 
soon  as  she  landed  slu;  learned  Warwick's  defeat  and  death,  and  the  new 
captivity  of  h^  iiiveterately  unfortunate  huslmnd ;  and  she  was  so  much 
depressed  by  the  information  that  she  took  .saii(;tuary  at  Heaulieu  abbey. 
She  was  here  visited  and  encouraged  by  Tudor,  earl  of  Pembroke,  ('our- 
icnay,  earl  of  Devonshire,  and  othcT  men  of  rank  and  influence,  and  in- 
duced to  make  a  progress  through  Devon,  Soin(!rs(!t,  and  (iloucesttirshire. 
In  this  neigiibourhood  her  cause  appeared  to  be  excceiliiigly  popular,  for 
every  day's  march  made  a  consid(!ral)Ie  addition  to  her  force.  She  was 
at  ioiiglli  overtaken  at  Tewkesbury,  in  (iloucestcrsliire,  by  Kdwanl's  army, 
and  ill  the  battle  which  ensued  she  was  completely  defeated,  with  the  loss 
of  about  three  thousand  men,  among  whom  were  the  earl  of  Devonshire 
and  Lord  Wenlock,  who  were  killed  in  the  field,  and  the  duke  of  Somerset 
and  about  a  score  more  persons  tif  distinction  who,  having  taken  sanctuary 
in  a  church,  were  draggled  out  and  beheaded. 

Among  the  prisoners  wen;  Queen  .Margaret  and  her  son.  They  were 
taken  into  the  prcjsence  of  Edward,  who  sternly  demanded  of  the  young 
prince  on  what  ground  he  had  ventured  to  invade;  England.  The  high- 
spirited  boy,  regarding  rather  the  fortune  to  which  he  was  born  than  llie 
powerless  and  perilous  situation  in  which  the  adver.se  fortune  of  war  had 
placed  him,  boldly  and  imprudently  replied  that  be  had  (;oine  to  England 
for  the  rightful  purpose  of  claiming  liis  just  inheritance.  This  answer  so 
much  enraged  Edward,  that  he,  forgetful  alike  of  decency  and  mercy, 
struck  the  youth  in  the  face  with  his  gauntletcd  hind.  As  though  this 
violent  act  had  been  a  preconcerted  signal,  the  dukes  of  Gloucester  and 
Clarence,  with  Lord  Hastings  and  Sir  Thomas  (tray,  dragged  the  young 
prince  into  an  adjoining  room  and  there  dispatched  him  with  their  daggers. 
The  unhappy  Margaret  was  committed  to  close  conrincmcntin  the  Tower, 
in  which  sad  prison  Henry  had  expired  a  few  days  after  the  battle  oi 
Tewkesbury.  As  Henry's  health  had  long  been  infirm,  it  seems  quite 
likely  that  his  death  was  natural,  but  as  the  temper  of  the  times  made 
violence  at  the  least  probable,  Edward  caused  the  body  to  be  exposed  to 
public  view,  and  it  certainly  show  jd  no  signs  of  unfair  means. 

The  cause  of  the  Lancastrians  was  now  extinguished.  The  princes  ot 
that  house  were  dead,  the  best  and  most  devoted  of  its  friends  were  either 
fugitive  or  dead,  and  Tudor,  carl  of  Pembroke,  who  had  been  raising 
forces  in  Wales,  now  disbanded  them  in  despair,  and  sought  safety,  with 
his  nephew,  the  earl  of  Richmond,  in  Brittany.  The  last  effort  was  made 
by  the  bastard  of  Falconberg,  who  levied  forces  and  advanced  to  London 
but  he  was  deserted  by  his  troops,  taken  prisoner,  and  executed 


Edwa 

piiaiitly 
reMUMU'iJ 
iif  that  I 
nil  lice  (J 
ueiiring 

Kdw.ii 
by  the  n 
means  ui 
given  to 
of  iiiterc 
king  of  1' 
till,'  .sea  w 
ill  which 
he  could 
for  Kiigia 
sible  the  ( 
tli'i  right ; 
Muinc  flirt 
all  feudal 
more  like 
the  co-opi 
aiice  of  tl 
Queiitin  a 
liicni  whe 
A  EreiK 
P^iiglish  p 
pound  on 
this  mone] 
tributors  ii 
Fi'oin  this 
commons 
how  to  ma 
A.  D.  147 
the  powerl 
iiKitcad  of 
Ci'lais  wit 
Bu',  to  E<h 
poiuled  by 
by  the  duli 
forces,  had 
of  German 
the  (iery  te 
time  confei 
available  ti 
cian  who  t 
views,  no 
than  he  se 
between  tl 
agreeing  to 
to  marry 
monarclis 
ivliich  wen 
siiic  give  u! 
tuited  hims 
There  v, 
—which  wi 
for  the  s?*"" 


THE  Tlir  4SURY  or  UI8TORT. 


EdWHiil,  now  wholly  ti  iiiiiiphtiiit,  Hiiiniiioiird  a  parlianirnt,  wliich  coin- 
pliaillly  Kttiu  tiuiK'il  IiIn  tIttMis;  and  all  (l.iti({tTS  hi'iiig  now  iit  an  (mkI,  he 
rftRiiiiieil  lht>  lovial  hixI  (li!<ai|ialt'd  lilV  to  which  ht>  owed  no  Ninall  (lorlion 
i)f  thai  puptdarity  which  wdtdil,  inuht  pniliahly,  liavti  Ix-cii  rid'utifd  to  m 
iiiiiico  uf  ,t  higher  cast  of  character  and  uf  more  miiily  and  dii'inficil 
b4;ariiig. 

Kdwaid,  however,  was  houu  rccalh-d  from  his  indulgence  in  pleaHuro, 
liy  the  iKu  I  .sttiiy  for  attending  to  hiM  foreign  inlercHtH.  lie  was  hy  no 
means  uncunscioUH  of  the  cold  and  conslrained  rece[)tion  that  had  been 
given  t<<  li  111  in  his  adversity  hy  the  duke  of  Uiirgundy  ;  hut  consideratioim 
of  intert.M  now  led  Kdward  to  make  a  league  with  the  duke  against  the 
king  of  France.  Hy  this  league  it  was  provided  that  Kdward  should  cross 
the  sea  with  not  fcw<!r  than  ten  thousand  men  for  the  invasion  of  France, 
ill  wlii<!li  he  was  to  be  joined  hy  ilie  duke  of  Uurgundy  with  all  the  force 
lie  could  command.  'I'ho  objects  proposed  by  the  allies  were  to  aciiinn' 
for  I'iiigliuid  the  provinces  of  Normandy  and  Gniemie,  at  least,  and  if  pos 
sible  tlie  crown  of  France,  to  which  Kdward  was  formally  to  challenge 
thi  right ;  while  llw!  duke  of  Burgundy  was  to  obtain  (Jliainpagne,  with 
some  further  territory,  and  the  freedom  for  his  hereditary  territories  from 
iill  feudal  superiority  on  the  part  of  France.  Their  league  seemed  the 
more  likely  to  be  successful,  be(!ause  they  had  good  reason  to  hope  for 
the  cooperation  of  the  duke  of  Urittaiiy,  and  they  had  the  secret  assur- 
ance of  the  count  of  St.  I'ol,  who  was  constable  of  France,  and  held  St. 
Qiientin  and  other  imuortant  places  on  the  Sommc,  that  he  would  join 
diem  when  they  shouUi  enter  h  ranee. 

A  French  war  was  always  sure  to  excite  the  pecuniary  liberality  of  the 
English  parliament,  which  now  granted  the  king  two  shillings  in  the 
pound  on  all  rents,  and  a  fifteenth  and  three  quarters  of  a  fif'eeiith;  but 
this  money  was  to  be  kept  in  religious  houses,  and  rrtjriied  to  the  con- 
tributors in  the  event  of  the  expedition  agaiit"t  France  not  taking  place. 
From  this  stringent  care  of  the  money  we  may  perceive  how  much  the 
cumiiiuns  of  England  had  increased,  both  in  power  and  in  the  knowledge 
how  to  make  efHcient  and  prudent  use  of  it. 

A.  D.  1475. — So  popular  was  the  king's  project  against  France,  that  all 
the  powerful  nobles  of  Fngland  ofTered  him  their  aid  and  attendance  ;  and 
iiKilcad  of  the  stipulated  ten  thousand  men,  he  was  enabled  to  land  at 
Ci'lais  with  fifteen  thousand  archers  and  fifteen  hundred  men-at-arms. 
Bu'.  to  Kdward's  great  annoyance,  when  he  entered  France  he  was  disap- 
poiiited  by  the  count  of  St.  Pol,  who  refused  to  open  his  gates  to  him,  and 
by  tlie  duke  of  Burgundy,  who,  instead  of  joining  Kdward  with  all  his 
forces,  had  employed  them  against  the  duke  of  Lorraine  and  on  the  frontiers 
of  Germany.  This  circumslance,  so  fatal  to  Edward's  views,  arose  out  of 
the  fiery  temper  of  Burgundy,  who  personally  apologized,  but  at  the  same 
lime  confessed  that  it  wouhi  be  impossible  for  hini  to  make  his  troops 
available  to  Edward  for  that  campaign.  Louis  XL,  that  profound  piditi- 
ciaii  who  thought  nothing  mean  or  degrading  which  could  aid  him  in  his 
views,  no  sooner  learned  the  disappoiiilmeut  which  had  befallen  Edward, 
than  he  sent  him  proposals  of  psace;  and  a  truce  was  easily  concluded 
between  them,  Louis  paying  seventy-five  thousand  crowns  down,  and 
agreeing  to  pay  two-thirds  of  that  sum  annually  for  their  joint  lives,  and 
to  marry  the  dauphin,  when  of  age,  to  Edward's  daughter.  The  two 
iiioiiarchs  met  at  Pecquigin  to  ratify  this  treaty ;  and  the  precautions 
which  were  taken  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  assassination  on  either 
side  give  us  but  a  low  notion  of  the  honour  by  which  either  prince  was  ac- 
luited  himself  or  supposed  tlie  other  to  be. 

There  v.as  one  clause  of  this  treaty — otherwise  so  disgraceful  to  Louis 
—which  was  highly  creditable  to  the  French  king.  By  it  he  stipulated 
for  the  s?**"  release  of  the  unfoitunate  Margaret,  for  whose  ransom  Louti 


404 


THE  TRBASim*  Of  HIBTOEY. 


consented  to  pay  fifty  thousand  crowns.  She  vas  released  accordingly, 
and  until  her  death,  which  occurred  in  1482,  she  hved  in  complete  seclu-' 
sion  from  that  world  in  which  she  had  formerly  played  so  conspicuous 
and  so  unfortunate  a  part. 

There  was  in  tlie  character  of  Edward  a  certain  cold  and  stubborn 
severity  which  made  it  no  easy  matter  to  rccovrr  his  favour  after  he  had 
once  been  offended.  His  brother  Clarence,  much  as  he  had  done  in  the 
way  of  treachery  towards  his  unfortunate  father-in-law,  was  far  enough 
from  being  really  restored  to  Edward's  confidence  and  favour.  The 
brooding  dislike  of  the  king  was  the  more  fatal  to  Clarence  from  that  un- 
fortunate prince  having  imprudently  given  deep  offence  to  the  queen  and 
,  to  his  brother  the  duke  of  Gloster,  a  prince  who  knew  not  much  of  truth 
or  of  remorse  when  he  had  any  scheme  of  ambition  or  violence  to  carry. 
Well  knowing  the  rash  and  open  temper  of  Clarence,  his  formidable 
enemies  determined  to  act  upon  it  by  attacking  his  friends,  which  they 
rightly  judged  would  be  sure  to  sting  him  into  language  th.'.t  would  ruin 
him  with  his  already  suspicious  and  offended  king  and  brother. 

It  chanced  that  as  the  king  was  hunting  at  A.rrow,  in  "WarwicksJiire 
he  killed  a  white  buck  which  was  a  great  favourite  of  the  owner,  a  wealthy 
gentleman  named  Burdett.  Provoked  by  the  loss  of  his  favourite,  the 
gentleman  passionately  exclaimed  that  he  wished  the  buck's  horns  were 
stuck  in  the  belly  of  whoever  advised  the  king  to  kill  it.  In  our  settled 
and  reasonable  times  it  really  is  no  easy  matter  to  understand  how — even 
had  the  speech  related,  as  it  did  not,  to  the  king  himself — such  a  speech 
could  by  the  utmost  torturing  of  language  be  called  treason.  But  so  jfc 
was.  Burdett  had  the  misfortune  to  be  on  terms  of  familiar  friendship 
with  the  duke  of  Clarence  :  and  he  was  tried,  condemned,  and  beheaded 
at  Tyburn  for  no  alledged  offence  beyond  these  few  idle  and  intemperate 
words.  That  Clarence  might  have  no  shadow  of  doubt  that  he  was  him- 
self aimed  at  in  the  persons  of  his  friends,  this  infamous  murder  was  fol- 
lowed  by  that  of  another  friend  of  the  duke,  a  clergyman  named  Stacey. 
He  was  a  learned  man,  and  far  more  proficient  than  was  common  in 
that  half  barbarous  age  in  astronomy  and  mathematical  studies  in  gen- 
eral. The  rabble  got  a  notion  that  such  learning  must  needs  imply  sor- 
cery ;  the  popular  rumour  was  adopted  by  Clarence's  enemies,  and  tlie 
unfortunate  Stacey  was  tried,  tortured,  and  executed,  some  of  the  most 
eminent  peers  not  scrupling  to  sanction  these  atrocious  proceedings  by 
their  presence.  As  the  enemies  of  Clarence  had  anticipated,  the  perse- 
cution of  his  friends  aroused  him  to  an  imprudent  though  generous  indiir. 
nation.  Instead  of  endeavouring  to  secure  himself  by  a  close  reserve,  he 
loudly  and  boldly  inveighed  against  the  injustice  of  which  his  friends  bad 
been  the  victims,  and  bore  testimony  to  their  innocence  and  honour. 
This  was  precisely  what  the  enemies  of  the  duke  desired;  tlie  king  was 
insidiously  urged  to  deem  the  complaints  of  Clarence  insulting  and  in- 
jurious to  him,  as  implying  his  participation  in  the  alledged  injustice  done 
to  the  duke's  friends. 

A.  D.  1478. — The  unfortunate  duke  was  now  fairly  in  the  toils  which 
had  been  set  for  him  by  his  enemies.  He  was  committed  to  the  Tower, 
and  a  parliament  was  specially  summoned  to  try  him  for  treason.  The 
treasons  alledged  against  him,  even  had  they  been  proved  by  the 
most  trustworthy  evidence,  were  less  treasons  than  mere  petulant 
speeches.  Not  a  single  overt  act  was  even  alledged,  far  less  proved 
against  him.  But  the  king  in  person  prosecuted  him,  and  the  slavish 
parliament  shamelessly  pronounced  him  guilty;  the  commons  adding  to 
their  vileness  by  both  petitioning  for  the  duke's  execution  and  passing  a 
bill  of  attainder'against  him.  The  dreadfully  severe  temper  of  Edward 
required  no  such  vile  prompting.  There  was  little  danger  of  his  showing 
mercy  even  to  a  brother  whom  he  had  once  fairly  learned  to  hate !    The 


THE  TREA3UR1  OF  HISTORY. 


405 


HOIe  favour  that  he  would  grant  the  unhappy  duke  was  that  of  being  allow- 
ed to  choose  the  mode  of  his  death;  and  he  made  choice  of  the  strange 
and  unheard-of  one  of  heing  drowned  in  a  butt  of  Mahnsey  wine,  which 
whimsically  tragic  death  was  accordingly  inflicted  upon  him  in  the  Tower 
of  London. 

A.  D.  148-2. — Louis  XL  of  France  having  broken  his  agreement  lo  marry 
the  dauphin  to  the  daughter  of  Kdward,  this  king  contemplated  the  inva- 
sion of  France  for  the  purpose  of  avenging  the  affront.  But  while  he  was 
busily  engaged  with  the  necessary  preparations  he  was  suddenly  seized 
with  a  mortal  sickness,  of  which  he  expired  in  the  twenty-third  year  of 
his  reign  and  the  forty-second  of  his  age. 

Though  undoubtedly  possessed  of  both  abilities  and  courage,  Edward 
was  disgracefully  sensual  and  hatefully  cruel.  His  vigour  and  courage 
might  earn  him  admiration  in  times  of  difficulty,  but  his  love  of  effeminate 
pleasures  must  always  preclude  him  from  receiving  the  approbation  of  the 
wise,  as  his  unsparing  cruelty  must  always  insure  him  the  abhorrence  of 
the  good. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


THE    REIGN    OF    EDWARD    T. 


A.  D.  1483. — From  the  time  of  the  marriage  of  Edward  IV.  with  the  lady 
Elizabeth  Gray  the  court  had  been  divided  into  two  fierce  factions,  which 
were  none  the  less  dangerous  now  because  during  the  life  of  Edward  the 
stern  character  of  that  king  had  compelled  the  concealment  of  their  enmi- 
ties from  him.  The  queen  herself,  with  her  brother  the  earl  of  Rivers  and 
her  sou  the  marquis  of  Dorset,  were  at  the  head  of  the  one  faction,  while 
the  other  included  nearly  the  whole  of  the  ancient  and  powerful  nobiUty 
oftlie  kingdum,  who  naturally  were  indignant  at  the  sudden  rise  and  ex- 
ceeding ambition  of  the  queen's  family.  The  duke  of  Buckingham,  though 
he  had  married  the  queen's  sister,  was  at  the  head  of  the  party  opposed 
to  her  family  iniiuence,  and  he  was  zealously  and  strongly  supported  by 
the  lords  Hastings,  Stanley,  and  Howard. 

When  Edward  IV.  felt  that  his  end  was  approaching  he  sent  for  these 
noblemen  and  entreated  them  to  support  the  authority  of  his  youthful  son; 
but  no  sooiior  was  Edward  dead  than  the  leaders  of  both  factions  en- 
deavoured to  secure  the  chief  interest  with  the  heartless  and  ambitious 
duke  of  Gloster,  whom  Edward  IV.  most  fatally  had  named  regent  during 
the  minority  of  Edward  the  Fifth. 

Though  Gloster  was  entrusted  with  the  regency  of  the  kingdom,  the 
care  of  the  young  prince  was  confided  to  his  uncle  the  earl  of  Rivers,  a 
nobleman  remarkable  in  that  rude  age  for  his  literary  taste  and  talents. 
The  queen,  who  was  very  anxious  to  preserve  over  her  son  the  same 
great  iiiHiience  she  had  exerted  over  his  father,  advised  Rivers  to  levy  troops 
to  escort  the  king  to  London  to  be  crowned,  and  to  protect  him  from  any 
undue  coercion  on  the  part  of  the  enemies  of  his  family.  To  this  step, 
however.  Lord  Hastings  and  his  friends  made  the  strongest  and  most 
open  opposition ;  Hastings  even  going  so  far  as  to  declare  that  if  such  a 
force  were  levied  he  should  think  it  high  time  to  depart  for  his  govern- 
ment of  Calais,  and  his  friends  adding  that  the  levying  such  a  force  would 
be  the  actual  recommencement  of  a  civil  war.  Gloster,  who  had  deeper 
motives  than  any  of  the  other  of  the  parties  concerned,  affected  to  think 
such  force  needless  at  least,  and  his  artful  professions  of  determination 
to  nflord  the  young  king  all  needful  protection  so  completely  deceived  the 
queen,  that  she  alteied  her  opinion  and  requested  her  brother  to  accom- 
pany his  nephew  to  London  with  only  such  equipage  as  was  befitting 
his  high  rank. 


106 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


When  the  young  king  was  understood  to  be  on  his  road,  Gloster  oet  ou/ 
with  a  numerous  retinue,  under  pretence  of  desiring  to  escort  him  hon- 
ourably to  London,  and  was  joined  at  Northampton  by  Lord  Hastings, 
who  also  had  a  numerous  retinue.  Rivers,  fancying  that  his  own  retinue 
added  to  the  numerous  company  already  assembled  at  Northampton  would 
cause  a  want  of  accommoflation,  sent  Kdward  to  Stony  Slratford,  and 
went  hinrself  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  regent  Gloster  at  Northampton. 
Rivers  was  cordially  received  by  the  duke  of  Gloster,  with  whom  and 
Buckingham  he  spent  the  whole  evening.  Not  a  word  passed  whence  he 
could  inferenmity  or  danger,  yet  on  the  following  morning  as  he  was  enter- 
ing Stony  Stratford  to  join  his  royal  ward,  he  was  arrested  by  order  of 
the  duke  of  Gloster.  Sir  Richard  Gray,  a  son  of  the  queen  by  her  first 
marriage,  and  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan,  were  at  the  same  time  arrested,  and 
all  three  were  immediately  sent  under  a  strong  escort  to  Pontefract  casile. 

Having  thus  deprived  the  young  king  of  his  wisest  and  most  zealous 
protector,  Gloster  waited  upon  him  with  every  outward  show  of  kindness 
and  respect,  but  could  not  with  all  his  art  quiet  the  regrets  and  fears 
excited  in  the  prince's  mind  by  the  sudden  and  ominous  arrest  of  his  kind 
and  good  relative.  The  queen  was  still  more  alarmed.  In  the  arrest  of 
her  brother  she  saw  but  the  first  step  made  towards  the  ruin  of  herself 
and  her  whole  family;  and  she  immediately  retired  to  the  sanctuary  ot 
Westminster,  together  with  the  young  duke  of  York  and  the  five  prin- 
cesses, trusting  that  Gloster  would  scarcely  dare  to  violate  the  sanctuary 
which  had  proved  her  efficient  defence  against  all  the  fury  of  the  Lan- 
castrian faction  during  the  worst  times  of  her  husband's  misfortunes.  Her 
confidence  in  the  shelter  she  had  chosen  was  naturally  increased  by  the 
consideration,  that  whereas  formerly  even  a  family  opposed  to  hers  by 
the  most  deadly  and  innnitigable  hostility  was  not  tempted  to  violate  the 
sanctuary,  she  had  now  to  dread  only  her  own  brother-in-law,  while  hei 
son,  fast  approaching  the  years  which  would  enable  him  to  terminate  his 
uncle's  protectorate,  was  the  king. 

But  in  reasoning  thus  the  queen  wholly  overlooked  the  deep  and  dan- 
gerous nature  of  her  brother-in-law,  whose  dark  mind  was  daring  enough 
for  the  most  desperate  deeds,  and  subtle  enough  to  suggest  excuses  fit  to 
impose  even  upon  the  shrewdest  and  most  cautious.  Gloster  saw  that 
the  continuance  of  his  nephew  in  sanctuary  would  oppose  an  insurmount- 
able obstacle  to  his  abominable  designs ;  and  he  at  once  devoted  his 
powers  of  subtlety  to  the  task  of  getting  the  young  prince  from  that  se- 
cure shelter  without  allowing  the  true  motive  to  appear.  Making  full  al- 
lowance  for  the  power  of  the  church,  he  represented  to  the  archbishops 
of  Canterbury  and  York,  that  the  queen  in  some  sort  insulted  the  church 
by  abusing,  to  the  protection  of  herself  and  children  against  the  dangers 
which  existed  only  in  her  imagination,  a  privilege  which  was  intended 
only  for  persons  of  mature  years  having  reason  to  fear  grievous  injury  on 
account  of  either  crime  or  debt.  Now,  he  argued,  could  a  mere  child 
like  the  brother  of  their  young  king  be  in  anywise  obnoxious  to  the 
king,  of  dangers  for  which  alone  the  right  of  sanctuary  was  instituted? 
Was  not  the  church  as  well  as  the  government  concerned  In  putting  a 
stop,  even  by  force  if  necessary,  to  a  course  of  conduct  on  the  part  of 
the  queen  which  was  calculated  to  possess  mankind  with  the  most  horri- 
ble suspicions  of  those  persons  who  were  the  most  concerned  in  the  king's 
happiness  and  safety  t  The  prelates,  ignorant  of  the  dark  designs  of 
Gloster,  and  even  of  his  real  nature,  which  hitherto  he  had  carefully  and 
most  dexterously  disguised,  could  scarcely  fail  to  agree  with  him  as  to 
the  folly  of  the  queen's  conduct,  and  its  entire  needlessness  for  securing 
her  son's  safety.  But,  careful  of  the  privileges  of  the  church,  they  would 
not  hear  of  the  sanctuary  being  forcibly  assailed,  but  readily  agreed  to 


THE  TREA8TJRV  OP  HISTORY. 


iW 


use  tlieir  personal  influence  with  the  queen  to  induce  her  voluntarily  to 
abandon  alike  her  retreat  and  her  fears. 

The  prelates  had  much  difficulty  in  inducing  the  queen  to  allow  the 
young  duke  of  York  to  leave  her  and  tho  protection  of  the  sanctuary. 
His  continuance  there  she  again  and  again  alhrmed  to  be  important,  not 
only  to  his  own  safety,  but  to  that  of  the  young  king,  against  whose  life 
it  would  appear  to  be  both  useless  and  unsafe  to  strike  while  his  brother 
and  successor  remained  in  safety.  In  reply  to  this,  the  prelates,  sin- 
cerely though  most  mistakenly,  assured  her  that  she  did  but  deceive  her- 
self in  her  fears  for  either  of  the  royal  brothers.  But  perliaps  their 
strongest  argument  was  their  frank  deciaralioii  tiiat  the  seclusion  of  the 
young  prince  was  so  offensive  both  to  the  duke  of  York  and  the  council, 
that  it  was  more  than  possible  that  even  force  might  be  resorted  to  should 
the  queen  refuse  to  yield  the  point.  Dreading  lest  further  opposition 
should  but  accelerate  the  evil  that  she  wished  to  avert,  the  unhappy  queen 
at  lengih,  with  abundance  of  tears  and  with  lamentations  which  were  but 
too  prophetic,  delivered  the  young  prince  up,  bidding  him,  as  she  did  so, 
farewell  for  ever. 

Possessed  of  the  protectorate,  which  the  council,  on  account  of  his 
near  relation  to  the  throne,  had  at  once  conferred  upon  him  without  wait- 
ing for  the  consent  of  parliament,  and  now  poH-;essed  of  the  persons  of 
the  young  princes,  Gloster  seems  to  have  deemed  all  obstacles  removed 
to  his  bloody  and  treacherous  purpose,  though  to  any  less  unc  improin- 
ising  and  daring  schemer  there  might  have  seemed  to  be  a  formidable  one 
in  the  existence  of  numerous  other  children  of  Edward,  and  two  of  the 
duke  of  Clarence. 

The  first  step  of  Gloster  in  his  infamous  course  was  to  cause  Sir  Ri- 
chard Ratcliffe,  a  tool  well  worthy  of  so  heartless  and  unsparing  an  em- 
ployer,  to  put  to  death  the  earl  of  Rivers  and  the  other  prisoners  whom 
he  had  sent  to  Pontefract  castle,  as  before  named  ;  and  to  this  measure 
the  tyrant  had  the  art  to  obtain  the  sanction  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham 
and  Lord  Hastings,  whom  subsequently  he  most  fittingly  repaid  for  their 
participation  in  this  monstrous  guilt. 

Gloster  now  quite  literally  imitated  the  great  enemy  of  mankind — he 
made  this  first  crime  of  Buckingham's,  this  participation  in  one  murder 
the  cause  and  the  justification  of  farther  crime.  He  pointed  out  to  Buck- 
ingham that  the  death — however  justifiably  inflicted,  as  he  affected  to  con- 
sider it — at  their  suggestion  and  command,  of  the  queen's  brother  and  son, 
was  an  offence  which  a  woman  of  her  temper  would  by  no  means  for- 
get ;  and  that  however  impotent  she  might  be  during  the  minority  of  her 
son,  the  years  would  soon  pass  by  which  would  bring  his  majority  ;  she 
would  then  have  both  access  to  and  influence  over  him;  and  would  not 
that  influence  be  most  surely  used  to  their  destruction  1  Would  it  not  be 
safer  for  Buckingham,  aye,  and  better  for  all  the  real  and  antique  nobility 
of  the  kingdom,  that  the  offspring  of  the  comparatively  plebeian  Elizabeth 
Gray  should  be  excluded  from  the  throne,  and  that  the  sceptre  should 
pass  into  the  hands  of  Gloster  himself— he,  who  was  so  indissolubly  the 
friend  of  Buckingham,  and  so  well  affected  to  the  true  nobility  of  the 
kingdom]  Safety  from  the  consequences  of  a  crime  already  committed 
and  irrevocable,  with  great  and  glowing  prospect  of  rich  benefits  to  arise 
from  being  the  personal  friend,  the  very  right  hand  of  the  king,  albeit  a 
'«.  ;"ping  king,  were  arguments  precisely  adapted  to  the  comprehension 
ai.^i  favour  of  Buckingham,  who  with  but  small  hesitation  agreed  to  lend 
his  aid  and  sanction  to  the  measures  necessary  to  convert  the  duke  of 
Gloster  into  King  Richard  III. 

Having  thus  secured  Buckingham,  Gloster  now  turned  his  attention  to 
Lord  Hastings,  whose  influence  was  so  extensive  as  to  be  of  vast  impor 
aiice.    Through  the  medium  of  Catesby,  a  lawyer  much  employed  b 


I!)3 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


G  08t°r  wnen  chicane  seemed  the  preferable  weapon  to  actual  violence 
G  ost'T  sounded  Hastings;  but  that  nobleman,  weak  and  wicked  as  ht 
had  piovod  himself,  was  (ar  too  sincerely  attached  to  the  children  of  hi» 
late  sovereign  and  friend  to  consent  to  their  injury.  He  not  only  refused 
to  aid  ;n  the  transfer  of  the  crown  from  them,  but  so  refused  as  to  leave 
but  little  room  for  doubt  that  he  would  be  active  in  his  opposition.  The 
mere  suspicion  was  sufficient  to  produce  his  ruin,  which  Glosterset  about 
instantly  and  almost  without  the  trouble  of  disguise. 

A  council  was  summoned  to  meet  Gloster  at  the  Tower,  and  Hastings 
attended  with  as  little  fear  or  suspicion  as  any  other  member.  Glr)ster, 
whose  mood  seems  ever  to  have  been  the  most  dangerous  when  his  bear. 
ing  was  the  most  jocund,  chatted  familiarly  with  the  members  of  the 
council  as  they  assembled.  Not  a  frown  darkened  his  terrible  brow,  not 
a  word  fdl  from  his  lips  that  could  excite  doubt  or  fear;  who  could  have 
supposed  that  he  was  about  to  commit  a  foul  murder  who  was  sufficiently 
at  case  to  compliment  Bishop  Morton  upon  the  size  and  earliness  of  the 
strawberries  in  his  garden  at  Holborn,  and  to  beg  that  a  dish  of  them 
might  be  sent  to  him  1  Yet  it  was  in  the  midst  of  such  light  talk  that  he 
left  the  council-board  to  ascertain  that  all  his  villainous  arrangements 
were  exactly  made.  This  done,  he  entered  the  room  again  with  a  dis 
turbed  and  angry  countenance,  and  startled  all  present  by  sternly  and  ab 
ruptly  demanding  what  punishment  was  deserved  by  those  who  should 
dare  to  plot  against  the  life  of  the  uncle  of  the  king  and  the  appointed 
protector  of  the  realm.  Hastings,  really  attached  to  Gloster,  though  still 
more  so  to  the  royal  children,  warmly  replied  that  whoever  should  do  so 
would  merit  the  punishment  of  traitors. 

"  Traitors,  aye  traitors !"  said  the  duke,  "  and  those  traitors  are  the 
sorceress,  my  brother's  widow,  and  his  mistress,  Jane  Shore,  and  others 
who  are  associated  with  them."  And  then  laying  bare  his  arm,  which  all 
present  knew  to  have  been  shriveled  and  deformed  from  his  earliest 
years,  he  continued,  "  See  to  what  a  condition  they  have  reduced  me  by 
their  abominable  withcraft  and  incantations!" 

The  mention  of  .Tane  Shore  excited  the  first  suspicion  or  fear  in  the 
mind  of  Hastings,  who,  subsequent  to  the  death  of  the  late  king,  had  been 
intimate  with  the  beautiful  though  guilty  woman  of  that  name. 

"  If,"  said  Hastings,  doubtfully, "  they  have  done  this,  my  lord,  they  de- 
serve the  severest  punishment." 

"If!"  shouted  Gloster,  "and  do  you  prate  to  me  of  your  i/s  and  ands? 
You  are  the  chief  abettor  of  the  sorceress  Shore ;  you  are  a  traitor,  and 
by  St.  Paul  I  swear  that  I  will  not  dine  until  your  head  shall  be  brought 
to  me." 

Thus  speaking,  he  struck  the  table  with  his  hand,  and  in  an  instant  the 
room  was  filled  with  armed  men  who  had  already  received  his  orders 
how  to  act;  Hastings  was  dragged  from  the  room  and  beheaded  on  a  log 
of  wood  which  chanced  to  be  lying  in  the  court-yard  of  the  Tower.    In 
two  hours  after  this  savage  murder,  a  proclamation  was  made  to  the  cit- 
izens of  London,  apologising  for  the  sudden  execution  of  Hastings  on  the 
score  of  the  equally  sudden  discovery  of  numerous  offences  which  the 
proclamation  charged  upon  him.     Though  Gloster  had  but  little  reason  to 
fear  any  actual  outbreak  in  the  city,  the  lord  Hastings  was  very  popular 
there;  and  not  a  few  of  the  citizens,  even  inchiding  those  who  were  tho 
most  favourable  to  Gloster,  seemed  to  agree  with  a  merchant  who,  notic 
ing  the  elaborate  composition  of  the  fairly  written  proclamation,  and  con 
trasting  it  with  the  shortness  of  the  time  which  had  elapsed  from  Hastings 
murder,  shrewdly  remarked  that  "tlie  proclamation  might  safely  be  relied 
on,  for  it  was  quite  plain  that  it  had  been  drawn  by  the  spirit  of  prophecy. 

Though  the  extreme  violence  of  Gloster  was  for  the  present  confined  to 
Hastings,  as  if  in  retributive  justice  upon  his  crime  towards  the  victinifi  of 


THE  TREASURY  OF  H18T0RT. 


409 


0 


Poiitcfract,  the  other  councillors  were  by  no  means  allowed  to  cs(!apc  sc^ot 
free.  Lord  Stanley  was  actually  wounded  by  tbe  poll-axe  of  one  of  the 
soldiers  summoned  by  the  treacherous  protector,  and  only,  pt'rhaps,  es- 
caped being  murdered  in  the  very  presence  of  that  tyrant  by  the  more 
dexterous  than  dignified  expedient  of  fallnig  under  the  table,  and  renviia- 
ing  there  till  the  confusion  attendant  upon  tlie  arret  of  Hastings  hud  sul)- 
sided.  He  was  then,  together  with  the  archbisliop  of  York,  the  bishop  of 
Ely,  and  some  other  councillors  whom  (ilosier  hated  for  their  sincere  at- 
tachment to  the  family  of  the  late  kiny,  conveyed  from  the  council  room 
of  the  Tower  to  its  too  ominous  dungeons.  ' 

A  new  and  a  meaner  victim  was  now  essential  to  the  dark  and  unspar- 
ing purposes  of  the  protector.  His  connection  of  the  murdered  Hastings 
with  the  alledged  sorceries  of  the  late  king's  mistress,  Jane  Shore,  render- 
ed it  necessary  that  he  should  ap^jear  to  be  fully  convinced  that  she  wh8 
guilty  of  the  crimes  which  he  had  laid  to  her  charge.  The  charge  of 
witchcraft,  that  upon  which  he  laid  the  most  stress,  was  so  wholly  unsup- 
ported by  evidence,  that  even  the  ignorance  of  the  age  and  the  power  of 
Gloster  could  not  get  her  convicted  upon  it ;  but  as  it  was  notorious  that 
she,  a  married  woman,  had  lived  in  a  doubly  adulterous  intercourse  with 
the  late  king,  the  spiritual  court  was  easily  iiiilucijd  to  sentence  her  to  do 
penance  publicly,  and  attiredi  n  a  white  sheet,  at  St.  Paul's.  Her  subse- 
quent fate  was  just  what  might  be  expected  from  her  former  life.  Though 
in  her  guilty  prosperity  she  showed  many  signs  of  a  humane  and  kindly 
temper,  liberally  succouring  the  distressed  and  disinterestedly  using  her 
influence  with  the  king  for  the  benefit  of  deserving  but  friendly  court  suit- 
ors, she  passed  unheeded  and  unaided  from  her  public  degradation  to  a 
privacy  of  miserable  indigence. 

Gloster's  impunity  thus  far  very  naturally  increased  both  his  propen- 
sion  to  crime  and  his  audacity  in  its  commission,  and  he  now  no  longer 
made  a  secret  of  his  desire  to  exclude  the  present  king  and  his  brother 
from  the  throne.  Reckless  of  woman's  fame  as  of  man's  life,  Gloster 
took  advantage  of  the  known  luxuriousness  of  the  late  king's  life  to  affirm, 
that  previous  to  that  prince  marrying  the  lady  Elizabeth  Gray  he  had 
been  married  to  the  lady  Eleanor  Talbot,  the  daughter  of  the  earl  of 
Shresvsbury ;  that  this  marriage,  though  secret,  was  legal  and  binding, 
and  had  been  solemnized  by  Millington,  bishop  of  Bath;  and  that,  con- 
sequently and  necessarily,  Edward's  children  by  the  lady  Elizabeth  Gray 
were  illegitimate.  The  children  of  Edward  being  thus  pronounced  ille- 
gitimate, Gloster,  by  his  partisans,  maintained  that  the  attainder  of  the 
duke  of  Clarence  necessarily  dispossessed  his  children  of  all  right.  But 
as  assertion  in  the  former  case  could  hardly  pass  for  proof,  and  as  attaint 
had  never  been  ruled  to  exclude  from  the  crown  as  from  mere  private  suc- 
cession, Gloster  soared  to  a  higher  and  more  damning  pitch  of  infamy  ; 
hitherto  he  had  impugned  the  chastity  of  his  sister-in-law— now  he  passed 
beyond  all  the  ordinary  villany  of  the  world  and  imputed  frequent  and 
familiar  harlotry  to  his  own  mother!  To  make  his  right  to  the  throne 
wholly  independent  either  of  the  alledged  secret  marriage  of  the  late  king 
to  the  lady  Eleanor,  or  of  the  effect  upon  Clarence's  children  of  the  at- 
tainder of  their  father,  Gloster  now  taught  his  nnmerous  and  zealous  toola 
to  maintain  that  his  mother,  the  duchess  of  York,  who  was  still  alive,  had 
been  repeatedly  false  to  her  marriage  vows,  that  both  Edward  IV.  and  the 
duke  of  (/larence  had  been  illegitimate  and  the  sons  of  different  fathers, 
and  that  the  duke  of  Gloster  was  alone  the  legitimate  son  of  the  duke  and 
duchess  of  York. 

As  if  this  horrible  charge  of  a  son  against  his  mother,  who  had  lived 
and  was  still  living  in  the  highest  credit  of  the  most  irreproachable  virtue, 
were  not  sutficiently  revolting  to  all  good  and  manly  feelings,  the  subject 
was  first  brought  forward  «*  church ;  on  the  occasion  of  Dr.  Shau>  preaching 


410 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HI3T0RY. 


a  sermon  before  the  protector.  The  preaolipr,  well  worthy  of  the  pnlron, 
took  the  significant  text,  "  Bastard  slips  shall  not  thrive ;"  upon  which  the 
preacher  enlarged  with  groat  zeal  in  the  endeavour  to  throw  the  stain  of 
mistardy  upon  Edward  IV.  and  his  brother  Clarence.  Though  Giostcr 
was  far  loo  free  from  shamefacedncss,  as  well  as  from  everything  in  the 
shape  of  "compunctious  visiting,"  to  have  any  objection  to  being  present 
during  the  delivery  of  the  whole  of  the  tirade  against  his  own  mother's 
chastity,  yet  from  a  politic  motive  it  was  arranged  that  he  should  no! 
enter  the  church  until  the  preacher  should  finish  pronouncing  the  follow 
ing  passage.  Contrasting  the  duke  of  Gloster  with  the  alledged  iilegitj 
mate  sons  of  his  mother,  the  preacher  exclaimed,  "  Behold  this  excellent 
prince,  the  express  image  of  his  noble  father,  the  genuine  descendant  ol 
the  house  of  York ;  bearing,  no  less  in  the  virtues  of  his  mind  than  in  the 
features  of  his  countenance  the  character  of  the  gallant  Richard,  once  your 
hero  and  favourite.  He  alone  is  entitled  to  your  allegiance;  he  must  de- 
liver you  from  the  dominion  of  all  intruders;  be  aloie  can  restore  the  lost 
glory  and  honour  of  the  nation." 

It  was  intended  that  this  glowing  panegyric  on  the  duke  of  Gloster 
should  be  pronounced  at  the  very  moment  of  the  object  of  it  making  his 
appearance  in  the  church,  in  the  hope  that,  taken  by  surprise  and  urged 
into  enthusiastic  feeling,  the  congregation  might  be  induced  to  hail  the 
wily  and  heartless  tyrant  with  the  cry  of  "  God  save  King  Richard."  But 
■)y  one  of  those  mistakes  which  very  often  occur  to  throw  ridicule  upon 
vhe  deepest  schemes,  the  duke  did  not  make  his  appearance  until  the 
whole  of  this  precious  passage  had  already  been  delivered.  Rather  than 
his  eloquence  and  the  chance  of  its  success  should  be  lost  by  this  accident, 
the  preacher  actually  repeated  it;  but  the  audience,  either  from  the  repe- 
tition seeming  ridiculous,  or  its  impressing  them  the  more  strongly  with 
the  falsehood  and  villany  of  the  charges  insinuated  against  the  duchess  of 
York,  witnessed  the  performance  of  the  disgusting  farce  with  an  indiffer- 
ence wliich  probably  was  more  severely  felt  by  Gloster  than  any  other 
punishment  would  have  been. 

The  preaching  of  Dr.  Shaw  having  thus  failed  to  effect  the  purpose  0/ 
Gloster,  recourse  was  now  had  to  the  management  of  Dr.  Shaw's  brother, 
who  at  this  time  was  mayor. of  London.  He  called  a  meeting  of  the  citi- 
zens, to  whom  he  introduced  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  who  exerted  to  the 
utmost  his  powers  of  eloquence  upon  the  subject  of  Gloster's  great  and 
numerous  virtues,  and  upon  the  superiority  of  his  unquestionable  claim 
to  the  throne.  Though  Buckingham  was  as  earnest  as  he  was  eloquent, 
he  could  by  no  means  communicate  his  own  feelings  to  the  bosoms  of  the 
good  citizens,  who,  with  most  umnoved  countenances  and  lack  lustre 
eyes  heard  him  in  all  gravity,  and  heard  the  very  conclusion  of  his  address 
with  all  silence.  At  once  aimoyed  by  this  repulsive  silence,  and  as  much 
abashed  by  it  as  so  experienced  a  courtier  well  could  be  by  anything,  the 
duke  angrily  demanded  of  the  mayor  what  the  silence  of  the  citizens 
might  mean.  The  mayor  replied,  that  probably  the  citizens  had  not  fully 
understood  the  duke,  who  then  repeated  the  former  speec  1,  but  still  failed 
to  elicit  any  reply  from  his  auditors.  The  mayor,  in  his  uesire  to  gratify 
the  duke,  pretended  that  the  citizens,  who  were  always  accustomed  to  be 
harangued  by  their  own  recorder,  could  only  comprehend  the  duke's  speech 
if  delivered  to  them  through  the  medium  of  that  officer. 

The  recorder,  Fitzwilliam,  was  accordingly  desired  to  repeat  the  duke's 
speech,  which,  being  no  friend  to  Gloster's  projects,  he  took  care  to  do  in 
such  wise  that  the  people  could  by  no  means  take  the  words,  though  de- 
livered by  him,  to  leave  any  echo  in  his  wishes  ;  and  he,  like  the  duke, 
was  heard  to  the  very  last  word  without  any  one  giving  him  a  word  of 
reply. 

The  duke  now  became  too  much  enraged  to  refrain  from  speaking  out, 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Ill 


aP'l  he  said,  "  This  is  wonderful  obstinacy ;  express  your  meaning,  my 
Irieii'Js,  in  one  way  or  the  other.  When  we  apply  to  you  on  this  occa- 
sion it  is  merely  from  the  regard  which  we  bear  to  you.  The  lords  and 
commons  have  sufficient  autiiority  without  your  consent  to  appoint  a  king; 
but  1  require  you  here  to  declare,  in  plain  terms,  whether  or  not  you  will 
have  the  duke  of  Gloster  for  your  sovereign?"  The  earnestness  and 
anger  of  the  duke,  and  the  example  set  by  some  of  his  and  t!ie  duke  of 
Gloster's  servants,  caused  this  address,  more  fortunate  tlian  the  former 
ones,  to  be  received  with  a  cry  of  God  save  King  Richard!  Tlie  cry  was 
feeble,  and  raised  by  people  few  in  numbers  and  of  the  humblest  rank ; 
but  it  served  the  purpose  of  Buckingham,  who  now,  as  had  been  con- 
certed, hurried  off  to  Baynard's  caslle  to  inform  Gloster  that  the  voice  of 
"  the  people"  called  him  to  the  throne  ! 

lJu(!kingham  was  attended  to  Baynard's  castle  by  the  mayor  and  a  con- 
siderable number  of  citizens  ;  and  though  the  wily  protector  was  most 
anxiously  expecting  this  visit,  he  affected  to  be  surprised  ar.d  even  alarm- 
ed at  so  many  persons  in  company  demanding  to  speak  to  him  ;  which 
pretended  surprise  and  alarm  of  the  protector,  Buckingham  took  care  to 
point  out  to  the  especial  notice  of  the  thick-witted  citizens.  When  the 
protector  at  length  suffered  himself  to  be  persuaded  to  speak  to  the  duke 
of  Buckingham  and  the  citizens,  he  affected  astonishment  on  hearing  that 
he  was  desired  to  be  king,  and  roundly  declared  his  own  intention  of  re- 
maining loyal  to  Edward  V.,  a  course  of  conduct  which  he  also  recom 
mended  to  Buckingham  and  his  other  auditors.  Buckingham  now  affected 
to  take  a  higher  tone  with  the  protector.  That  prince,  argued  Bucking- 
ham, could  undoubtedly  refuse  to  accept  the  crown,  but  he  could  not 
compel  the  people  to  endure  their  present  sovereign.  A  new  one  they 
would  have,  and  if  the  duke  of  Gloster  would  not  comply  with  their  lov- 
ing wishes  on  his  behalf,  it  would  only  behove  them  to  offer  the  crown 
elsewhere.  Having  now  sufficiently  kept  up  the  disgusting  farce  of  re- 
fusing that  crown  for  the  sake  of  which  he  had  already  waded  through  so 
much  innocent  blood,  and  was  so  perfectly  prepared  and  determined  to 
commit  even  more  startling  crimes  still,  Gloster  now  gave  a  seemingly 
reluctant  consent  to  accept  it ;  and  without  waiting  for  further  repetition 
of  this  offer  from  "the  people,"  he  thenceforth  threw  aside  even  the  af- 
fectation of  acting  on  behalf  of  any  other  sovereign  than  his  own  will 
and  pleasure. 

The  farcical  portion  of  the  usurpation,  however,  was  but  too  soon  after- 
ward followed  by  a  most  tragical  completion  of  Richard's  vile  crime. 
Tortured  by  the  true  bane  of  tyrants,  suspicion  and  fear,  Richard  felt  that 
so  long  as  his  young  nephews  survived,  his  usurped  crown  would  ever 
be  insecure,  as  an  opponent  would  always  be  at  hand  to  be  set  up  against 
him  by  aiy  noble  to  whom  he  might  chance  to  give  offence.  This  con- 
sideration was  quite  enough  to  insure  the  death  of  the  unfortunate  young 
princes,  and  Richard  sent  orders  for  their  murder  to  the  constable  of  the 
Tower,  Sir  Robert  Brackenbury.  But  this  gentleman  was  a  man  of 
honour,  and  he  with  a  man  of  honour's  spirit  and  feeling  refused  to  have 
aught  to  do  with  a  design  so  atrocious.  The  tyrant  was,  however,  not  to 
be  baffled  by  the  refusal  of  one  good  man  to  bend  to  his  infamous  designs, 
and  having  found  a  more  compliant  tool  in  Uie  person  of  Sir  James  Tyrrel, 
it  was  ordered  that  for  one  night  Brackenbury  should  surrender  to  that 
person  the  keys  of  the  Tower.  On  that  fatal  night  three  wretches,  named 
Slater,  Dighton,  and  Forrest,  were  introduced  to  the  chamber  in  which  the 
two  young  princes  were  buried  in  sinless  and  peaceful  sleep.  In  that 
sleep  the  young  victims  were  smothered  by  the  three  assassins  just  named, 
Tyrrel  waiting  outside  the  door  while  the  horrid  deed  was  being  perpe- 
trated, and,  on  its  completion,  ordering  the  burial  of  the  bodies  at  the  tool 
of  Ihe  staircase  leading  to  the  chamber. 


•lit 


THB  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


It  may  not  be  quite  niineccssary  to  mention  here  that  douhtt.,  fron 
which  man's  ingenuity  allows  few  truths,  however  phiin,  wholly  to  eucftpe, 
have  been  thrown  upon  this  portion  of  Riehard's  guilt;  but  tiie  most  in- 
genious reasoiiiiifir  and  the  utmost  felicity  at  guessing  are  but  idle  when 
opposed  to  plain  Uci,  hs  in  the  present  <'ase;  something  more  is  requisite 
in  opposition  to  the  actual  confession  made  by  the  murderers  themseiveg 
ill  the  following  reign. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE    REIO.N    OF    RICHARD    III. 

A.  D.  1483. — Havino  not  only  grasped  the  crown,  but  also  put  to  death 
the  two  claimants  from  whom  he  had  the  most  reason  to  fear  future  an- 
noyance, Richard  now  turned  his  attention  to  securing  as  strong  a  body 
of  supporters  as  he  could,  by  the  distribution  of  favours.  And  so  anxious 
was  he  upon  this  point,  so  ready  to  forget  all  other  considerations  in  the 
present  usefulness  of  those  of  whose  services  he  stood  in  need,  that  he 
cast  his  shrewd  eye  upon  powerful  enemies  to  be  conciliated  as  well  as 
devoted  friends  to  be  rewarded  for  the  past  and  retained  for  the  future. 

Among  those  whom  Richard  the  most  carefully  sought  to  keep  firm  to 
his  interests  was  the  duke  of  Buckingham.  Descended  from  Thomas  o| 
Wood.itock,  duke  of  Gloster,  and  uncle  of  Richard  II.  this  nobleman  was 
allied  to  the  royal  family,  and  from  the  same  cause  he  had  a  claim  upon 
a  moiety  of  the  vast  property  of  Bohun,  earl  of  Hereford,  which  moiety 
had  long  been  held  by  the  crown  under  escheat.  Buckingham,  though 
his  wealth  and  honours  were  already  enormous,  deemed  that  the  services 
he  had  recently  rendered  to  Richard  gave  him  good  ground  to  claim  this 
property,  and  also  the  office  of  constable  of  England,  which  had  long  been 
hereditary  in  the  Hereford  family.  In  the  first  exultation  caused  by  his 
own  success,  so  much  of  which  was  owing  to  Buckingham,  Richard 
granted  all  that  nobleman  asked.  But  on  cooler  reflection  Richard  seems 
to  have  imagined  that  Buckingham  was  already  as  wealthy  and  powerful 
as  a  subject  could  be  consistently  with  the  safety  of  the  crown,  and  though 
he  virtually  made  a  formal  grant  of  the  Hereford  property,  he  took  care 
to  oppose  insuperable  difficulties  to  its  actual  fulfilment.  Buckingham 
was  far  too  shrewd  to  fail  to  perceive  the  real  cause  of  the  property  being 
withheld  from  him  ;  and  he  who  had  so  unscrupulously  exerted  himself 
to  set  up  the  usurper,  now  felt  fully  as  anxious  and  resolute  to  aid  in  pul- 
ling him  down.  The  flagrancy  of  Richard's  usurpation  was  such  as  to 
promise  every  facility  to  an  attempt  to  dethrone  him,  if  that  attempt  were 
but  headed  by  a  man  of  adequate  power  and  consequence.  In  truth,  the 
very  success  of  his  usurpation  was  scarcely  more  attributable  to  his  own 
daring  and  unprincipled  wickedness  than  to  the  absence  of  any  powerful 
opponent.  Even  the  lowest  and  meanest  citizens  of  London  had  rather 
been  coerced  into  a  passive  admission  of  his  right  to  the  crown  than  intj 
an  active  support  of  it ;  and  now  that  the  duke  of  Buckingham  was  cva- 
verted  into  an  enemy  of  the  usurper,  the  long  dormant  claims  of  the  Lan- 
castrians were  pressed  upon  his  attention,  and  not  unfavourably  looked 
upon  by  him.  Morton,  bishop  of  Ely,  whom  Richard  committed  to  the 
Tower  on  the  day  of  Lord  Hastings'  murder,  had  recently  been  committed 
to  the  less  rigorous  custody  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  and,  perceiving 
the  duke's  discontent,  turned  his  attention  to  a  fitting  rival  to  oppose  the 
tyrant,  in  the  person  of  Henry,  the  young  earl  of  Richmond.  Through  his 
mother  the  young  earl  was  heir  of  the  elder  branch  of  the  house  of  Som- 
erset ;  and  though  that  claim  to  the  crown  would  formerly  have  been  look- 
ed upon  as  very  slight,  the  failure  of  the  legitimate  branches  of  the  hnuiiO 


rse 


THB  TRKA8UIIY  OP  MWTOllY. 


413 


ot  LanraRtcr  nowgavo  itconsiilrriililc  importance  in  ihn  eypiof  tho  adhe- 
rents of  that  home.  Kvrn  l-Mwitrd  IV.  had  hcpu  hojimIous  of  Iho  nur!  of 
/lichmonii's  cluini  upon  tho  throne,  th.it  nTter  vainly  cndeavonrinif  to  y,t)t 
liini  into  hifl  power,  ho  had  agreed  to  pay  a  conaiderablo  yearly  aum  tothn 
(luko  of  Brittany  to  keep  the  dangerous  young  nohlo  at  hia  court,  nonrii- 
nally  as  a  guest,  hut  really  as  a  prisoner.  The  very  jealousy  thus  shown 
towards  the  younff  enri  naturally  increased  the  attention  and  favour  of  the 
I.ancastriana ;  and  it  now  occurred  to  the  bishop  Morton,  and,  from  his  rea- 
Honings  to  tho  duke  of  Buckingham,  tliat  Richard  might  be  dethroned  in 
favour  of  young  Henry.  But  as  the  long  deprcHsion  of  the  house  of  Lan- 
caster had  diminished  both  the  zeal  and  the  number  of  its  adherents,  Mor- 
ton, with  profound  policy  suggested  the  wisdom  of  strengthening  the  bonds 
of  Henry,  and  at  the  same  time  weakening  those  of  Richard,  by  tho  mar- 
riage of  the  former  to  King  Edward's  cldi-st  daughter,  the  princess  Eliz- 
abeth, and  thus  uniting  the  party  claims  of  both  families  against  the  mere 
personal  usurpation  of  Richard,  who  was  deeply  detested  by  the  nation 
for  his  cruelly,  and  would  consequently  meet  with  no  hearty  support 
should  ho  bo  openly  opposed  with  even  a  probability  of  success. 

Young  Henry's  mother,  the  countess  of  Richmond,  was  informed  by 
Morton  and  Buckingham  of  their  views  in  favour  of  her  son ;  and  the  hon- 
our intended  for  him  was  too  great  to  allow  of  any  hesitation  on  her  part. 
Dr.  Lewis,  a  physician  who  had,  professionally,  the  means  of  communi- 
cating with  the  queen  dowager,  who  still  found  shelter  in  the  sanctuary 
of  Westminster,  Knew  that  whatever  rnigh*  have  been  her  former  preju- 
dices against  the  Lancastrians,  they  instantly  yielded  to  the  hate  and  dis- 
gust with  which  she  thought  of  the  successful  usurper  who  had  murdered 
her  brother  and  three  sons.     She  not  only  gave  her  consent  to  the  pro- 

Ensed  marriage,  but  also  borrowed  a  sum  of  money  which  she  sent  to  aid 
[enry  in  raismg  troops,  and  she  at  the  same  time  required  him  to  swear 
to  marry  her  daughter  as  soon  as  he  could  safely  reach  England. 

Morton  and  Buckingham  having  thus  far  met  with  success,  began  to 
exerl  themselves  among  their  influential  friends  in  the  various  counties, 
to  prepare  them  for  a  general  and  simultaneous  rising  in  favour  of  the  earl 
of  Richmond  when  he  should  land ;  and  in  this  respect,  too,  their  efforts 
met  with  an  uncommon  success,  the  tyranny  of  Richard  becoming  every 
day  more  hateful  to  all  orders  of  his  trampled  subjects'. 

But  guilt  such  as  that  of  Richard  is  ever  suspicious,  even  where  there 
is  no  real  cause  for  suspicion;  and  the  sudden  activity  of  various  men  ol 
influence  could  neither  escape  the  sharpened  observation  of  the  tyrant, 
nor  seem  explicable  to  him  on  any  other  ground  than  that  of  treason 
against  him.  Well  knowing  that  Buckingham  was  greatly  addicted  to 
political  plotting,  Richard  with  many  friendly  expressions  invited  the  duke 
to  court,  where  for  some  time  he  had  been  a  stranger.  Whether  the  king 
really  so;  ght  a  reconciliation  with  the  duke  or  merely  wished  to  obtain 
possession  of  his  person  does  not  clearly  appear.  The  duke,  however, 
who  well  knew  with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  interpreted  the  king's  message 
in  the  latter  sense,  and  only  replied  to  it  by  unfurling  the  standard  of  re- 
volt in  Wales  at  the  moment  when  Itichard  was  levying  troops  in  the 
north. 

It  happened  most  unfortunately  for  Buckingham,  that  just  as  he  had 
marched  his  troops  to  the  Severn,  that  river  was  so  swollen  in- conse- 
quence of  rains  of  almost  unexampled  copiousness  and  duration,  as  to  be, 
quite  impassable.  This  unlooked-for  check  cast  a  damp  upon  the  spirits 
of  Buckingham's  followers,  who  were  still  farther  dispirited  by  great  dis- 
tress from  want  of  provisions.  Desertions  am<  ng  them  daily  became 
more  numerous,  and  Buckingham  at  length  finding  himself  wholly  aban- 
doned, disguised  himself  in  a  mean  habit  and  made  his  way  to  the  house 
of  an  old  servant  of  his  family*    Even  in  this  obscure  retreat,  however 


414 


TUB  TREA8UIIY  OF  HWTOHY. 


ho  wa«  discovered  iind  carried  an  a  prisoner  to  ihe  king,  who  wai  th*n 
posted  at  Salisluiry.  All  tho  foriin-r  s»rvice8  rciwlert'd  by  ihe  duke  wrrn 
for({ottcti  in  llm  fiu-t  of  Ins  nion*  rtctMit  iippraranco  in  urins  as  iht;  avowtid 
•n«'iny  of  ihc  knig,  and  he  wmh  nnnxdiaU-ly  sent  to  exeitiilion.  .Si'vtjral 
other  thoiii{li  h-ss  cniim  ril  prisoners  fell  into  the  hands  (»f  Rn-hard,  and 
were  hy  hnn  lransf(;rred  to  lh«!  executioner ;  and  one  of  these,  a  ^t'lMW. 
•man  named  Colhnghourne,  is  said  to  have  suffered  not  for  his  direct  and 
open  opposition  to  liurhard,  but  for  Hoinu  tniseruble  doggrel  in  which  he 
made  it  a  coinohiiiit  that 

"  Thn  ont,  tliii  rnt,  and  Lovnl  the  ilog, 
Hulo  all  Unulanil  under  thu  Iiok." 

Stupid  as  this  doggrel  proihietion  was,  its  stupidity  and  the  heinous  o|. 
fonee  of  playing  upon  tiie  names  of  Cateshy  and  KatciifTe,  upon  that  ol 
Lovel  and  upon  the  cognizanee  of  the  king,  seem  to  have  merited  a  some- 
what  less  severe  punishment  than  death !  The  bisliop  of  Ely  and  the 
marquis  of  Dorset,  to  neither  of  whom  would  Richard  have  shown  any 
mercy,  were  fortunate  enough  to  escape  from  the  kingdom.  In  the  mean- 
time  the  young  earl  of  Richmond  with  a  ley  of  five  thousand  men  had 
sailed  from  St.  Maloes,  in  iguorince  of  the  misfortune  that  had  o(;curred 
to  his  cause  in  England ;  and  on  arriving  there  he  found  that,  for  the  pres- 
ent  ut  least,  all  hope  was  at  an  end,  and  he  sailed  back  to  Brittany. 

A.  D.  1484. — The  politic  Richard  easily  saw  that  the  recent  attempt  to  de- 
throne  him  had,  by  its  ill  success,  and  the  severity  with  which  he  had  pun- 
ished some  of  the  chief  actors  in  it,  very  considerably  tended  to  stren<{tlu'n 
his  cause  not  in  the  affections,  indeed,  but  in  tlie  terrors  of  the  people. 
Hitherto,  being  sensible  of  the  flagrant  impudence  as  well  as  deup  guilt 
of  his  usurpation,  he  had  been  well  content  to  resi  his  right  to  the  throne 
upon  the  tyrant's  right,  superior  strength.  But  he  judged  tiiat  he  now 
might  safelv  call  a  parliament  without  any  doubt  of  its  recognising  his 
title.  His  anticipation  proved  to  be  quite  correct;  the  parliament  acted 
just  as  he  wished,  echoed  his  words,  granted  him  the  usual  tonnage  and 
poundage  for  life,  and  passed  a  few  popular  laws.  With  the  same  purpose 
in  view  he  now  addressed  himself  to  the  seemingly  difficult  task  of  con- 
verting  the  queen  dowager  from  a  foe  into  a  friend.  He  saw  that  the  chief 
source  of  Richmond's  popularity  was  his  projected  espousal  of  the  prin- 
cess Elizabeth,  and  he  knew  enough  of  human  nature  to  feel  sure  that  a 
woman  of  tl;e  queen  dowager's  temper  would  be  far  from  unlikely  to  prefer 
the  union  of  her  daughter  with  a  king  in  fact,  to  her  union  with  an  earl 
who  might  never  be  a  king  at  all.  True  it  was  that  the  princess  Elizabeth 
was  solemnly  betrothed  to  fiis  rival  and  foe,  the  carl  of  Richmond,  and  was 
related  to  Richard  within  the  prohibited  degrees  ;  but  then  Rome  could  grant 
a  dispensation,  md  Rome  was  venal.  Thus  reasoning,  Richard  applied 
himself  to  the  queen  dowager,  and  met  with  all  the  success  he  had  anti- 
cipated. Wearied  with  her  long  seclusion  from  all  pleasure  and  all  au- 
thority, she  at  once  consented  to  give  ht  r  daughter  to  the  wretch  who  had 
deprived  her  of  three  sons  and  a  brother,  and  was  so  completely  converted 
to  his  interests  that  she  wrote  to  her  son,  the  marquis  of  Dorset,  and  all 
the  rest  of  her  connections  to  withdraw  from  supporting  Richmond,  a 
piece  of  eomplaisaiM-e  for  which  she  paid  full  dearly  in  the  next  reign. 

Flattering  iumself  that  no  material  danger  could  assail  his  tbr(>ne  during 
the  interval  necessary  for  procuring  the  dispensation  from  Rome,  Richard 
now  began  to  consider  himself  securely  settled  on  the  throne.  But  dan- 
ger accrued  to  him  even  out  of  the  very  measure  on  which  he  mainly 
rested  for  safety.  The  friends  of  the  earl  of  Richmond  now  more  than 
ever  pressed  him  to  try  his  fortune  in  invading  England,  lest  the  dispen 
nation  from  Rome  should  enable  Richard  to  complete  his  project  of  mar 


THK  THKASirRY  OF  HISTORY. 


41A 


rymit  •'•"  prini'fH»  Kliinln'tli,  whirh  )n;irriii|{«'  would  do  sn  miU'li  to  i'ljuro 
III!  tilt)  fiituri!  tii>|i«:i«  ufilu;  curl,  ;iH  lar  iIh  ilic  syiiipitliic!*  of  the  |)co|)>'.  >«iit; 
c<)n(!*;rtii'd,  iii  a  iiiiioii  uf  tlic  Iioiio'm  of  Vork  itiid  l.iiKMitttT.  Iictiry  iic- 
conliiiKly  I'Ufapfil  from  Hnllaiiy,  wlirm  lie  d(;t!iiit!(l  liiiiisflf  iii  danuiT  from 
tlio  trt'iuhfry  of  tin;  diikt^'s  coiilidniiiil  nimiMlrr,  iiiid  |iroi('fdid  lo  tlia 
court  of  France.  Ilcrc  hi;  \va«  «''«'•*''>'  «i<l'''i  ''X  <"linrlt'8  Vlll.,  who  liiul 
miccfcdcd  tiiu  tyrant  LoniH  XI.,  and  here,  too,  hn  was  joined  by  the  earl 
of  Oxford)  who  had  eHi'a|)ed  from  the  uaol  inio  which  Uichard'si  NUHpuionii 
had  thrown  him,  and  who  now  brought  Henry  mo.st  tlatterni^  aeoountM  of 
the  excellent  chance  lit)  had  from  the  popnhu  dHpoHition  in  Kn(r|and. 

Richard  in  the  nieuiitime,  unconscious  or  candesM  of  the  eirect  proilii 
ced  uii  the  conduct  of  Uiehmond  by  the  expectation  of  the  diNiiuiiHatiou 
which  was  lo  allow  Ilichard  to  deprive  him  of  his  promised  bride,  tri- 
utnpiicd  in  his  fortune  of  liaviii)^  become  a  widower  at  only  a  Hliort  time 
before  by  the  sudden  death — ho  sudden  that  imisoii  was  suspected,  hut 
railier  from  the  suddenness  and  from  the  general  character  of  lliidmrd 
tliiin  from  anything  like  pro(»f — of  his  wife  Anne,  widow  of  that  Kdward, 
prince  of  Wales,  of  whom  Kichard  was  the  murderer.  His  atUual  and  his 
proximate  marriage  must,  in  truth,  have  led  liim  to  believe  that  the  murder 
of  a  laily's  milt!  relatives  \Cas  anyiliing  rather  than  a  bar  to  her  favour! 

A.  D.  1485. — Uut  while  Richard  was  exulting  in  tri'iiiij  !i  as  to  the  past 
and  in  hojie  as  to  the  future,  llichmoiul  with  an  army  of  two  thousand 
men  had  sailed  from  the  Norman  port  of  Ilarllcur,  and  landed,  without 
experiencing  opposition,  at  Milford  Haven,  in  Wales.  Here,  as  he  ex- 
pected, the  zealous  though  unfortunate  exertions  of  tlie  duke  of  Uncking- 
nam  had  preposses.scd  the  people  in  his  favour,  and  his  little  army  was 
increased  by  volunteers  at  every  mile  he  marched.  Among  those  who 
joined  him  was  Sir  Rice  ap  Thomas  with  a  force  with  which  he  had  been 
entrusted  by  Richard;  and  even  the  other  commander  of  the  tyrant.  Sir 
Walter  Herbert,  made  but  a  faint  and  inefficient  show  of  defence  for 
Richard.  Thus  strengthened  by  actual  volunteers,  and  encouraged  by 
the  evident  lukewarmiiess  of  Richard's  partisans,  Richmond  marched  to 
Shrewsbury,  where  he  was  joined  by  the  whole  strength  of  the  great 
Shrewsbury  family  under  Sir  Gilbert  Talbot,  and  by  another  numerous 
reinforcement  under  Sir  Thomas  Bourchier  and  Sir  Walter  Hungerford. 

Richard,  who  had  taken  post  at  Nottingham,  as  being  so  central  as  to  ad- 
mit of  his  hastening  to  wliidievcr  part  of  the  kingdom  might  earlast  need 
his  aid,  was  not  nearh  so  inuch  annoyed  by  the  utmost  force  of  his  known 
enemies  as  he  w  -  perplexed  about  the  real  extent  to  which  he  could 
depend  upon  the  jj.  »od  faith  of  his  seeming  friends.  The  duke  of  Norfolk 
Richard  had  rtasim  lo  believe  that  he  could  securely  rely  upon;  but  Lord 
and  Sir  Wilham  Stanley,  who  had  vast  power  and  influence  in  the  north, 
were  close'*  connected  with  Richmond's  family.  Yet  while  the  usurper 
felt  the  dittiiicr  of  trusting  to  their  professions  of  friendship  and  good 
faith,  he  dared  not  break  with  them.  Compelled  by  his  situiilion  to  au- 
thorize them  to  raise  forces  on  his  behalf  in  Cheshire  and  Lancashire,  he 
endeavoured  lo  deter  them  from  arraying  those  forces  against  him,  by 
detaining  as  a  hostage  Lord  Stanley's  son.  Lord  Strange. 

Thoiigli  in  his  heart  Lord  Stanley  was  devoted  tfi  tin;  cause  of  Richmond, 
the  |)eril  in  which  his  son  Lord  Strange  was  place  induced  him  to  forbear 
from  (ieclariiig  himself,  and  he  posted  his  niiineions  levies  at  Atherstone, 
80  situated  that  he  could  at  will  join  either  party  Richard  in  this  con- 
duct of  Lord  Stanley  saw  a  convincing  proof  that  !ie  hostility  of  that  no- 
hleman  was  only  kept  in  check  by  the  situation  of  his  son ;  and  judging 
that  the  destruction  of  the  young  man  would  be  a  spell  of  very  different 
effect  from  his  continued  peril,  the  politic  tyrant  for  once  refused  to  shed 
Uood  when  advised  to  do  so  by  those  of  his  friends  who  discerned  the 
meaning  of  Lord  Stanley's  delay.    Trusting  that  Lord  Stanley's  hesitation 


tl« 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


would  Ias>  long  enough  to  allow  of  tho  royal  troops  dealing  only  with  the 
earl  of  Richmoiul,  Richard  approached  the  army  of  the  latter  nobleman 
at  Bosworth,  ia  Leiccslersliiro.  The  army  of  Richmond  was  only  six 
thousand,  that  of  Richard  double  the  number.  Both  Richard  and  the  earl 
fought  in  the  main  guards  of  iheir  respective  armies,  wiiicli  had  scarcely 
charged  each  other  ere  Lord  Stanley  led  up  his  forces  to  the  aid  of  Rich- 
mond.  The  effect  of  this  demonstration  was  tremendous,  both  in  en- 
couraging the  soldiers  of  the  earl  and  of  striking  dismay  into  the  already 
dispirited  troops  of  Richard.  Murderous  and  tyrannous  usurper  as  he  was, 
Richard  was  as  brave  as  a  lion  in  the  field.  Perceiving  that  such  power- 
ful aid  had  declared  for  his  rival,  notliing  but  the  death  of  that  rival  could 
give  him  any  hope  of  safety  for  life  or  throne;  Richard  intrepidly  rushed 
towards  the  spot  wliere  Richmond  was  ordering  his  troops,  and  endeav- 
oured to  engage  with  him  in  personal  combat,  but  while  fighting  with 
murderous  vigour  he  was  slain,  after  having  dismounted  Sir  John  Cheyn6 
and  killed  Sir  William  Brandon,  Richmond's  standard  bearer. 

The  battle  ended  with  the  life  of  Richard,  of  whom  it  may  with  the 
utmost  truth  be  said,  that  "nothing  in  his  life  became  him  like  the  leaving 
of  it."  Even  while  under  his  dreaded  eye  his  soldiers  had  fought  with 
no  good  will ;  and  when  he  fell  they  inimcdiaTely  took  to  flight.  On  the 
side  of  Richard,  besides  the  tyrant  hiinsoif,  there  lell  about  four  thousand, 
including  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  the  lord  Ferrars  of  Chartley,  Sir  Richard 
Ratciiffe,  Sir  Robert  Piercy,  and  Sir  Robert  Brackenbury ;  and  Catesbv, 
the  chief  confidant  and  most  willing  tool  of  Richard's  crimes,  being  taken 
prisoner,  was,  witii  some  minor  accomplices,  beheaded  at  Leicester. 

The  body  of  Richard  being  found  upon  the  field,  was  thrown  across  a 
miserable  horse,  and  carried,  amid  the  hooting  and  jeers  of  the  people 
who  so  lately  trendoled  at  him,  to  the  Grey  Friar's  church  at  Leicester, 
where  it  was  interred. 

The  courage  and  ability  of  this  prince  were  unquestionable;  but  all  his 
courage  and  ability,  misdirected  as  they  were,  served  only  to  render  him 
a  new  proof,  if  such  were  needed,  of  the  inferiority  of  the  most  brilliant 
gifts  of  intellect  loilhout  honour  and  religion,  to  comparatively  inferior 
talents  u>it/t  them.  Low  in  stature,  deformed,  and  of  a  harsh  countenance, 
Richard  might  yet  have  commanded  admiration  by  his  talents,  but  for  his 
excessive  and  ineradicable  propensity  to  the  wicked  as  regards  projects 
and  the  bloody  as  regards  action. 


CHAPTER  XXXVL 


THE    REIGN    OF   HENRY    VII. 


A.D.  1485. — The  joy  of  Richmond's  troops  at  the  defeat  of  Richard  was 
proportioned  to  the  hatred  with  which  that  tyrant  had  contrived  to  inspire 
every  bosom.  Long  live  King  Henry  the  Seventh !  was  the  exulting  cry 
which  now  everywhere  saluted  the  lately  exiled  and  distressed  carl  of 
Richmond ;  and  his  victorious  brow  was  bound  with  a  plain  gold  coronal 
which  had  been  worn  by  Richard,  and  had  been  torn  from  the  tyrant's 
forehead  by  Sir  William  Stanley  in  personal  combat  with  him  when  he  fell 

Though  Henry,  late  earl  of  Richmond,  and  now,  hy  possession.  King 
Henry  VIL,  had  more  than  one  ground  upon  which  to  rest  his  claim, 
there  was  not  one  of  those  grounds  which  was  not  open  to  objection. 
The  Lancastrian  claim  had  never  been  clearly  established  by  Henry  IV., 
and  if  the  parliament  had  often  supported  the  house  of  Lancaster,  so  the 
parliament  had  not  less  frequently — and  with  just  as  much  apparent  sin- 
cerity— paid  a  like  compliment  to  the  house  of  York.  Then  again,  allow- 
in    the  Lancastrian  claim  to  be  good  ex  fonte,  yet  Richmond  claimed  only 


THB  TaBASUBT  OF  HISTORY. 


417 


was 


from  the  illegitimate  branch  of  Somerset ;  and  again,  it  in  reality  wa^ 
now  vemed  not  in  him  but  in  his  still  living  mother,  the  countess  or  R'uAx- 
mond. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  was  open  to  Henry  to  fix  upon  himself,  by  virtue 
of  his  marriage  with  the  princess  Elizabeth,  the  superior  and  more  popu- 
lar title  of  the  house  of  York;  but  in  this,  so  far  as  the  York  title  was 
concerned  Henry  could  look  upon  himself  only  as  a  king  consort,  with 
Ihe  loss  of  his  authority  should  hid  queen  die  without  issue. 

The  right  of  conquest  he  could  scarcely  claim,  seeing  that  conquest 
was  achieved  by  Englishmen.  On  the  whole  review  of  his  case,  there- 
Tore,  Henry's  obvious  policy  was  to  set  forward  no  one  of  his  grounds  ol 
claim  with  such  distinctiveness  as  to  challenge  scrutiny  and  provoke  op- 
position, but  to  rely  chiefly  upon  the  strongest  of  all  rights,  that  of  pos- 
session, strengthened  still  farther  by  his  concurrent  circumstances  of  right 
and  maintained  by  a  judicious  policy  at  once  firm  and  popular,  watchful 
yet  seemingly  undoubting.  In  heart  Henry  was  not  the  less  a  Lancas- 
trian from  his  determination  lo  link  himself  to  the  house  of  York,  and 
strengthen  himself  by  its  means  in  the  popular  love.  Of  the  Yorkish 
support  he  was  sure  while  connected  with  the  house  of  York  by  marriage, 
but  this  far-sighted  aad  suspicious  temper  taught  him  to  provide  against 
his  possible  disconnection  from  that  house,  and  to  give  every  "  coign  of 
'vantage"  to  the  Lancastrians,  whose  friendship  was,  so  to  speak,  more 
germane  to  his  identity. 

Only  two  days  after  the  victoiy  of  Bosworth  field  Henry  gave  a  proof 
of  the  feelings  we  have  thus  attributed  to  him,  by  sending  Sir  Robert 
Wiiloughby  to  convey  the  young  earl  of  Warwick  from  Sheriff  Watton, 
in  Yorkshire,  where  Richard  had  detained  him  in  honourable  and  easy 
captivity,  to  the  close  custody  of  the  Tower  of  London.  Yet  this  un- 
fortunate son  of  the  duke  of  Clarence,  inasmuch  as  his  title,  however 
superior  to  that  of  Richard,  was  not  hostile  to  the  succession  of  either 
Henry  or  his  destined  bride,  might  have  reasonably  expected  a  more  in- 
dulgent treatment. 

Having  thus  made  every  arrangement,  present  and  prospective,  which 
even  his  jealous  policy  could  suggest,  Henry  gave  orders  for  the  princess 
Elizabeth  being  conveyed  to  London  preparatory  to  her  marriage.  He 
himself  at  the  same  time  approached  the  metropolis  by  easy  journies. 
Everywhere  he  was  received  with  the  most  rapturous  applause ;  which 
was  the  more  sincere  and  heariy,  because  while  his  personal  triumph  was 
shared  by  the  Lancastrians,  his  approaching  marriage  to  Elizabeth  gave 
a  share  of  that  triumph  to  the  Yorkists,  and  seemed  to  put  an  end  for 
ever  to  those  contests  between  the  rival  houses  which  had  cost  them  both 
so  much  suffering  during  so  long  a  time.  But  even  amidst  all  the  excite- 
ment attendant  upon  the  joy  with  which  men  of  all  ranks  hailed  their  new 
sovereign,  the  cold,  stern,  and  suspicious  temper  of  Henry  displayed  itself 
at  onre  ofTeiisively  and  unnecessarily.  On  his  arrival  at  London  tlie  mayor 
and  the  civic  companies  met  li.m  in  public  procession;  but  as  though  he 
disdained  their  gratulations,  or  suspected  their  sincerity,  he  passed  through 
them  in  a  close  carnage,  and  wiliiout  showing  the  slightest  sympathy 
with  their  evident  joy. 

Though  Henry  well  knew  the  importance  which  a  great  portion  of  his 
people  attached  to  his  union  with  the  princess  Elizabeth,  and,  with  his 
customary  politic  carefulness,  hastened  to  assure  them  of  his  unaltered 
determination  to  complete  that  marriage,  and  to  contradict  a  report — 
founded  upon  an  artful  hint  dropped  by  himself  while  he  was  yet  uncer- 
tain of  the  issue  of  his  contest  with  Richard — of  his  having  promised  to 
espouse  the  princess  Anne,  the  heiress  of  Brittany,  yet  he  delayed  his 
marriage  for  the  present;  being  anxious,  tacitly  at  the  least,  to  affirm  hia 
own  claim  to  the  crown  by  having  his  coronation  performed  previous  to 
Vol.  I.— 27 


tl8 


THB  TREASITRY  OF  HISTORY. 


hia  marriage.  Even  the  former  ceremony,  however,  was  for  a  time  de* 
ferred  by  the  raging  of  an  awful  plague,  long  afterwards  spoken  of  with 
shuddering,  under  the  name  of  the  sweating  sickness.  Tlie  sickness  in 
question,  was  endemic,  and  so  swift  in  its  operation,  that  the  person  at. 
tacked  almost  invariably  died  or  became  convalescent  within  four-and 
twenty  hours.  Either  by  the  skill  of  the  medical  men  or  by  some  sana- 
tory  alteration  in  the  condition  of  the  atmosphere,  this  very  terrible  visi- 
tation  at  length  ceased,  and  Henry  was  crowned  with  the  utmost  pomp. 
Twelve  knights  banneret  were  made  on  occasion  of  this  ceremony;  the 
king's  uncle,  Jasper,  earl  of  Pembroke,  was  created  duke  of  Bedford; 
TiOrd  Stanley,  the  king's  father-in-law,  earl  of  Derby;  and  Edward  Cour- 
tenay,  earl  of  Devonshire.  The  ceremony  was  performed  by  Cardinal 
Bourchier,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  had  been  so  much  aiding  in 
Henry's  good  fortune. 

Even  in  the  matter  of  his  coronation  Henry  could  not  refrain  from  evi- 
dencing  that  constant  and  haunting  suspicion  which  contrasted  so 
strangely  with  his  unquestionable  personal  courage,  by  creating  a  body- 
guard of  fifty-five  men,  under  the  title  of  yeomen  of  the  guard.  But  lest 
the  duty  of  this  guard,  that  of  personal  watch  and  ward  over  the  sover- 
eign, should  imply  any  of  the  Kuspicion  he  really  felt,  Henry  affected  to 
contradict  any  such  motive  by  publicly  and  pointedly  declaring  this  guard 
a  permanent  and  not  a  personal  or  temporary  appointment. 

Henry  now  summoned  a  parliament,  and  his  partisans  so  well  exerted 
themselves  that  a  majority  of  the  members  were  decided  Lancastrians. 
Some  of  them,  indeed,  had  been  outlawed  and  attainted  while  the  house  of 
York  was  in  the  ascendant,  and  a  question  was  raised  whether  persons 
who  had  been  thus  situated  could  rightfully  claim  to  sit  in  parliament. 
The  judges  who  were  consulted  upon  this  point  had  but  little  difficulty ;  it 
was  easily  to  be  dealt  with  as  a  simple  matter  of  expediency.  Accord- 
ingly they  recommended  that  the  elected  members  who  were  thus  situated 
should  not  bef  allowed  to  take  their  seats  until  their  former  sentences 
should  be  reversed  by  parliament,  and  there  was  of  course  neither  diffi. 
culty  nor  delay  experienced  in  passing  a  short  act  to  that  especial  effect. 

This  doubt  as  to  the  members  of  parliament,  however,  led  to  a  still  more 
important  one.  Henry  had  been  himself  attainted.  But  the  judges  very 
soon  solved  this  difficulty  by  a  decision,  evidently  founded  upon  a  limita- 
tion of  the  power  of  a  court  of  judicature  from  interfering  with  the  suc- 
cession i  a  power  which,  if  such  court  possessed  it,  might  so  often  be 
shamefully  perverted  by  a  bad  king  to  the  injury  of  an  obnoxious  heir  to 
the  throne.  The  judges  therefore  put  end  to  this  question  by  deciding 
"  that  the  crown  takes  away  all  defects  and  stops  in  blood ;  and  that  from 
the  time  that  the  king  assumed  the  royal  authority,  the  fountain  was  clear- 
ed, and  all  attaints  and  corruptions  of  blood  did  cease."  A  decision,  be  ii 
remarked,  far  more  remarkable  for  its  particular  justice  than  for  its  logical 
correctness. 

Finding  the  parliament  so  dutifu-Uy  inclined  to  obey  his  will,  the  king 
in  his  opening  speech  insisted  upon  both  his  hereditary  right  and  upon  his 
"  victory  over  his  enemies."  The  entail  and  the  crown  was  drawn  in 
equal  accordance  with  the  king's  anxiety  to  avoid  such  special  assertion 
on  any  one  of  his  grounds  of  claim  as  should  be  calculated  to  breed  dispu- 
tation ;  no  mention  was  made  of  the  princess  Elizabeth,  and  the  crown 
was  settled  absolutely  and  in  general  terms  upon  the  king  and  the  heir  j  of 
his  body. 

It  forms  a  remarkable  contrast  to  the  general  reserve  and  astuteness  of 
the  king,  that  he,  as  if  not  content  with  all  the  sanctions  by  which  he  had 
already  fortified  his  possession  of  the  crown,  now  applied  to  the  pope  for 
a  confirming  bull.  This  application,  besides  being  liable  to  objection  asav 
impolitic  concession  to  the  mischievous  and  undying  anxiety  of  Rome  t 


•-J-;;;"',-*:,*''' 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


4J« 


interfere  in  the  temporal  affairs  of  nations,  was  still  farther  imiio.iUc  as 
showing,  what  Henry  ought  of  all  things  the  most  cautiously  to  have  con- 
cealed, his  own  misgivings  as  to  his  title.  Innocent  VIII.,  the  then  pope, 
was  delighted  to  gratify  Henry  and  to  interfere  in  his  temporal  concerns, 
and  he  immediately  obliged  him  \Yith  a  bull  in  which  all  Henry's  titles  to 
the  crown  were  enumerated  and  sanctioned,  and  in  which  excommunica- 
tion was  denounced  against  all  who  should  disturb  Henry  in  his  possession, 
or  his  heirs  in  their  succession. 

It  consisted  at  once  with  justice  and  with  sound  policy  that  Henry  should 
reverse  the  numerous  attainders  which  had  been  passed  against  the  Lancas- 
trians. But  he  went  still  farther,  and  caused  his  obsequious  parliament 
to  pass  attainders  against  the  deceased  Richard,  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  the 
earl  of  Surrey,  the  viscount  Lovel,  the  lords  Ferrard  of  Charlies,  and  up- 
wards of  twenty  other  gentlemen  of  note.  There  was  a  something  of  the 
absurd  added  to  very  much  of  the  tyrannical  in  these  sweeping  attainders. 
Richard,  usurper  though  he  was,  nevertheless  was  king  de  facto,  and  those 
against  whom  these  attainders  were  passed  thus  fought  for  the  king,  and 
against  the  earl  of  Richmond,  who  had  not  then  assumed  the  title  of  king. 
The  attainders  were  farther  impolitic  because  they  greatly  tended  to 
weaken  the  confidence  of  the  people  in  the  total  oblivion  of  the  quarrels 
of  the  roses ;  to  which  confidence  Henry  ought  to  have  been  mindful  that 
he  owed  no  small  portion  of  security  and  popularity. 

Though  Henry  did  not  deem  it  expedient  to  add  to  the  numerous  de- 
mands he  had  so  successfully  made  upon  this  obsequious  parliament,  it 
voluntarily  conferred  upon  him  the  perpetuity  of  tonnage  and  poundage, 
which  had  been  just  as  complacently  conferred  upon  the  deceased  Richard. 
By  way  of  compensation  for  the  spiteful  severity  with  which  he  had  treat- 
ed the  leading  friends  of  the  deceased  king,  Henry  now  proclaimed  grace 
.  id  pardon  to  all  who  should  by  a  certain  day  take  the  oaths  of  fealty  and 

legiancc  to  him.  But  when  the  earl  of  Surrey,  among  the  multitude 
..noiTi  this  proclamation  drew  from  their  sanctuaries,  presented  himself  to 
the  king,  he  was,  instead  of  being  received  to  grace,  immediately  commit- 
ted to  the  Tower.  Besides  rewarding  his  immediate  supporters  by  cre- 
ating Chandos  of  Brittany,  earl  of  Bath ;  Sir  Giles  Daubuny,  Lord  Dau- 
beny ;  and  Sir  Robert  Willoughby,  Lord  Broke ;  the  king  bestowed  upon 
he  duke  of  Buckingham,  who  so  fatally  to  himself  had  embraced  Henry's 
cause,  a  sort  of  posthumous  reward  in  making  restitution  of  the  family 
honours  and  great  wealth  to  Edward  Stafford,  the  duke's  eldest  son. 

Morton,  who  had  so  ably  and  under  such  perilous  circumstances  proved 
his  friendship  to  Henry,  was  restored  to  the  bishopric  of  Ely,  and  he  and 
another  clergyman,  Fox,  now  made  bishop  of  Exeter,  were  the  ministers 
to  whom  Henry  gave  his  chief  confidence.  Hume  thinks  that  Henry's 
preference  of  clerics  to  laics,  as  his  confidential  advisers,  arose  from  his 
narrow  and  calculating  turn,  their  promotion  from  poorer  to  richer  bish- 
oprics affording  him  the  means  of  stimulating  and  rewarding  their  zeal  less 
onerously  to  himself  than  could  have  been  the  case  with  laymen  of  rank. 
But  Hume  seems  here  to  have  laid  a  somewhat  undue  weight  upon  Hen- 
ry's general  character,  and  so  to  have  mistaken  his  motives  to  a  particular 
transaction:  Henry,  though  personally  brave,  was  emphatically  a  lover  of 
peace ;  he  preferred  the  conquest  of  the  intellect  to  the  conquest  of  the 
jword.  He  was  himself,  so  to  speak,  intellectually  of  a  clerical  mould. 
The  learnirgand  the  intellectual  mastery  of  the  day  were  chiefly  in  pos- 
jession  of  the  clergy ;  and  we  need  look  no  deeper  than  that  fact  to  ac- 
c:)unt  for  his  preference  of  them,  that  fact  sufficiently  proving  that  they 
ivere  best  adapted  to  the  cautious,  tortuous,  thoughtful,  and  deep  polity 
which  he  from  the  first  determined  to  follow. 

A.  D.  1486. — Henry's  emphatic  declaration  of  his  unaltered  intention  to 
espouse  the  princess  Elizabeth  did  not  wholly  quiet  the  apprehensions  of 


«M) 


THB  TElffiASURY  OP  Hi9T0RY. 


♦he  people  upon  that  head.    The  parliament,  even  when  showing  its  trust 
fulness  or  him  and  its  zeal  f:)r  his  pleasure  in  granting  him  the  tonnagi; 
and  poundage,  expressed  strong  wishes  upon  the  subject ;  and  though  they 
concealed  their  real  motives  under  a  general  declaration  of  their  desire 
that  ihcy  should  have  heirs  to  succeed  him,  his  own  comparative  youth 
must  have  sufficed  to  convince  so  astute  a  person  that  the  parliament  had 
other  and  stronger  reasons  for  its  a-ixiety.     This  very  conviction,  how- 
ever, was  but  an  additional  reason  for  his  hastening  to  comply ;  and  the 
nuptials  were  now  celebrated  with  a  pomp  and  luxury  surpassing  even 
those  which  had  marked  his  coronation.    The  joy  of  the  people  was  con- 
t     iuously  greater  in  the  former  than  it  had  been  in  the  latter  casf  ;  and  to 
,e  brooding  and  anxiously  suspicious  mind  oi"  Henry  this  new  and  plain  in- 
dication of  the  warmth  of  affection  with  which  the  house  of  York  was  still 
looked  upon  by  a  great  portion  of  hie  subjects,  was  to  the  highest  degree 
painful  and  offensive.     Publicly  his  policy  prevented  this  from  appearing, 
but  in  his  domestic  life  it  caused  him  to  treat  the  queen  with  a  harshness 
and  coldness  which  her  amiable  temper  and  the  extreme  submissiveness 
of  her  bearing  t'*  .^ards  her  husband  by  no  means  appear  to  have  deserved 
Soon  after  his  marriage  Henry  determined  to  make  a  progress  through 
the  northern  counties,  in  the  view  of  awing  some  and  conciliating  the  rest 
of  the  partizans  of  the  la* '  king  and  his  house,  who  were  more  numerous 
in  that  part  of  the  kingdom  than  elsewhere.   He  had  already  reached  Not- 
tingham  when  he  received  information  that  Sir  Humphrey  Stafford,  his 
brother,  and  the  viscount  Lovel  had  left  the  sanctuary  at  Colchester,  in 
which  they  had  found  shelter  since  the  battle  of  Bosworth  field.     Unheed- 
ing, or  at  any  rate  not  fearing  the  consequences  of  this  movement,  he  con- 
tinued his  progress  to  York,  where  he  learned  that  Viscount  Lovel,  with  a 
force  three  or  four  thousand  strong,  was  marching  to  York,  while  anothei 
army,  under  Sir  Humphrey  Stafford  and  his  brother,  was  hastening  to  be 
siege  Worcester.    The   uprising  of  such  enemies  at  the  very  momei- 
when  he  was  in  the  centre  of  precisely  that  pan  of  England  which  was 
the  most  disaffected  to  him  might  have  paralysed  an  ordinary  mind ;  but 
the  resources  of  Henry's  intellect  and  courage  rose  in  accordance  with 
the  demands  on  them.     The  mere  retinue  with  which  he  travelled  formed 
no  mean  nucleus  of  an  army,  and  he  actively  and  successfully  engaged 
himself  in  adding  to  their  numbers.    The  force  thus  raised  was  of  nec'es 
sity  ill  found  in  either  arms  or  the  munitions  of  war  ;  and  Henry  therefore 
charged  the  duke  Bedford,  to  whom  he  entrusted  the  chief  (command,  to 
avoid  any  instant  general  engagement,  and  to  devote  his  chief  exertions 
to  weakening  Lovel  by  seducing  his  adherents  by  promises  of  pardon. 
This  policy  was  even  more  successful  than  Henry  could  have  anticipated. 
Conscious  of  the  great  effect  which  the  king's  offers  were  likely  to  pro- 
duce upon  rude  minds,  already  by  no  means  zealous  in  the  cause  which 
they  had  embraced,  Lovel  was  so  terrified  with  the  thought  of  being  aban- 
doned, and  perhaps  even  made  prisoner  by  his  motley  levy,  that  he  fairly 
ran  away  from  his  troops,  and  after  some  difficulty  escaped  to  Flanders, 
where  he  was  sheltered  by  the  duchess  of  Burgundy.     Abandoned  by  their 
leader,  Lovel's  troops  gladly  submitted  to  the  king  in  accordance  with  ins 
offers  of  mercy  ;  and  the  utter  failure  of  this  branch  of  the  revolt  so  terri- 
fied the  revolted  who  were  before  Worcester,  that  they  hastily  raised  tlie 
siege  of  that  place  and  dispersed.     The  Staffords,  thus  deserted  by  their 
troops  and  unable  to  find  instant  means  of  escaping  beyond  sea,  took  shel- 
ter in  the  church  of  Colnham,  near  Abingdon.     It  turned  out,  however, 
that  this  church  was  one  which  did  not  possess  the  right  of  sanctuary,  and 
the  unfortunate  Staffords  were  dragged  forth.    The  elder  was  executed 
as  a  traitor  and  rebel  at  Tyburn  ;  the  younger  was  pardoned  on  the  ground 
of  his  having  been  misied  by  his  elder  brother,  who  was  presumed  to  have 
a  auast  paternal  influence  over  his  mind. 


THE  TBEASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


421 


!rri- 
tlio 
leir 
hel- 
ver, 
and 
ited 
lund 
lavc 


To  the  jo)r  which  the  dissipation  of  this  threatening  revo.t  diflfused 
among  the  friends  of  Henry  was  now  added  that  excited  by  the  delivery 
of  the  queen  of  a  son  and  heir,  on  whom  was  conferred  the  name  of  Ar 
thiir,  both  in  compliment  to  the  infant's  principality  of  Wales,  and  in  allu 
sion  to  the  pretended  descent  of  the  Tudors  from  the  far-famed  Prince 
Arthur 

The  success  of  the  king  m  putting  an  end  to  the  late  revolt  had  arisen 
chiefly  fro.r  the  incapacity  of  Lovcl  for  the  tisk  he  had  ventured  to  under- 
take ;  and  theie  was  still  a  strong  under-current  of  ill-feeling  towards  the 
king,  to  which  he  was  daily,  though,  perhaps,  unconsciously,  adding 
strength.  To  the  vexation  caused  by  Henry's  evident  Lancastrian  feeling, 
as  manifested  by  his  severities  to  men  of  the  opposite  party,  and  espe- 
cially  by  his  stern  and  harsh  treatment  of  the  queen,  much  more  vexation 
was  caused  by  the  sufferings  of  many  principal  Yorkists  from  the  resump- 
tion by  the  crown  of  all  grants  made  by  princes  of  the  house  of  York. 
This  resumption  was  made  by  Henry  upon  what  appears  really  to  have 
been  the  just  plea  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  the  remedy  of  the 
great  and  mischievous  impoverishment  of  the  crown.  This  plea  has  all 
tlie  more  appearance  of  sincerity  from  the  fact  that  by  the  very  same  law 
all  the  grants  made  during  the  later  years  of  Henry  VI.  were  resumed; 
a  resumption  which  injured  not  Yorkists  but  Lancastrians.  But  losing 
men  are  rarely  reasonable  men ;  and  as  the  balance  and  injury  was  heavi- 
est  on  the  side  of  the  Yorkists,  they  saw  in  this  a  new  proof  of  the  Lan- 
castrian prejudice  of  Henry,  which  had  caused  him  to  imprison  in  "  Ju- 
lius' bloody  tower,"  in  the  very  place  where  his  unfortunate  cousin  had 
been  butchered,  the  young  earl  of  Warwick.  Faction  is  deprived  of  none 
of  its  virulence  or  activity  by  the  admixture  of  pecuniary  interests ;  and 
those  who  were  injured  by  the  resumption  of  grants  were  not  ill  disposed, 
as  events  soon  proved,  to  countenance,  dt  the  least,  aught  that  promised 
to  injure  the  gaoler  of  the  earl  of  Warwick,  and  the  harsh  spouse  of  the 
princess  of  the  house  of  York,  who,  merely  because  she  was  such,  was 
still  uncrowned,  though  the  mother  of  a  prince  of  Wales,  and  wholly  irre- 
proachable whether  as  queen,  wife,  or  motiier. 

The  great  and  growing  unpopularity  of  Henry's  government  combined 
with  other  circumiitances  to  suggest  to  a  priest  of  Oxford  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  and  audacious  impostures  recorded  in  our  history.  The  priest 
in  question,  Richard  Simon,  well  knowing  hew  strong  the  Yorkist  feeling 
among  the  people  was  rendered  by  the  king's  unpopular  manners  and 
measures,  formed  a  plan  for  disturbing  Henry  by  bringing  forward,  as  a 
pretender  to  the  crown,  a  very  handsome  and  graceful  youth  named  Lam- 
bert Simnel.  This  youth,  though  he  was  only  the  son  of  a  baker,  adaed 
great  shrewdnes?  and  address  to  his  external  advantages;  and  Simon 
doubted  not,  by  careful  instruction,  of  being  able  to  form  this  youth  to 
personate  Richard,  duke  of  York,  the  younger  of  the  murdered  princes, 
whose  escape  from  the  Tower  and  from  the  fate  of  his  elder  brother  had 
become  a  matter  of  rather  extensive  belief.  But  while  Simon  was  care- 
fully giving  young  Simnel  the  necessary  instructions  and  information  to 
enable  him  to  support  the  part  of  the  duke  of  York,  a  new  rumour  pre- 
Viiiled  that  the  earl  of  Warwick  had  escaped  from  the  Tower.  "On  this 
hint  spake  the  priest ;"  the  name  of  the  '^«rl  of  Warwick  would  be  as  good 
to  conjure  with  as  that  of  Richard,  duke  of  York ;  and  Simnel  was  now 
instructed  in  all  such  particulars  of  the  life  and  family  of  young  Warwick 
as  would  be  necessary  to  enable  him  to  bear  the  questioning  of  the  friends 
of  that  family.  So  excellently  was  the  young  impostor  "crammed,"  for 
his  task,  so  well  informed  did  he  afterwards  appear  to  be  upon  certain 
points  of  the  private  history  of  the  royal  family,  that  could  by  no  means 
have  come  within  the  observation  of  an  obscure  priest  like  his  instructor, 
that  shrewd  suspicions  were  entertained  that  certain  of  the  royal  family  of 


123 


THE  THEA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


York  must  themselves  have  aided  in  preparing  the  youth  for  bis  mission 
of  imposture.  The  queen  dowager  was  among  the  personages  tiius  sus- 
pected. She  and  her  daughter  were  both  very  unkindly  treated  by  Henry, 
and  the  dowager  was  preciBely  of  that  busy  and  aspiring  turn  of  mind 
which  would  render  neglect  and  forced  inaction  sufficiently  offensive  to 
prompt  the  utmost  anger  and  injury ;  and  she  might  safely  promote  the 
views  of  the  impostor  in  the  first  place,  in  the  full  confidence  of  being  able 
to  crush  him  whensoever  he  should  have  sufliciently  served  the  views  of 
herself  and  of  her  party. 

Aware  that,  after  all  the  pains  he  had  taken  to  prepare  the  apt  mind  of 

his  promising  young  pupil,  many  chances  of  discovery  would  exist  in  Eng. 

lancl 'A.'^'ich  would  be  avoided  by  commencing  their  nefarious  proceedings 

di'   nice,  Simon  determined  to  lay  the  opening  scene  of  his  fraudulent 

iir  ,  Hi  Ireland.  In  that  island  Warwick's  ff'her,  the  late  duke  of  Clar- 
inets was  remembered  with  the  utmost  affection  on  account  of  his  per- 
.sonal  character,  as  well  as  of  his  many  public  acts  of  justice  and  wisdom 
while  he  had  been  governor.  The  same  public  ofllcers  now  held  their  sit- 
uations there  who  had  done  so  under  Clarence,  and  under  so  many  favour- 
able circumstances  Simon,  probably,  could  not  better  have  chosen  the 
scene  of  the  first  act  of  his  elaborate  and  very  impudent  imposture. 

Henry,  on  getting  the  alarming  intelligence  from  Dublin,  consulted  with 
his  ministers,  and  among  the  first  measures  taken  was  that  of  seizing  upon 
all  the  property  of  the  queen  dowager,  and  closely  confining  her  in  the 
nunnery  of  Bermondsey.  This  rigorous  treatment  of  the  queen  dowager, 
occurring,  too,  at  this  particular  time,  seems  to  leave  no  doubt  that  she 
had  been  discovered  to  have  materially  aided  the  imposture  of  Simon  and 
Simnel.  The  alledged  reason  of  the  king  for  thus  severely  dealing  with 
one  with  whom  he  was  so  closely  connected,  was  her  having  shown  so 
much  favour  to  the  deceased  tyrant  Richard,  as  to  place  herself  and  her 
daughters  in  his  power  when  she  was  safe  within  her  sanctuary,  and  to 
consent  to  his  marriage  with  the  princess  Elizabeth.  But  it  was  quite 
clear  to  every  man  of  discernment,  that  the  king's  subsequent  marriage  to 
the  princess  was  a  complete  condonation  of  all  that  had  previously  passed 
between  him  and  the  dowager  which  could  materially  offend  him ;  nor 
was  he  of  a  temper  so  long  to  have  suffered  his  avarice  and  his  vengeance 
to  remain  in  abeyance,  had  that  really  been  the  ground  of  his  offence. 
That  he  disliked,  not  to  say  hated,  his  mother-in-law,  had  long  been  cer- 
tain ;  and  it  seems  no  less  so,  from  his  present  proceeding  with  respect 
to  her,  that  he  now  had  discovered  reason  to  fear  her,  as  being  important- 
ly aiding  and  abetting  in  an  imposture,  which  had  been  eminently  success- 
ful in  Ireland,  and  which  he  was  by  no  means  sure  would  not  be  equally 
so  in  England.  Having  securely  guarded  against  any  future  mischief  from 
the  queen  dowager,  by  thus  consigning  her  to  a  poverty  and  seclusion 
which  terminated  only  with  her  life,  the  king  now  gave  his  English  sub- 
jects  the  very  best  pcss'hle  proof  of  the  imprudence  and  falsehood  of  Sim; 
nel's  assumption  of  the  title  and  character  of  the  earl  of  Warwick,  by  pro- 
ducing that  unfortunate  young  nobleman  himself  at  St.  Paul's,  and  caus- 
ing many  persons  of  rank  who  had  intimately  known  him  to  have  free 
conversation  with  him ;  and  thus  not  only  demonstrate  that  the  preten- 
sions of  Simnel  were  false,  but  also  that  they  were  even  founded  upon  a 
false  report,  the  earl's  escape  from  the  Tower,  which  Simon  and  his  abet- 
tors had  too  hastily  believed  on  the  strength  of  popular  rumour,  never  hav- 
ing actually  taken  place. 

In  London  and  in  England  generally  this  judicious  measure  was  com- 
pletely decisive  of  the  popular  belief ;  and  all  who  were  acquainted  with 
the  king's  tortuous  mind,  easily  understood  that  he  himself  had  caused  thf 
rumour  of  the  young  earl's  escape,  for  the  purpose  of  saving  himself  froir 


THtt  THEAaUttY  OP  HISTORY. 


433 


Seing  impuituned  to  release  him,  and  also  to  prevent  any  plots  being 
formed  for  that  purpose. 

Henry's  bold  temper  would  probably  have  prompted  him  to  go  over  to 
Ireland,  carrying  with  him  the  real  Warwick.  But,  in  the  first  place,  he 
knew  that  tlie  consummate  assurance  of  Simon  and  his  friends  had  led 
them,  even  after  the  imposture  had  become  a  mere  mockery  in  England, 
to  protest  that  the  real  Warwick  was  the  youth  in  their  company,  and  that 
the  Warwick  whom  Henry  hnd  so  ostentatiously  produced  was  the  only 
impostor.  And,  in  the  next  place,  Henry  from  day  to  day  had  information 
which  made  it  quite  certain  that  too  many  powerful  people  in  England 
were  his  enemies,  and  inclined  to  aid  the  impostor,  to  render  it  safe  for 
him  to  be  absent  from  the  kingdom  for  even  a  brief  space  of  time.  He 
therefore  resolved  to  await  the  farther  proceedings  of  the  impostor,  and 
contented  himself  with  levying  troops,  which  he  placed  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  duke  of  Bedford  and  the  earl  of  Oxford,  and  throwing  into 
confinement  the  marquis  of  Dorset,  not  on  account  of  any  actual  overt  act, 
but  lest  he  should  be  inclined  to  treason  by  the  hard  measure  which  had 
been  dealt  out  to  his  mother,  the  queen  dowager. 

Having  pretty  nearly  worn  out  their  welcome  in  Ireland,  and  having,  be- 
sides numerous  Irish  adventurers,  been  supplied  by  the  dowager  duchess 
of  Burgundy  with  about  two  thousand  veteran  Germans  headed  by  a  vet- 
eran commander,  Martin  Schwartz,  Simon  and  Simnel  made  a  landing  at 
Foudrey,  in  Lancashire,  not  doubting  that  the  Yorkists,  whom  they  knew 
to  be  so  numerous  in  the  northern  counties,  would  join  them  in  great  num- 
bers. In  this  respect  they  were  grievously  disappointed.  The  well  known 
courage  and  conduct  of  the  king,  the  general  impression  even  among  the 
Yorkists  of  England  that  Simnel  was  a  mere  impostor,  and  the  excellent 
military  arrangements  and  large  military  force  of  the  king,  caused  the  in- 
habitants of  the  northern  counties  either  to  look  on  passively  or  to  mani- 
fest their  loyalty  by  joining  or  supplying  the  royal  army. 

John,  earl  of  Lincoln,  son  of  John  de  la  Pole,  duke  of  Suffolk,  and  ot 
Elizabeth,  eldcf  sister  of  Kdward  IV.,  had  for  some  time  past  been  resid- 
ing with  the  k'  s  bitter  enemy,  the  dowager  duchess  of  Burgundy ;  and 
he  now  appea.ed  at  the  head  of  the  mingled  crew  of  impostors,  rebels,  and 
their  foreign  and  hireling  mercenaries.  This  nobleman  perceiving  that 
nothing  was  to  be  hoped  from  any  general  rising  of  the  people  in  favour 
of  the  pseudo  earl  of  Warwick,  resolved  to  put  the  fate  of  the  cause  upon 
the  issue  of  a  general  action.  The  king  was  equally  ready  to  give  battle, 
and  the  hostile  forces  at  length  met  at  Stoke,  in  Nottinghamshire.  The 
rebels,  conscious  that  they  fought  with  halters  around  their  necks,  fought 
with  proportionate  desperation.  The  action  was  long  and  sanguinary ; 
and  though  it  at  length  terminated  in  favour  of  the  king,  his  loss  was  far 
more  extensive  than  could  have  been  expected,  considering  his  advantage 
af  numbers  and  the  ability  of  his  officers.  The  loss  on  the  side  of  the  reb- 
els, also,  was  very  great.  The  earl  of  Tiincoln,  Broughton,  and  the  Ger- 
man, Schwartz,  were  among  four  thousand  slain  on  that  side ;  and  as  the 
viscount  Lovel,  the  runaway  of  the  former  and  less  sanguinary  revolt,  who 
also  took  a  part  in  this,  was  missing  and  never  afterwards  heard  of,  it  was 
supposed  that  he,  too,  was  among  the  slain.  Both  the  impostor  Simnel 
and  his  tutor  Simon  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  king.  The  priest  owed  his 
life  to  hif  clerical  character,  but  was  sentenced  to  pass  the  whole  remain- 
der of  it  in  confinement;  and  Henry,  both  mercifully  and  wisely,  signified 
his  contempt  of  the  boy  Simnel,  by  making  him  a  scullion  in  the  royal 
kitchen.  In  this  capacity,  better  suited  to  his  origin  than  the  part  the 
priest  had  so  uselessly  taught  him  to  play,  Simnel  conducted  himself  so 
numbly  and  satisfactorily,  that  he  was  afterwards  advanced  to  the  rank  of 
falconer,  a  rank  at  that  time  very  far  higher  than  could  ordinarily  be  at- 
tained bv  one  so  humbly  born. 


194 


THR  TRBAflURY  OP  HIl»roaY. 


Havingr  freed  hiinself  from  a  danger  whLch  had  at  one  time  been  nf  4 
little  alarming,  Henry  now  turned  his  attention  towards  making  it,  as  •'a 
loved  to  make  everything,  a  source  of  profit.  Few  perished  on  the  scaf- 
fold  for  this  revolt,  but  vast  numbers  were  heavily  fined  for  having  taken 
part  in  it.  And  lest  the  mulcture  of  actual  combatants  should  not  suffl. 
ciently  enrich  the  royal  treasury,  Henry  t-nused  all  to  be  fined  who  were 
proved  to  have  given  circulation  to  a  rumour,  which  had  somehow  got 
into  circulation  before  the  battle  of  Stoke,  tliat  the  rebels  were  victorious, 
and  that  Henry  himself,  after  seeing  his  friends  cut  to  pieces,  had  only 
secured  his  safety  by  flight.  To  our  modern  notions,  the  mere  crediting 
and  reporting  of  such  a  statement  seems  to  be  somewhat  severely  pun- 
ished by  heavy  pecuniary  fine ;  but  Henry  perhaps,  thought  that  in  most 
of  the  cases  "tne  wish  was  father  to  the  thought,"  and  that  many  who 
had  given  circulation  to  the  report  would  not  have  been  violently  grieved 
had  it  turned  out  to  be  "prophetic,  though  not  true." 

Warned  by  much  that  had  reached  his  ears  during  the  absurd  and  mis. 
chievous  career  of  Simnel,  Henry  now  determined  to  remove  at  least  one 
cause  of  dissatisfaction,  by  having  the  queen  crowned.  This  was  accord- 
ingly done ;  and  to  render  the  ceremony  the  more  acceptable  to  the  peo- 
file  in  general,  but  especially  to  the  Yorkists,  Henry  graced  it  by  giving 
ibertv  to  the  young  marquis  of  Dorset,  son  of  the  queen  dowager. 


CHAPTER  XXXVH. 

THE    REION  OF  HENRY   Til.    (CONTINUED.) 

A.  D.  1488. — Henry's  steadfast  style  of  administering  the  affairs  of  hi» 
kingdom,  and  the  courage,  conduct,  and  facility  with  which  he  had  de- 
livered  himself  from  the  dangerous  jflottj  and  revolts  by  which  he  had  been 
hreatened,  acquired  him  much  consideration,  out  of  his  own  dominions 
as  well  as  in  them.  Of  this  fact  he  was  well  aware,  and  internal  peace 
now  seeming  to  be  permanently  secured  to  him,  he  prepared  to  exert  his 
influence  abroad. 

The  geographical  circumstances  of  Scotland  rendered  it  inevitable,  that 
so  long  as  that  kingdom  remained  politically  independent  of  F  igland  the 
former  must  always  remain  either  an  open  and  troublesome  enemy,  or  an 
unsafe,  because  insincere,  friend  to  the  latter.  The  character  of  James 
HI.  who  now  filled  the  Scottish  throne,  was  precisely  of  that  easy  and 
indolent  cast  which,  while  it  encouraged  a  turbulent  nobility  to  waste 
the  (•<  itry  and  vex  the  people,  would  have  encouraged  a  king  of  England 
addicted  to  war  and  conquest  merely  for  their  own  sake,  to  prosecute  war 
with  Scotland  in  the  assured  trust  of  making  a  final  and  complete  conquest. 
But  Henry,  though  he  could  look  with  unblenched  cheek  upon  the  most 
sanguinary  battle-field,  was  profoundly  sensible  of  the  blessings  of  peace. 
He  therefore  now  sent  ambassadors  to  Scotland  to  propose  a  permanent 
and  honorable  peace  between  the  two  countries.  James  on  his  part  would 
have  well  liked  to  conclude  such  a  peace,  but  his  nobility  had  other  views, 
md  all  that  came  of  this  embassy  was  a  somewhat  sullen  agreement  for  a 
•-even-year's  truce;  but  it  must  have  been  evident  to  a  far  less  keen  ob- 
eerver  than  Henry,  that  even  that  truce  would  be  very  likely  to  be  broken, 
ohould  the  breach  be  invited  by  any  peculiarly  unfavourable  circumstances 
jn  the  situation  of  England.  With  this  truce,  however,  sullen  and  insin- 
cere as  the  Scottish  temper  very  evidently  was,  Henry  determined  to  con- 
tent  himself;  and  from  Scotland  he  now  turned  his  attention  to  France. 

Louis  XI.  was  some  time  dead,  and  his  son  and  heir  was  too  young  for 
."ules  especially  in  a  kingdom  more  than  any  other  in  Europe  obnoxious  to 
disturbance  from  the  turbulence  and  ambition  of  powerful  vassals.     But 


THE  THBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


4>5 


IiOuis,  a  profound  judge  of  human  dispositions  and  talents,  had  well  provided 
for  the  juvenile  incapacity  of  his  uon,  by  cuininitting  the  care  of  the  king- 
dom, during  his  minority,  to  his  daughter  Anne,  lady  of  Ueaujeu,  a  prin- 
cess of  maHculine  talents  and  courage.  This  lady  became  involved  in 
many  and  serious  disputes  with  Urittany,  which  disputes  were  greatly 
fomented  by  the  duke  of  Orleans,  and  so  far  involved  France  with  other 
provinces,  that  at  this  time  the  lady  of  Beaujeu  felt  that  tlie  issue  of  the 
struggle  in  which  she  was  engaged,  greatly,  almost  entirely,  depended 
upon  the  purl  which  might  be  taken  by  the  powerful,  prosperous,  and  sa- 
gacious kmg  of  Engliind.  The  subjection  of  Brittany  by  France  seemed 
quite  certain  did  not  England  interfere  ;  and  Anne  of  Beaujeu  sent  am- 
bassadors to  England,  ostensibly  with  the  chief  purpose  of  congratulat- 
ing Henry  on  his  success  over  Simncl  and  the  partizans  of  that  misguid- 
ed youth.  The  real  purpose  of  this  embassy  was,  in  fact,  to  engage 
Henry  to  look  on  without  interfering,  while  his  benefactor,  the  duke  of 
Brittany,  should  be  plundered  of  his  territory.  Henry,  who  well  under- 
stood that,  and  who  really  wished  to  serve  the  duke  of  Brittany,  but  who 
mortally  hated  the  expense  of  war,  endeavoured  by  polity  and  mediation 
to  put  an  end  to  the  strife.  As  will  be  seen  in  the  history  of  France,  both 
mediation  and  warfare  wore  tried  in  vain  until  the  year  1491,  when  the 
young  duchess  of  Renncs  being  besieged  in  Rennes  by  the  French,  was 
compelled  to  surrender,  and  restored  the  duchy  to  peace  by  giving  her 
hand  to  the  French  monarch. 

This  termination  of  an  affair  in  which  he  had  lost  the  benefit  of  much 
thought  and  money,  by  not  being  more  liberal  both  of  money  and  vigour, 
vexed  Henry  exceedingly ;  but,  with  a  most  philosophic  creed,  he  resolv- 
ed to  turn  even  his  failure  to  profit.    The  loss  of  independence  to  Brit- 
tany really  affected  Henry  very  deeply,  and  the  more  so  as  he  had  been 
in  some  sort  out-gcneralled  by  Charles  VHI.  of    France.    But  it  was 
Henry's  care  to  appear  more  deeply  hurt  than  he  really  was,  and  he  loud- 
ly and  passionately  declared  his  intention  to  go  to  war.     He  well  knew 
that  the  acquisition  of  Brittany  to  France  was  to  the  last  degree  offensive 
to  the  people  of  England,  and  a  war  wiili  France  proportionally  popular, 
and  he  took  his  measures  accordingly.     He  issued  a  commission  for  the 
raising  of  a  benevolence,  which  species  of  tax  had,  however,  been  formal- 
ly and  positively  abolished  by  a  law  of  the  tyrant  Richard,  though  now 
so  coolly  laid  on  by  a  king  who  wolud  have  deemed  it  strange  had  he 
been  called  a  tyrant.     Of  the  extent  of  the  extortion — for  it  was  no  bet- 
ter— practised  upon  this  occasion,  some  notion  may  be  formed  from  the 
fact,  that  London  alone  contributed  upwards  of  10,000/.     Morton,  the 
chancellor,  and  now  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  disgracefully  pleasant 
upon  the  occasion,  directing  the  commissioners  to  take  no  excuse  ;  if  men 
lived  handsomely  and  at  expense  it  was  only  fair  to  conclude  that  they 
must  be  wealthy,  and  if  they  lived  after  a  mean  and  miserable  f.ishion,  it 
was  equally  sure  that  their  means  must  be  hoarded !    The  dilemma  is  not 
always  a  figure  of  logic  even  for  a  chancellor ;  the  archbishop's  dilemma 
had  one  horn  very  faulty,  for  it  is  quite  certain  that  badness  of  trade  and 
oppressivenessof  taxation  might  make  many  a  man  live  meanly,  from 
sheer  necessity,  who,  nevertheless,  would  far  rather  have  furnished  his 
table  with  viands  than  his  strong  box  with  gold.     Havincr  raised  all  that 
he  could  by  way  of  benevolence,  that  is  to  say,  by  a  violence  expressly 
forbidden  by  a  law  made  even  during  the  reign  of  a  bad  king,  Henry  now 
proceeded  to  summon  his  parliament  together,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing 
how  much  more  money  could  bo  extracted  in  a  more  regular  way.     Still 
keeping  in  view  the  warlike  character  of  his  people,  and  their  recent  and 
deep  vexation  with  France,  Henry  now  appealed  to  the  national  feelings 
in  a  speech  to  parliament,  which  is  so  curious  a  specimen  of  the  art  of 
being  eloquently  insincere,  that  we  transcribe  Hume's  summary  of  the 


J 


«iM 


THE  TIIKASIJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


Bpeecli.  He  told  thoin  tliiil  '•  Franco,  <  Inled  with  lier  latn  succp!i8e«,  had 
even  proecfided  lo  a  contempt  to  Kngland,  and  had  refuBed  to  pay  th«t 
tribute  which  Louis  XI.  had  Htipulated  to  Kdward  IV.;  tJiat  *•  .x-came  80 
wariike  a  nation  an  the  Knjjllsh  lo  be  roused  by  this  indignity,  .md  not  to 
limit  thpir  pretensions  merely  to  repelling  the  present  injury.  That  for 
his  part,  he  was  determined  lo  lay  claim  to  the  crown  itself  of  France, 
and  to  maintain  by  force  of  arms  so  just  a  title  transmitted  to  him  Ity  his  gal- 
lant ancestors.  That  Cressy,  Poitiers,  and  Agincourt  were  sufficient  to  in. 
struct  them  in  (heir  superiority  over  the  enemy,  nor  did  ho  despair  of  ad 
ding  new  names  to  the  i^lorious  catalogue.  That  a  king  of  France  had 
been  prisoner  in  London,  and  a  king  of  England  had  been  crowned  in 
Paris;  events  which  should  animate  them  to  :iu  emulation  of  like  glory 
with  that  which  had  been  enjoyed  by  their  forelathers.  That  the  domes- 
tic  dissensions  of  Kngland  had  been  the  solo  cause  of  her  losing  these 
foreign  dominions,  and  that  her  present  internal  union  would  be  the  effec- 
tual means  of  recovering  them ;  that  where  such  lasting  honour  was  in 
view,  and  such  an  important  acquisition,  it  became  not  brave  men  to  re- 
pine at  the  advance  of  a  little  treasure;  and  that,  for  his  part,  he  was 
determined  to  make  the  w;ir  maintain  itself,  and  hoped  by  the  invasion  of 
so  opulent  a  kingdom  as  France,  to  increase  rather  than  to  diminish  the 
riches  of  the  nation." 

How  profoundly  Henry  seem?  to  have  known  human  nature!  How 
skilfully  does  he  appeal  lo  tiio  vanity,  the  fierceness,  the  high 
courage,  and  the  cupidity  so  inherent  in  man's  heart !  *'  Warlike  na- 
tion," "just  title,"  "  gallant  ancestors,"  "  Cressy,  Poitiers,  and  Agin- 
court," "  lasting  honour,"  and  "important  acquisition,"  how  admirably  are 
they  all  pressed  into  service,  in  the  precise  places  where  best  calculated  to 
act  at  once  upon  the  good  and  the  evil  feelings  of  those  whom  he  addres- 
ses !  And  then,  with  what  a  sublime  contempt  of  all  filthy  lucre  docs  he 
not  dehort  "  brave  men "  from  caring  about  "  the  advance  of  a  little 
treasure !" 

If  all  men  were  gifted  with  the  far  sight  of  La  Rochcfoucault  into  the 
human  heart,  perhaps  such  a  speech  as  this  of  Henry  would  defeat  itself 
by  the  very  excess  and  exquisitness  of  its  art.  But  all  men  are  not  so 
gifted,  and  never  was  man  better  aware  of  that  fact  than  Henry  was.  He 
knew  the  instruments  he  had  to  work  with,  and  ho  worked  accordingly. 
Though  there  were  many  circumstances  in  the  state  of  Europe  which 
ought  to  have  made  the  parliament  chary  of  advancing  hard  cash  for  a 
war  with  France;  though  that  country  was  strengthened  by  the  very  feu- 
dal fiefs  which  had  so  fatally  weakened  it  when  the  gallant  ancestors  of 
Henry  had  deeply  dyed  with  French  blood  those  fatal  fields,  to  which 
Henry  so  proudly  and  so  effectually  alluded ;  though  even  on  the  very 
edge  of  Engli«nd,  to  wit,  in  Scotland,  a  new  and  warlike  monarch,  James 
IV.  had  succeeded  to  the  indolent  James  HL  and  was  so  much  attached 
to  the  interests  of  France,  that  he  was  nearly  sure  to  evince  his  attach- 
ment by  making  war  on  England  whenever  Henry  should  lead  the  flower 
of  England's  forces  to  the  shores  of  France,  the  parliament  hailed  Henry's 
boastful  promises  with  delight.  Two  fifteenths  were  readily  voted  to 
him,  and  an  act  was  passed  to  enable  the  nobility  to  sell  their  estates ;  by 
which  Henry  accomplished  the  double  purpose  of  having  wealthy  volunteers 
defray  many  unavoidable  expenses,  and  of  greatly  diminishing  that  baro- 
nial power  which  even  yet  trod  closely  upon  the  kibes  of  English  royalty. 
A.  D.  1492. — As  Henry  had  anticipated,  many  powerful  nobles,  inflamed 
with  a  desire  of  making  in  France  rich  territorial  acquisitions,  such  as 
their  Norman  an-^estors  had  made  in  England,  availed  themselves  of  his 
politic  act,  and  sold  or  pawned  their  broad  lands  to  raise  troops  for  the  in- 
vasion of  the  Gallic  Dorado.  Sc  well,  in  short,  were  Henry's  well-feigned 
desires  seconded  that  on  the  6th  of  October  in  this  year,  he  was  enabled 


THK  TREABIJRY  OF  HI8TOHY 


m 


to  land  at  Cnlain,  with  a  splendidly  pqiiipprd  army  of  t\v«'nty-flvc  tliousand 
infantry  ami  sixteen  hundred  cavalry,  the  whole  commanded,  under  the 
king  himself,  by  the  earl  of  Oxford  and  the  duke  of  Hedford,  titid  olTlcered 
I)y  some  of  the  very  first  men  in  Kn((lnnd.  Many  a  hrisjht  vision  of 
avarice  and  of  nobler  ambition  was  dreamed  amoiij;  that  mi^rbty  hont ;  hut 
like  other  splendid  dreams,  they  were  as  fallacious  and  short  livj'd 
as  they  were  brilliant.  The  truth  is,  that,  nobly  as  the  kinjj  had  de. 
nouneed  wrath  to  France  and  promised  wealth  to  KiiKland,  he  had  frota 
the  very  first  not  the  slig;htC3t  intention  of  firing  a  gun  or  drawing  a 
sword.  His  object  was,  simply,  to  obtain  money  ;  the  only  sincere  part 
of  his  speech  was  that  in  which  he  professed  his  hop<!  of  makint^  the  war 
maintain  itstdf ;  and  he  so  managed  the  aflTair,  with  both  friend  and  foe,  that 
ho  really  did  make  the  war  not  only  pay  its  own  expenses,  but  contribute 
a  very  handsome  surplus  to  the  royal  treasury. 

It  was  whispered  among  shrewd  men,  that  October  was  a  singular  sea- 
son at  which  to  invade  France,  if  a  real  war  of  <-onquest  was  intended. 
Henry  heard  or  guessed  this  rumour,  and  he  hastened  to  contradict  it,  by 
professing  his  conviction  that  to  conquer  the  whole  of  Fr.ince  would  nit 
cost  him  a  whole  summer,  and  that  as  he  had  Calais  for  winter  quarters 
the  season  of  his  arrival  was  a  matter  of  perfect  indilTerencn. 

Yet  at  the  very  time  that  Henry  made  this  boast,  which  would  have 
been  marvellously  silly  and  vain-gloriouH  had  it  not  been  entirely  insincere, 
and  made  only  for  an  especial  and  temporary  purpose,  a  secret  correspoii 
dence  fof  a  peace  had  for  some  time  been  carried  on  by  Henry  and  the 
king  of  France.  The  landing  of  Henry  in  France,  with  a  numerous  and 
well-appointed  army,  had,  as  he  had  foreseen,  greatly  strengthened  the 
desire  for  peace  on  the  part  of  the  king  of  France,  and  commissioner* 
were  now  very  speedily  appointed  to  settle  tlie  terms. 

Any  other  man  but  Henry  would  have  been  much  puzzled  for  even 
plausible  reasons  by  which  to  account  to  his  subjects  for  so  early  and  sud- 
denly agreeing  to  treat  for  peace,  after  making  such  magnificent  promises 
of  a  war  of  actual  conquest;  promises,  too,  which  had  caused  so  many  of 
his  subjects  very  largely  to  invest  their  fortunes  in  his  service.  Hut  to 
Henry  this  was  no  difficult  matter.  He  had  represented  himself  as  sure 
of  large  aid  from  the  Low  Countries ;  he  now  caused  Maximilian,  king  of 
the  Romans,  to  send  to  inform  him  that  such  aid  could  not  then  be  fur- 
nished. Spain,  too,  was  at  war  with  France,  and  Spain  suddenly  received 
the  counties  of  Rousillon  and  Cordagne,  and  concluded  peace  with  France! 
These  alterations  in  the  state  of  affairs  would  naturally  suggest  some  al- 
teration in  the  proceedings  and  hopes  of  Henry!  He  gave  full  time  for 
the  circulation  of  the  news  through  his  camp,  and  then  he  caused  the  mar- 
quis of  Dorset,  and  numerous  other  nobles  in  his  confidence,  to  petition 
him  to  do  precisely  what  he  had  from  the  first  intended  to  do — to  make  a 
treaty  with  France!  Strangely  enough,  too,  they  were  made  to  alledge 
in  their  petition,  that  very  lateness  of  the  season  which  the  king  had  so 
recently  affected  to  be  entirely  without  importance,  and  the  difficulties 
attendant  upon  the  seige  of  Boulogne,  which  he  had  only  just  commenced, 
and  which  no  one  with  a  particle  of  common-sense  could  ever  have  sup- 
posed to  be  an  undertaking  without  its  difficulties !  Henry,  with  well- 
feigned  reluctance,  suffered  himself  to  be  persuaded ;  and  France  bought 
peace  by  the  payment  of  seven  hundred  and  forty-five  thousand  crowns 
down,  and  a  pension  of  twenty-five  thousand  crowns  yearly.  Well  indeed 
might  the  money-loving  Henry  consider,  now,  that  between  the  contribu- 
tions of  his  subjects  and  those  of  France,  the  war  had  indifferently  well 
maintained  itself. 

Scarcely  had  Henry  concluded  this  singularly  cool  and  as  singularly  suc- 
cessful endeavour  to  convert  a  glaring  political  blunder  into  a  means  of 


I 


I9S 


THK  TRKABUEY  OF"  HI8TOHY. 


raiaing  a  large  aum  of  money,  than  lie  waa  once  more  called  upon  to  de. 
fend  Ilia  lliroiio  ii((aiiiat  a  during  and  iinpudciit  nr<-ten<lur. 

The  duciiiNS  of  Uiirguiidy,  whoso  hatr«'d  «)|  H«'iiry  was  hy  no  mcana 
decreaH«;d  hy  iho  eaao  and  perfect  amu-css  wilh  which  ho  had  baffled  the 
designs  of  Siinnid,  once  more  endeavoured  to  disturb  Henry's  throne 
She  caused  it  to  be  given  out,  that  Richard,  the  young  duke  of  York,  es- 
caped from  the  Tower  when  his  young  brother  and  sovereign  was  mur- 
dered by  Jtichard,  duke  of  (Jlontcir,  who  afterwarda  usurped  the  throne. 
Improbable  as  it  was  that  the  younger  of  the  two  brothers  should  have 
escaped  from  the  monstrous  and  unsparing  murderer  of  the  elder,  the  tale 
was  eagerly  and  credulously  listened  to  by  the  people,  who  seem  to  have 
received  no  warning  from  tiie  former  impudent  imposture  of  Simnel. 
Perceiving  that  the  fund  of  public  credulity  was  far  from  being  exhausted, 
the  duchess  eagerly  looked  around  her  for  some  youth  qualified  to  sustain 
the  part  of  that  young  duke,  of  whose  approaching  re-appcarance  cmissa- 
rics  were  now  instructed  to  hold  out  expectations.  The  youth  she  desired 
soon  presented  himself  in  the  person  of  Perkin  Warbeck,  the  son  of  a 
christianized  Jew.  Young  Perkin  was  born  during^  the  reign  of  the  amor- 
ous monarch,  Edward  IV.,  who  was  a  frequent  visitor  to  the  house  of  the 
wealthy  Jew.  This  circumstance,  and  tlie  singular  likeness  of  young 
Perkin  to  the  king,  had  occasioned  not  a  little  scandalous  remark  as  to  the 
actual  parentage  of  the  boy.  The  youth,  who  had  removed  with  his  father 
to  Tournay,  the  native  country  of  the  latter,  was  subsequently  thrown 
upon  his  own  resources,  and  caused  by  the  change  of  fortune  to  visit  a 
variety  of  places  ;  and  travel  had  thus  added  its  benefits  to  those  of  nature 
and  the  advantages  of  a  good  education.  The  youth  was  naturally  very 
quick-wi  .ed  and  of  graceful  manners,  and  the  singular  likeness  he  bore  to 
Edward  IV.  was  thus  rendered  the  more  remarkable,  especially  when, 
having  been  introduced  to  the  duchess  of  Burgundy,  and  by  her  instructed 
in  the  part  it  was  desired  that  he  should  play,  he  designedly  made  the  ut> 
most  display  of  those  qualities  which  hitherto  he  had  enjoyed  almost  un- 
consciously. The  rapidity  and  completeness  with  which  he  mastered  all 
that  it  was  deemed  necessary  to  teach  him  delighted  the  duchess,  who, 
however,  in  order  to  give  time  to  the  reports  of  her  emissaries  to  spread 
among  the  populace  in  England,  sent  the  pseudo  duke  of  York  to  Portu- 
gal uiider  the  care  of  Lady  Brampton.  From  Portugal  he  was  recalled  on 
the  breaking  out  of  what  Henry  had  called  the  •'  war"  with  France ;  and, 
as  his  predecessor  in  imposture  had  formerly  been,  he  was  sent  to  make 
the  first  public  essay  of  his  powers  of  impudence  in  Ireland.  His  success 
there  was  sufficient  to  cause  a  great  interest  and  curiosity  not  only  in 
England  but  also  in  France,  to  which  country  he  was  invited  by  Charles 
VIII.,  who  received  him  with  all  the  honours  due  to  distressed  royalty, 
assigning  him  splendid  apartments,  and  giving  him  a  personal  guard  of 
honour,  of  which  the  lord  Congresal  was  made  the  captain. 

The  personal  resemblance  of  young  Warbeck  to  Edward  IV.,  his  grace- 
ful exterior  and  really  remarkable  accomplishments,  added  to  the  air  of 
entire  sincerity  which  Charles — with  the  politic  design  of  embarrassing 
Henry — affected  in  his  treatment  of  the  impostor  as  the  genuine  duke  of 
York,  rendered  the  imposition  so  far  successful,  that  upwards  of  a  hun- 
dred gentlemen,  some  of  them  (as  Sir  George  Nevil  and  Sir  John  Taylor), 
of  considerable  eminence,  actually  travelled  from  England  to  Paris  to  offer 
their  swords  and  purses  to  the  duke  of  York. 

In  the  midst  of  a  tide  of  good  success,  which  must  have  astonished 
himself  more  than  any  one  else,  Warbeck  met  with  an  unexpected  check 
in  consequence  of  the  peace  that  was  so  suddenly  concluded  between 
France  and  England.  Henry,  indeed,  on  this  occasion  tried  to  induce  the 
king  of  France  to  give  Warbeck  up  to  him  ;  but  Charles,  with  a  degree  of 
snirit  which  did  him  grea'  honour,  replied,  that  no  matter  what  was  the 


THR  TRKASIJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


49t 


rral  chiracter  nf  thn  yoiiiij{  hkih,  he  <»ii>{lit  to  go  frpt*  from  Fr.arp,  \o  which 
Cliarle»  li.id  himsflf  iiiviicd  hiin.  Wnrheck  ncconliiiuly,  U>  tin-  jjrr.il  vex- 
iitioii  ofliiH  frifMiilH,  was  (IminiHsvd  from  tlir  court  .iiul  Kingdom  ol  (/Imrlcti ; 
and  he  now  niadu  hiit  fir«t  public  n|t|)«':»ranc('  hrforc  the  duchcsi  of  Hur- 
ijundy,  whose  iii«lruction»  In;  had  hitherto  so  well  obeyed.  Willi  aKravity 
whicli  dnl  iiifinit«3  credit  to  her  taleiit.s  an  an  nctreH.>4,  the  duchesM,  alfeetin)} 
to  have  been  but  too  well  instructed  by  Simnel'H  afrnr  ever  to  give  credit 
ajrain  to  mere  piausibln  stories,  received  VVarheck  with  a  coolness  which 
would  speedily  have  terminated  his  suit  hud  he  b'-eti  oilier  than  an  im|)os- 
lor,  and  not  ({iiito  as  well  aware  as  the  duchess  licrs^elf  was  of  its  motive. 
Well  kno  viny  that  her  ultimate  countenance  of  his  pretensions  would  he 
valuable  precisely  in  proportion  to  her  seeming  unwillingness,  at  the  out- 
set, to  crant  it,  the  dutheas  publicly  anil  with  much  seemiiiff  severity  ques- 
lioned  Warbeck  upon  his  pretensions  to  the  title  of  Vork.  As  question 
after  question  was  answered  with  a  correctness  far  beyond  the  [lower  of 
any  mere  impostor — of  any  impostor  tinless  assisted,  as  Warl)eck  was, 
by  the  duchess  or  some  other  member  of  the  royal  family — the  duchess, 
by  admirably  rcfjulated  gradations,  passed  from  scornful  doubt  an  1  indig- 
nation to  wonder,  and  from  wonder  to  conviction  and  a  rapture  of  delight, 
as,  all  her  doubts  retiioved,  she  embraced  bin  as  the  marvellously  pre- 
served son  of  Edward,  the  true  scion  of  the  I'lantagiMiets,  tb?  only  right- 
ful heir  to  the  throne  of  England,  her  own  long  lost  and  miraculously  re- 
stored nephew  !  The  scene,  in  short,  was  excellently  jterfoii'ied,  and  was 
as  pathetic  to  those  who  were  not  in  the  secret,  ;'m  it  assuf'dly  must  have 
been  wearisome  to  those  who  were. 

The  duchess  of  Burgundy,  haviiijj  thus  with  difTieulty  and  rehu  ice 
galisfied  herself  of  the  truth  of  \wv  soi  ditant  nephew's  prcteiiF  i-,  as- 
.sif!;ned  him  a  guard  of  honour,  and  not  only  intimated  her  desire  that  he 
should  be  treated  with  the  utmost  respect  by  all  her  con.  ,  '  a  Ik  iself  set 
the  example,  never  mentioning  him  but  with  the  honouiibn  and  endear- 
ing title  of  the  white  rose  of  Entrland. 

A.  D.  1493. — The  English  of  high  rank  were  not  behind  the  Flemish 
populace  in  giving  credence  to  Warbeck's  pretensions.  Men  easily  be- 
lieve that  which  they  have  learned  to  desire;  and  the  firm  rule  of  Henry, 
and  the  great  and  obvious  pains  he  took  to  depress  the  nobility,  and  to 
elevate,  at  their  expense,  the  middle  and  trading  classes,  disposed  very 
many  men  of  power  and  consequence  to  assist  Warbeck  in  the  struggle 
he  meditated  for  the  English  throne.  Even  Sir  William  Stanley  who  had 
done  so  much  to  secure  Henry's  elevation,  now  began  to  look  with 
complacency  upon  his  possible  dethronement  by  tlu  pseudo  duke  of  York  • 
and  Sir  Robert  Clifford  actually  went  to  Flanders  to  join  the  pretender, 
anil  wrote  thence  that  he  could  personally  vouch  that  the  youth  in  ques- 
tion was  really  that  Richard,  duke  of  York,  who  had  so  long  been  sup- 
posed to  have  been  murdered  by  his  uncle,  the  late  king.  The  high  rank 
and  respectable  character  of  Clifford  m;.  \-:-  this  assurance  of  his  exten- 
sively and  mischievously  influential;  can  ir  .  many,  who  would  have  dis- 
dained to  assaH,  Henry's  throne  for  the  sake  of  an  impostor,  to  join  in  the 
wide-spreading  conspiracy  in  favour  of  the  supposed  duke  of  York. 

In  these  circumstances  the  king's  beat  safeguard  was  his  own  politic 
and  vigilant  temper.  Well  served  b}  his  numerous  spies,  both  in  Englanc 
ai;d  on  the  continent,  he  was  thoroughly  informed  of  every  important  stej 
that  v/as  taken  by  his  enemies.  Being  morally  certain  that  the  duke  ol 
York  hud  been  murdered  by  the  late  king,  he  took  the  necessary  steps  for 
making  that  fact  appear  from  the  statement  of  those  who  were  still  living 
who  had  personal  cognizance  of  it.  These  persons  were  two  in  number  ; 
Sir  James  Tyrrel,  who  had  superintended  the  murder  and  seen  the  dead 
bodies  of  the  murdered  youths,  and  Dighlon,  who  had  been  one  of  the 
actual  murderers ;  both  of  whom  stated  the  murder  to  have  been  com- 


430 


THE  TKEASIJEY  OP  HISTORY. 


mitted  on  both  the  princes ;  and  their  separate  statements  agreed  with  Iho 
utmost  accuracy  in  every  particular. 

The  next  point  that  Henry  was  anxious  to  clear  up,  was  the  identity  ot 
the  pretended  duke  of  York.  Tiiat  he  was  an  impostor  was  beyond  all 
doubt ;  but  it  was  very  important  that  Henry  should  be  able  to  say,  not 
only  who  he  was  not,  but  who  he  was  and  whence  he  had  sprung,  to  aim, 
by  a  daring  imposture,  at  the  English  throne.  With  this  view  he  sent 
spies  into  Flanders,  and  instructed  some  of  them  to  pretend  the  utmost 
zeal  against  him,  and  to  join  the  opposite  party.  By  this  plan  he  became 
aware  of  the  number  and  rank  of  Warbeck's  adherents  ;  and  upon  these 
jicw  spies  were  set,  until  Henry,  by  slow  degrees,  and  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  men  against  whom  he  feigned  the  most  ungovernable  indlg. 
nation,  possessed  himself  of  every  passage  in  ihe  history  of  young  War- 
beck  from  his  very  childhood.  The  tidings  thus  obtained  Henry  took 
great  pains  to  circulate  throughout  England ;  and  the  clearness  with  which 
every  step  in  the  impostor's  career  was  traced  greatly  tended  to  diminish 
the  popularity  of  his  cause,  and  to  weaken  the  zeal  of  his  partizans,  upon 
whom  Henry  determined  to  take  ample  vengeance  at  his  own  leisure  and 
convenience. 

A.  D.  1494. — Having  taken  all  pru.lent  measures  for  disabusing  the 
minds  of  his  own  subjects  as  to  the  ical  history  of  the  pretended  duke  of 
York,  Henry  made  a  formal  complaint  to  the  archduke  Philip  of  the  en- 
couragement and  shelter  which  so  notorious  an  impostor  as  Warbeck  had 
met  with  in  Flanders;  and  as  Philip,  at  the  instigation  of  the  duchess 
dowager  of  Burgundy,  coldly  replied  that  he  had  no  authority  over  the 
demesne  of  that  princess,  Henry  banished  all  Flemings  from  England,  and 
recalled  all  his  own  subjects  from  the  Low  Countries;  feeling  satisfied 
that  the  injury  thus  done  to  the  trade  of  so  commercial  a  people  as  the 
Flemings,  would  soon  urge  them  into  such  revolt  as  would  abundantly 
revenge  him  upon  their  sovereign. 

In  the  meantime  Henry  suddenly  and  simultaneously  seized  upon  those 
of  his  own  subjects  who  had  been  the  most  zealous  in  conspiring  against 
him,  and  some  were  speedily  tried  and  executed.  Others,  among  whom 
was  William  Worsely,  the  dean  of  St.  Paul's,  escaped  with  short  impris- 
onment. But  a  more  important  victim  was  yet  to  be  sacrificed.  Stanley 
the  lord  chamberlain,  was  accused  by  Clifford,  who  was  directed  to  come 
to  England,  kneel  to  the  king  for  pardon,  and  accuse  Stanley.  The  im- 
mense wealth  of  the  latter,  who  had  forty  thousand  marks  in  ready  money 
and  valuables,  and  a  yearly  revenue  of  three  thousand  pounds,  by  no 
means  tended  to  diminish  the  king's  desire  to  convict  liisn.  But  Henry 
feigned  the  utmost  astonishment  and  incredulity,  expatiated  upon  the  very 
great  improbability  that  Stanley,  connected  with  Henry  and  holding  the 
important  office  ol  chamberlain,  should  be  guilty  of  treason,  and  even  sol- 
emnly exhorted  Clifford  to  beware  that  he  did  not  wrongfully  accuse  an 
innocent  man.  Clifford,  in  spite  of  all  this  pretended  anxiety  on  the  part 
of  the  king,  persisted  in  his  statements  of  Stanley's  guilt,  and  the  accuspi 
was  confronted  with  him.  Either  from  a  high  sense  of  honour  which 
deemed  every  suffering  and  danger  preferable  to  the  baseness  of  falsehood, 
or  from  a  weak  notion  that  his  great  services  to  the  king  in  former  dayi 
would  prove  his  safeguard  now,  Stanley  did  not  affect  to  deny  his  guilt. 
A.  D.  1495. — Even  now,  though  Henry  could  not  have  a  doubt  of  Stan- 
ley's guilt,  and  was  fully  resolved  not  to  spare  him,  six  weeks  were  suf- 
fered to  elapse  before  the  prisoner  was  brought  to  trial ;  a  delay  by  which 
it  probably  was  intended  to  give  the  public  a  notion,  that  the  king  was 
unwilling  to  proceed  to  extremities  against  a  man  who  had  formerly  been 
so  serviceable  to  him.  At  length  he  was  tried,  and  the  part  of  his  conduct 
which  gave  the  most  offence  was  his  having  said  to  Clifford,  that  if  !,;• 
were  quite  sure  that  the  young  man  who  claimed  to  be  the  duke  of  York 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


431 


really  was  so,  he  never  would  bear  arms  against  him.  This  speech,  as  show- 
ing a  preference  to  the  house  of  York,  was  far  more  unpardonable,  in  the 
judgment  of  Henry,  than  the  offence  of  siding  with  a  mere  nameless  pre- 
tender, and  probably  was  more  conclusive  against  Stanley  than  tlio  actual 
assistance  which  he  gave  to  Warbeck  in  the  way  of  money  and  advice. 
As  he  did  not  even  attempt  to  show  himself  innocent,  a  verdict  was  of 
course  returned  against  him ;  and  the  king,  who  previous  to  the  trial  had 
pretended  so  much  reluctance  to  believe  aught  against  him,  did  not  allow 
much  time  to  elapse  between  the  sentence  and  execution,  being  chieily 
influenced,  it  would  seem,  by  the  large  forfeiture  which  accrued  to  the 
crown. 

The  execution  of  Stanley,  high  in  rank,  holding  an  important  offic.^.  and 
having  until  so  late  a  date  enjoyed  so  large  a  share  of  the  king's  f;iv  ".'ir 
and  confidence,  naturally  struck  terror  into  the  confederates  of  Warbec, 
as  Henry  intended  that  it  should.  And  not  only  did  this  expectation  warn 
them  that  mercy  was  out  of  the  question,  should  any  be  convicted,  but 
the  mere  appearance  of  Clifford  as  the  king's  informer  was  well  calculated 
to  strike  terror  into  the  guilty,  who  must  now  be  aware  that  they  had 
no  longer  any  secrets  from  the  cold-blooded  and  resolved  king,  against 
whom  they  had  plotted  so  much  mischief.  Each  of  the  conspirators  now 
learned  to  look  with  dread  and  suspicion  upon  his  neighbour.  Many  were 
thus  impelled  into  withdrawing  from  the  support  of  the  pretender  while 
they  still  had  an  opportunity  to  do  so  ;  and  though  rumors  and  libels  still 
continued  to  dismay  the  king,  a  very  general  and  wholesome  opinion  was 
formed  of  the  great  extent  of  tli  king's  secret  information,  and  of  his 
resolute  determination  to  crush  the  guilty. 

Even  while  punishing  conspirators,  the  king  seemed  far  more  bent  upon 
increasing  his  wealth,  by  whatever  arts  and  schemes  of  extortion,  than 
flpon  conciliating  the  affections  of  his  people,  and  thus  arraying  them  in 
iefence  of  his  throne  against  the  arts  and  efforts  of  open  pretenders  or 
secret  conspirators.  His  extortions  were  perpetual,  shameless,  and  mer- 
ciless ;  the  very  laws  which  ought  to  have  been  the  safeguard  of  the  peo- 
jje,  were  made  the  means  of  extorting  money  from  the  wealthy.  Sir 
William  Capel,  a  London  alderman,  had  information  laid  against  him 
which  involved  him  in  penalties  to  the  enormous  amount  of  two  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  forty-three  pounds,  and  he  actually  had  to  pay  near 
two  thousand  by  way  of  compromise.  The  lawyers  were  encouraged  to 
lay  informations  against  wealthy  men,  and  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  the 
parties  seems  to  have  been  far  less  considered  than  their  willingness  and 
ability  to  enrich  the  king,  by  compounding  with  him  for  their  offences,  real 
or  imaginary.  Aided  by  his  financial  agents,  Empson  and  Diulley,  to 
wliose  unscrupulous  misconduct  we  shall  by  and  by  have  to  recur,  Henry 
in  this  way  fleeced  the  great  and  the  wealthy  of  enormous  sums,  and  thus 
forwarded  his  double  design  of  depressing  the  somewhat  dangerous  power 
of  the  great,  and  of  increasing  his  own  vast  treasure. 

Though  the  king  oppressed  the  wealthy  beyond  measure,  the  main  body 
of  the  people  had  but  little  cause  to  complain  of  him,  for  it  might  most 
truly  be  said  of  him  that  he  would  allow  no  oppressor  in  his  kingdom 
except  himself.  In  spite,  therefore,  of  numerous  acts  of  particular  op- 
pression, the  king's  authority  was  daily  more  and  more  respected  by  the 
people  at  large  ;  and  Warbeck,  fearing  that  a  longer  delay  would  but  in- 
crease the  difficulties  of  his  design,  at  length  determined  to  make  adescent 
upon  England.  Having  collected  an  army  of  somewhat  less  than  a  thou- 
sand men.  consisting  chieHy  of  men  equally  bankrupt  in  character  and  in 
means,  Warbeck  took  advantage  of  the  absence  of  the  king,  who  was 
making  a  state  progress  through  the  north  of  England,  and  made  his  ap- 
pearance off  the  coast  of  Kent.  But  the  care  with  which  the  king  had 
fixposed  the  real  character  and  connections  of  Warbeck,  and  the  sad  fate 


43-2 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


of  Sir  William  Stanley,  caused  the  Kentish  gentry  to  be  on  the  alert,  not 
to  join  the  impostor,  but  to  oppose  him.     Wishing,  however,  to  make  him 
prisoner,  they  told  the  messenger  whom  he  sent  ashore  that  they  were 
aetua.ly  in  arms  for  him,  and  invited  him  to  land  and  place  himself  at 
their  head.     Warbeck  was  too  suspicious  to  fall  into  the  snare ;  and  the 
Kentish  men  finding  that  they  could  not  induce  him  to  trust  himself  ashore, 
fell  upon  those  of  his  retainers  who  had  landed,  and  took  a  hundred  anc* 
fifty  prisoners,  besides  putting  a  considerable  number  to  death.     This  ac 
tion  drove  Warbeck  from  the  coast ;  and  the  king,  who  was  thoroughh 
determined  to  put  down  the  revolt  with  a  strong  and  unsparing  hand,  or 
dcred  the  liundred  and  fifty  prisoners  to  be  put  to  death,  without  an  ex 
ception ! 

A  singular  and  very  important  law  was  just  now  enacted,  by  which  it 
was  provided  that  no  man  should  be  attainted  for  aiding  the  king  de  facto, 
whether  by  arms  or  otherwise.  Henry  probably  instituted  this  law  for  the 
purpose  of  giving  increased  confidence  and  zeal  to  his  own  partizans,  by 
making  it  impossible  that  even  his  fall  could  involve  tliem  in  ruin.  As  the 
first  and  most  important  end  of  all  laws  is  to  secure  the  peace  of  the  com- 
munity, and  as  the  defenders  of  the  de  facto  king  are  usually  such  by  their 
attachment  to  public  order,  the  law  was  a  very  proper  one  in  spirit ;  but  it 
was  one  whicii  in  the  case  of  any  violent  revolution  was  but  little  likely 
to  be  respected  in  practice,  especially  as  nothing  could  be  easier  than  for 
the  dominant  party  to  cause  it  to  be  repealed. 

Of  the  invasion  of  Italy  by  France,  and  the  league  formed  to  check  the 
French  king's  ambitious  schemes,  we  need  only  barely  make  mention  here ; 
for  though  Henry  was  a  member  of  that  league,  he  was  a  mere  honorary 
member  of  it,  neither  the  expenses  nor  the  trouble  of  warfare  on  so  dis- 
tant  a  scene  suiting  with  his  peace-loving  and  rigidly  economical  temper 


CHAPTER  XXXVHI. 

THE   REIGN  OF   HENRY   VII.    {coticluded.) 

A.  D.  1495. — Warbeck,  on  perceiving  the  treatment  that  was  bestowed 
by  the  Kentish  people  upon  those  of  his  adherents  who  had  been  so  unfor- 
tunate as  to  land,  sincerely  congratulated  himself  upon  the  suspicion 
which  had  arisen  in  his  mind  at  the  regular  a  k!  disciplined  appearance  oi 
the  men  who  pretended  to  be  newly  levied,  ana  with  an  especial  view  to 
his  service.  He  had,  however,  gone  too  far  to  recede,  and  was,  besides, 
without  the  funds  necessary  to  support  his  numerous  followers  in  idleness. 
Ireland  had  ever  been  ready  to  war  against  the  king  of  England  on  any  or 
on  no  pretext,  and  to  Ireland  he  accordinn^ly  steered  his  course.  But,  as 
we  have  more  particularly  mentioned  under  the  history  of  that  country 
Poyning's  law  and  other  good  measures  had  so  far  strengthened  the  royal 
authority,  that  even  in  the  usually  turbulent  Ireland  the  adventurer  could 
obtain  no  support.  Certain  hospitalities,  indeed,  he  experienced  at  the 
hands  of  some  of  the  chieftains,  but  their  coarse  fare  and  rude  habits  were 
but  littlr  to  his  taste,  and  he  left  them  to  try  his  fortune  in  Scotland.  The 
king  of  France,  in  revenge  for  the  junction  of  Henry  with  the  other  op- 
ponents of  the  ambitious  schemes  of  France,  and  the  king  of  the  Romans, 
m  revenge  for  Henry's  prohibition  of  all  commerce  with  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, secretly  furnished  Warbeck  with  strong  recomiiiendations  to  the 
king  of  Scotland,  .Tames  IV.  That  chivalric  prince  seems  at  first  to  have 
suspected  the  truth  of  Warbock's  story;  for  while  he  received  him  other- 
wifle  kindly,  he  somewhat  pointedly  told  him  that  be  whoever  or  whatever 
he  might  he  should  never  repent  having  trusted  to  a  king  of  Scotland,  a 
remark  which  he  would  scarcely  have  made  had  he  felt  any  confidence 


THK  raBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


4:^3 


mat  he  was  really  the  duke  of  York.  But  the  king's  suspicions  did  nut 
long  held  out  against  the  fascinating  manners  and  numerous  iircomplinh- 
menla  of  the  young  adventurer.  So  completely  did  James  become  the 
dupe,  and  so  far  was  that  kind-hearted  monarch  interested  in  the  welfare 
of  the  young  impostor  who  practised  upon  his  credulity,  that  he  actually 
gave  him  in  marriage  the  lady  Catherine  Gordon,  daughter  of  tiie  earl  of 
Huntley,  and  not  very  distantly  related  to  the  king  himself. 

A,  D.  1496. — That  James  of  Scotland  really  did  give  credence  to  the  ela- 
borate falsehoods  which  were  told  him  by  young  Warbeck  seems  certni.i, 
or  h,"  would  scarcely  have  given  him,  in  marriage,  a  young^nd  beauiil'ul 
lady  of  a  noble  family  and  even  related  to  the  crown.  But  policy  had, 
probably,  still  more  to  do  in  producing  James'  kindness  to  the  adventurer, 
than  any  considerations  of  a  merely  humane  and  personal  nature.  Injury 
to  England,  at  any  rate  and  under  any  circiniislances,  seems  to  have  been 
the  invariable  maxim  of  the  Scottish  kings  and  of  the  Scottish  people  ;  and 
James,  deeming  it  probable  that  the  people  of  the  nortliern  counties  of 
England  would  rise  in  favour  of  Warbeek,  led  him  ihither  at  the  head  of  a 
strong  and  well  appointed  army.  As  soon  as  they  had  crossed  the  border, 
Warbeck  issued  a  proclamation  in  which  he  formally  staled  himself  to  be 
that  duke  of  York  who  had  so  long  been  supposed  dead,  claimed  to  be  the 
rightful  sovereign  of  Kngland,  and  called  upon  all  his  good  and  loyal  sub- 
jects to  rise  and  aid  him  in  expelling  the  usurper  who  laid  heavy  burdens 
upon  them,  and  whose  oppressions  of  men  of  all  ranks,  and  especially  his 
studied  degradation  of  the  nobility,  had,  said  the  proclamation,  justly 
caused  him  to  be  odious  to  all  men.  But  besides  that  the  men  of  the  north 
of  England  were  but  little  likely  to  look  upon  a  Scottish  army  as  a  re- 
commendation of  the  new  comer,  there  were  two  circumstances  which 
prevented  tiiis  proclamation  from  being  much  attended  to  ;  every  day  taught 
men  to  look  with  increased  dread  upon  the  calm,  unsparing  and  unlaltering 
temper  of  the  king ;  and  Warbeck's  Scottish  friends,  by  their  taste  for 
plunder,  made  it  soniewhat  more  than  difficult  for  the  English  borderers 
to  look  upon  them  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  plundering  foemen. 
Warbeck  was  consttious  how  greatly  this  practi(;e  of  the  Scots  tended  to 
injure  his  cause  among  the  English,  and  he  remonstrated  with  James  upon 
the  subject.  But  James,  who  now  clearly  saw  the  little  chance  tliere  was 
of  any  rising  in  favour  of  Warbeck,  plainly  told  him  that  all  his  sympathy 
was  thrown  away  upon  enemies,  and  all  his  anxiety  for  the  preservation 
of  the  country  equally  wasted,  inasmuch  as  it  seemed  but  too  certain  that 
that  country  would  never  own  his  sway.  In  fact,  but  for  their  plundering, 
the  Scots  would  literally  have  crossed  the  border  to  no  earthly  purpose, 
scarcely  an  Englishman  being  by  their  coming  induced  to  join  the  stand 
ard  of  Warbeck.  Henry  was  so  confident  that  the  marauding  propensi 
ties  of  the  Scots  would  make  Warbeck's  cause  unpopular  in  the  northern 
counties  rather  than  the  contrary,  that  he  was  by  no  means  sorry  for  the 
Scottish  irruption.  Nevertheless,  true  to  his  constant  maxim  of  making 
a  profit  of  everything,  he  affected  to  be  very  indignant  at  this  violation  of 
his  territory,  and  he  summoned  a  parliament  to  listen  to  his  complaints 
on  this  head,  and  to  aid  him  in  obtaining  redress  for  so  great  and  atTront- 
iiig  an  injury.  The  pathetic  style  in  which  Henry  so  well  knew  how  to 
couch  his  complaints,  so  far  prevailed  with  the  parliament  as  to  induce 
ihein  to  vote  him  a  subsidy  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  pounds,  and 
they  were  then  dismissed. 

A.  D.  1497. — The  people,  always  shrewd  judges  of  character,  had  by  this 
time  learned  to  understand  that  of  Henry.  Comparir.g  the  frequency  and 
the  largeness  of  the  grants  made  to  him  by  the  parliament  with  his  own 
regal  economy  and  personal  stinginess,  they  easily  calculated  that  he  had 
by  him  a  treasure  of  sufficient  extent  to  spare  his  subjects  this  new  impo- 
>  ition.  It  followed  that,  though  the  parliament  had  so  willingly  grunted 
Vol..  I.— 28 


■-■i 


434 


THK  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


the  subsidy  in  the  mass,  the  people  were  by  no  means  so  willing  to  pay 
it  to  llic  tax  collectors  in  detail.    This  was  more  especially  the  case  in 
Cornwall.    Far  removed  from  any  inroads  of  the  Scots,  the  people  of  that 
part  could  not  or  would  not  understand  why  they  should  be  taxed  to  repel 
an  enemy  whom  they  had  never  seen.     The  popular  discontent  in  Corn- 
wall was  still  fi  ither  increased  by  two  demagogues,  Joseph  and  Flam- 
mock.     The  latter  especially,  who  was  a  lawyer,  was  much  trusted  by  the 
populace,  whom  he  assured  that  the  tax  laid  upon  them  on  this  occa- 
sion was  wJiplly  illegal,  inasmuch  as  the  nobility  of  the  northern  counties 
held  their  lands  on  the  express  condition  of  defending  them  against  all 
inroads  of  the  !?■ .  ts ;  and  that  it  behoved  the  people  promptly  and  firmly, 
but  peaceably,  to  petition  against  the  system  under   which  their  burdens 
bade  fair  to  be(  inio  quite  intolerable.     It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  in- 
quire  how  far  the  demagogues  were  sincere  in  their  exhortations  to 
peaceable  agit;*  ion ;  the  event  showed  how  much  easier  it  is  to  set  a  mul- 
titude in  motion  than  to  control  it  afterwards.    The  country  people  hav- 
ing their  own  opinions  of  the  illegality  and  injustice  of  the  tax  confirmed 
by  men  of  whose  talents  and  information  they  had  a  very  high  opinion, 
gathered  together  in  great  numbers,  most  of  them  being  armed  with  the 
implements  of  their  rural  labour.    This  numerous  and  tumultuous  gather- 
ing chose  Flammock  and  Joseph  for  their  leaders,  and  passing  from  Corn- 
wall through  Devonshire,  they  reached  Taunton,  in  Somersetshire,  where 
they  killed  one  of  the  collectors  of  the  subsidy,  whose  activity  and,  per- 
haps, severity  had  given  them  much  offence.    From  Taunton  they  marched 
to  Wells,  in  the  same  county,  where  tliey  got  a  distinguished  leader  in  the 
person  of  the  lord  Audley,  a  nobleman  of  ancient  family,  but  very  prone 
to  popularity-hunting.    Headed  by  this  silly  nobleman,  tlio  rebels  marched 
towards  London,  breathing  vengeance  against  the  principal  niinisters  of 
the  king,  though  upon  the  whole  tolerably  innocent  of  actual  wrong  or  vi- 
olence  during  the  latter  part  of  their  march.     Though  the  Kentish-men 
had  so  lately  shown  by  the  course  they  had  adopted  towards  Warbeck 
how  little  they  were  inclined  to  involve  themselves  in  a  quarrel  with  the 
king,  Flammock  had  persuaded  the  rebels  that  they  were  sure  to  be  joined 
by  the  Kentish  people,  because  these  latter  had  ever  maintained  their  lib 
erty  even  against  the  Norman  invaders.    The  mm  sequitur  was  either  not 
perceived  by  the  multitude  or  not  considered  of  much  importance,  for  into 
Kent  they  marched  in  pursuance  of  Flammock's  advice,  and  took  up  their 
position  on  a  hill  at  Eltham,  a  very  few  miles  from  London.     So  far  was 
the  advice  of  Flammock  from  being  well  founded,  that  there  probably  was 
not  at  that  moment  a  single  spot  in  the  ,vhole  kingdom  where  the  rebels 
were  less  likely  to  meet  with  support  than  in  Kent.    Everywhere  through- 
out the  kingdom  there  was  considerable  discontent  arising  out  of  the  ex- 
tortionate measures  of  the  king,  but  everywhere  there  was  also  a  great 
respect  for  the  king's  power,  to   which  was  added  in  Kent  considerable 
kindly  feeling  springing  out  of  the  favour  and  consideration  with  which 
he  had  acknowledged  the  service  done  to  him  when  Warbeck  appeared 
off  the  coast.  .Of  this  feeling  the  earl  of  Kent,  Lord  Abergavenny,  and 
Lord  Cobham  so  well  availed  themselves,  that,  though  the  rebels  made 
every  peaceful  endeavour  to  recruit  their  ranks,  none  of  the  Kentish  men 
would  join  them. 

On  this,  as  indeed  on  all  other  emergencies,  Henry  showed  himself  equal 
to  the  occasion.  He  detached  the  earl  of  Surrey  to  hold  in  check  or  beat 
back  the  Scots ;  and  having  posted  himself  in  St.  George's  fields  at  the 
head  of  one  body  of  troops,  he  despatched  the  earls  of  Oxford,  Suffolk,  and 
Essex,  at  the  head  of  another,  to  take  the  rebels  in  the  rear ;  while  a  third 
under  Lord  Daubeny  charged  them  in  front.  The  more  completely  to 
take  the  rebels  by  surpri^ie,  Henry  had  carefully  spread  a  report  thai  he 
shoHld  not  attack  them  for  several  days ;  nor  did  he  give  the  word  to  D^ik- 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


435 


bnny*s  division  to  advance  until  so  late  an  hour  in  the  day  that  the  rebels 
could  have  no  idea  of  being  attacked.  They  had  a  small  advance  at  Dept- 
rord  bridge,  which  Daubcny  easily  put  to  flight,  and  pursued  them  so 
closely  that  he  charged  upon  their  main  body  at  the  same  lime  that  they  re- 
joined it.  Daubeny  charged  the  rebels  gallantly,  but  allowed  his  contempt 
of  their  want  or  discipline  to  cause  him  to  undervalue  their  number,  in 
which  respect  they  were  far  from  despicable,  being  above  sixteen  thous- 
and. The  rash  gallantry  of  Daubeny  actually  caused  him  to  be  for  a  few 
moments  taken  prisoner,  but  he  was  speedily  rescued  by  his  troops,  whose 
discipline  soon  prevailed  over  the  raw  numbv.rs  of  the  rebels,  and  the  lat- 
ter were  put  to  flight  with  the  loss  of  two  thousand  killed,  and  many 
thousands  prisoners;  the  first  division  of  the  king's  troops  having  aided 
Daubeny  so  that  the  rebels  were  completely  surrounded,  but  a  compara- 
tively small  number  of  them  succeeded  in  cutting  their  way  through. 

Among  the  numerous  prisoners,  were  the  lord  Audley,  Flammock,  and 
Joseph,  all  of  whom  the  king  sent  to  immediate  execution.  Joseph  actu- 
ally exulted  in  his  fate,  which,  he  said,  would  insure  him  a  place  in  the 
history  of  his  country.  To  the  other  prisoners  the  king  gave  their  liber- 
ty ;  partly,  perhaps,  because  he  deemed  them  to  have  been  mere  dupes  in 
the  hands  of  their  leaders,  and  partly  because,  however  much  they  had 
exclaimed  against  the  oppressions  of  his  ministers,  they  had  in  nowise 
throughout  the  whole  revolt  called  in  question  his  title,  or  showed  any  dis- 
position lo  mix  up  with  their  own  causes  of  complaint  the  pretensions  of 
the  pseudo  duke  of  York.  Lord  Surrey  and  the  king:  of  Scotland,  mean- 
while, had  made  some  few  and  inefficient  demonstrations  which  led  to  no 
important  result,  and  Henry  took  an  early  opportunity  to  get  Hialas,  the 
Spanish  ambassador,  to  propose  himself— as  if  without  the  knowledge  of 
Hriir"— to  mediate  between  the  two  kings.  When  Hialas  was  agreed 
to  as  mediator,  the  first  and  most  important  demand  of  Henry  was  that 
Warbeck  should  be  delivered  up  to  him,  a  demand  to  which,  to  his  eternal 
honour,  James  IV.  replied  that  he  could  not  pretend  to  decide  upon  the 
young  man's  pretensions  ;  but  that  having  received  him  and  promised  him 
his  protection,  no  imaginable  consideration  should  ever  induce  him  to  be- 
tray him.  Subsequently  a  truce  of  a  few  months  having  been  agreed  to 
between  England  and  Scotland,  James  privately  begged  Warbeck  to  seek 
some  safe  asylum,  as  it  was  very  evident  that  while  he  remained  in  Scot- 
land Henry  would  never  allow  that  country  to  have  any  permanent  peace. 
The  measures  of  Henry,  meantime,  as  regarded  the  Flemings  had  pro- 
duced exactly  the  result  which  he  expected  from  them ;  the  Flemish  mer- 
chants and  artificers  had  suffered  so  much  from  his  system  of  non-inter- 
rourse,  that  they  had  in  a  manner  forced  their  archduke  to  make  a  treaty 
by  which  all  English  rebels  were  excluded  from  the  Low  Countries,  and 
the  demesnes  of  the  dowager  duchess  of  Burgundy  were  especially  and 
pointedly  included  in  this  treaty.  Warbeck,  therefoi-e,  on  being  requested 
10  leave  Scotland,  found  himself  by  this  treaty  completely  shut  out  of  the 
Low  Countries,  too,  and  he  was  fain  once  more  to  take  refuge  among  the 
bogs  and  mountains  of  Ireland. 

Even  here,  such  were  the  known  vigilance,  art,  and  power  of  Henry, 
the  unfortunate  impostor  did  not  feel  himself  secure.  His  fear  on  that 
head,  and  his  dislike  of  the  rude  ways  and  scanty  fare  of  his  entertainers, 
induced  him  to  follow  thr.  pdvi^e  of  three  needy  and  desperate  adherents, 
Astley,  Heme,  and  Skelton  ;  and  he  landed  ir  Cornwall,  where  he  endea- 
voured to  profit  by  the  still  prevalent  disposition  to  discontent  and  riot 
in  that  neighbourhood  of  hardy,  turbulent,  and  ignorhnt  men.  On  his 
lai'ding  at  Bodmin,  Warbeck  was  joined  by  upwards  oi  thr<;e  thousand 
men;  and  so  much  was  he  encouraged  by  even  this  equivocal  appearance 
iif  popularity,  that  he  now,  for  the  first  time,  assumed  the  title  of  king  of 
England  by  the  name  of  Richard  IV.    He  next  marched  his  courageous 


i^i^^-' 


496 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


but  wholly  undisciplined  men  lo  Exeter,  where  the  inhabitants  wisely,  as 
well  as  loyally,  sh.U  theirgates  against  him,  dispatched  messengers  to  ihe 
ki)ig,  and  made  all  preparations  for  sustaining  such  a  siege  as  Warbtek, 
destitute  of  artilleiy  and  even  of  ammunition,  might  be  expected  to  carry 
on  against  them. 

Henry  rejoiced  to  hear  that  the  pretender  who  had  so  long  eluded  and 
amaT^od  him,  had,  at  length,  resolved  to  take  the  fieM.  T'lt;  lor.is  Daube- 
ny  and  Broke,  with  the  earl  of  Devonshire,  the  duke  of  Huckint;!;  im,  pnd 
many  other  consuhrable  nobles,  hastily  raised  tn cps  an  i  marcht  U  against 
the  rebels;  the  kitijj,  at  the  same  time,  actively  iic'pariiij»  to  follow  with 
a  numerorts  army. 

Warbeck  had  shown  himself  unft-  forru'e,  by  tht-  mere  elation  if  sjiini 
into  wliich  he  was  betrayed  by  the  adhehiun  of  tlui  o  thoasanc'  i.i-ar!j>ii,i 
and  undisciplined  mt-n ;  he  now  sliowed  liiioseif  still  further  unfit  by  tiuer 
want  of  that  despenio  courage  which,  if  it  uUcm  beti  i-ya  its  possessor  into 
sitUH lions  of  peril,  no  lois  frequentiv  enables  iiiui,  as  if  by  miracle,  lo  ex- 
tricate himself  with  ari-  antage  cwn  where  his  ruin  appears  inevitable. 
The  zeal  of  the  king's  friends  wa«  so  Hir  from  destroying  the  ho'cs  o. 
Warbeck's  supporters,  that  in  a  very  fev  d;iys  Uieir  numbi,-r  iu'-ieased 
from  thfce  to  about  seveji  ihousand.  But  the  encouragement  affo^-de'J  by 
this  enlhu'^iasm  of  his  friends  could  not  countf  (baluice  in  Aw  s  -ind  os"  ihis 
unworthy  pr<'lender  to  empire,  the  terror  «  xeitoi  by  tbo  numUf  and  rapid 
nnproHch  of  his  foes.  He  Iiastily  raised  the  siege  of  lv>t;terand  retired  lo 
'i'  :VaUoi< ;  and  thenc'n,  while  numbers  were  joining  Iiini  from  the  surround- 
ing iUM{T|uK.,iJrh'to(i:  re  made  a  stealthy  and  solitary  flight  to  the  sanctuary 
of  '^.  i.'l  eu,  in  Hampshire.  Deserted  by  their  leader  the  Cornish  men 
subnjii.cl  to  the  king,  who  used  his  triumph  nobly.  A  few  leading  and 
partii'ulrtily  obnoxious  offenders  were  executed,  but  the  majoiity  were 
dismissed  uninjured.  In  the  case  of  Warbeck's  wife,  Catherine  Gordon, 
Henry  behaved  admirably.  That  lady  being  among  his  prisoners,  he  not 
only  received  and  pardoned  her,  as  being  far  nvj^Q  worthy  of  pity  llian  of 
blame,  but  even  gave  her  a  highly  reputable  poat  at  court. 

A.  D.  1498. — The  long  annoyance  caused  by  Warbeck  induced  Henrj's 
advisers  to  urge  him  to  seize  that  impostor  even  iis  defiance  of  the  cliurcli. 
But  Henry,  who  ever  loved  the  tortuous  and  thn  subtle  better  than  the 
openly  violent,  caused  his  emissaries  to  persuade  Warbeck  voluntarily  to 
leave  his  shelter  and  throw  himself  upon  the  king's  mercy.  This  he  ac 
cordingly  did,  and  after  having  been  led  in  a  mockery  of  regal  state  to 
London,  he  was  compelled  to  make  a  formal  and  detailed  confession  ot 
the  whole  of  his  strange  and  hypocritical  life,  and  was  then  committed  to 
close  custody. 

A.  D.  1499. — He  might  now  have  lived  securely,  if  irksomely ;  but  he 
had  so  long  been  accustomed  to  intrigue  and  the  activity  of  imposture, 
that  he  speedily  took  an  opportunity  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  his  keepers 
and  escape  to  a  sanctuary.  Here  the  prior  of  the  monastery  mediated  for 
him,  and  the  king  consented  once  more  to  spare  his  life ;  but  set  hiu)  in 
the  stocks,  at  Westminster  and  at  Cheapside ;  compelled  him  in  that  dis 
graceful  situation,  to  read  aloud  his  confession,  and  then  conm'itrcd  iiim 
to  close  custody  in  the  Tower  of  London.  Even  now,  this  restless  person 
could  not  submit  to  his  fate.  He  contrived  to  seduce  some  of  the  sei- 
vants  of  the  governor,  and  to  associate  with  himself  in  the  project  of  es- 
cape  the  unfortunate  young  earl  of  W^arwick,  whose  long  imprisonment 
had  so  weakened  his  mind,  that  no  artifice  was  too  gross  to  impose  upon 
him.  It  would  almost  seem  that  this  hopeless  scheme  must,  indirectly, 
have  been  suggested  to  the  adventurers  by  the  king  himself,  that  he  might 
have  a  sufficiently  plausible  reason  for  putting  ^^  ^.rbeck  to  death.  Nor  is 
it  any  aiJ^wer  to  this  opinion  to  say,  that  two  of  '*.  e  conniving  servants  ol 
the  governor  were  put  to  death  for  the""»  shar'!  iu  "iie  project;  for  Henry 


THE  TREA8URV  wJf  HISTORY. 


43? 


was  not  of  a  chnrarter  to  allow  his  scheme  to  fail  for  want  of  even  such  a 
sacrifice  as  that.  Both  VVarbeck  and  Warwick  were  exeauied;  the  latter 
on  the  ground  of  his  intention,  which  he  did  not  deny,  to  disturb  tlie  king's 
government. 

The  fate  oT  the  unTortunate  Warwick  excited  universal  indignation 
against  Henry,  who  certainly  sinned  no  less  against  policy  than  against 
humanity  in  this  gratiiiluus  violence  upon  so  inuffcnsive  a  churacit^r. 

A.  n.  1501. — Henry  liad  alwnys  been  anxious  for  a  friendly  and  close 
connection  with  Ferdiuaiid  of  Arragon,  whu^e  profound  and  successful 
polity,  in  many  respects,  resembled  his  own.  He  now,  accordingly,  ex- 
erted himself,  and  with  success,  to  unite  Ferdinand's  daughter,  tiie  prin- 
cess Catherine,  to  his  own  eldest  son,  Arthur,  prince  of  Wales,  llie  for- 
mer being  eighteen,  the  latter  sixteen  years  of  age. 

A.  D.  1302. — Scarcely,  however,  had  the  king  and  people  ceased  their 
rejoicings  at  this  marriage,  when  it  was  fatally  dissolved  by  the  death  of 
the  young  prince.  The  .sordid  monarch  was  much  affected  by  the  loss  of 
his  son,  for  it  seemed  to  place  him  under  the  necessity  of  returning  the 
large  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  ducats  which  had  been  received  as  the 
dowry  of  the  princess.  Henry  exerted  himself  to  bring  about  a  marriage 
between  the  princess  and  his  second  son,  Henry,  who  was  only  twelve 
years  of  age,  and  whom  he  now  created  prince  of  Wales.  The  young 
prince  was  as  averse  to  this  match  as  so  young  a  prince  could  be ;  but  hia 
father  was  resolute  in  tiie  cause  of  his  beloved  ducats,  and  that  marriage 
was  celebrated  which  was  afterwards  the  cause  of  so  much  crime  and 
suffering;  the  prime  cause,  probably,  why  Henry  VHI.  is  not  by  far  the 
most  admired  of  all  the  monarchs  of  England. 

The  latter  years  of  the  king  were  chielly  spent  in  the  indulgence  of  that 
detestable  vice,  avarice,  which  seems  not  only  to  increase  by  enjoyment, 
but  also  to  grow  more  and  more  craving  in  exact  proportion  to  the  ap- 
proach of  that  hour  in  which  the  wealth  of  the  world  is  vain.  His  excel- 
lent but  far  from  well  treated  queen  having  died  in  child-bed  in  1503,  Hen- 
ry, from  that  time,  seems  to  have  been  haunted  with  a  notion  that  no  trea- 
sure could  be  too  immense  to  guard  him  against  the  rivalship  of  his  son, 
the  prince  of  Wales.  Conscious  that  the  late  queen's  title  was  better 
than  his  own,  Henry  probably  thought  that  if  the  prince  were  to  aim  at  the 
crown  in  right  of  his  mother  he  would  not  be  without  support,  and  that,  in 
such  case,  the  successful  side  would  be  that  which  had  the  best  supply 
of  money.  Upon  no  other  principle  can  we  account  for  the  shameless 
and  eager  rapacity  with  whicli,  by  means  of  benevolences  extorted  from 
parliament,  and  oppressive  fines  wrung  from  individuals  through  the  arts 
of  the  infamous  Dudley  and  Empson,  the  now  enormously  wealthy  mon- 
arch continued  to  add  to  his  stores,  which,  in  ready  money  alone,  are  said 
to  have  approached  the  large  sum  of  two  millions.  Even  when  he  was 
rapidly  oinking  under  a  consumption,  he  slill  upheld  and  employed  his 
merciless  satellites  in  their  vile  attacks  upon  the  property  of  innocent 
men.  The  heaping  up  of  gold,  however,  could  not  stay  the  ravages  of  his 
fearful  disease,  and  he  expired  at  his  paUice  at  Richmond  at  the  compar- 
atively early  age  of  fifty-two  years,  and  after  a  prosperous  reign  of  twen- 
ty-three years  und  eight  months,  on  the  twenty-second  of  April,  1509. 

Cold,  cautious,  resolute  and  stern,  Henry  was  an  arbitrary  and  unjust 
nion  ircli ;  yet  for  the  mass  of  the  people  his  reign  was  a  good  one.  To 
th(!  wealthy  his  avarice  was  a  scourge;  to  the  haughty  and  to  the  high- 
born his  firm  and  vigilant  rule  must  have  been  terrible.  But  he  allowed 
no  one  tc  ;^"under  but  for  i...n;  no  one  to  tyrannize  but  in  obedience  to  his 
orders.  Tne  barbarous  tyranny  of  the  feudal  nobles  was  forever  stricken 
down;  the  middle  classes  were  raised  to  an  importance  and  influence  pre- 
viously unheard  of  in  England  ;  and,  apart  from  his  arbitrary  and  really 
impolitic,  because  needless,  extortions  of  money,  uie  general  strain  of  his 


438 


THB  TEBASUaY  OF  HISTOEY. 


laws  tended  not  only  to  the  making  of  a  despotic  monarch,  but  also  of  « 
well  regulated  nobility  and  an  enterprising,  prosperous  people,  whose  en- 
terprise and  whose  prosperity,  having  no  check  except  the  despotic  power 
of  the  monarch,  could  not  fail  sooner  or  later  to  curb  '.hat  one  despotism 
which  had  so  far  been  useful  that  it  had  freed  them  from  the  manv-headnJ 
despotism  of  the  nobility. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


THE    REION    or    HENRY    VUI. 


*.  D.  1509, — It  is  a  sad  but  a  certain  truth  that  the  mass  of  mankind 
have  but  a  loose  and  deceptive  morality  ;  tliey  look  ralli(  r  to  the  nianiiei 
than  to  the  extent  of  crime  when  forming  their  judgments.  The  splendid 
tyrannies  of  an  Edward  were  rather  admired  than  deplored  ;  even  the 
gifted  ferocity  of  the  usurping  third  Uicliurd  was  thought  to  be  in  sunie 
Bort  redeemed  by  the  very  excess  of  subtlety  in  the  plan,  and  of  mure  an- 
imal daring  in  the  execution,  by  that  nation  which  now  scarcely  endeav 
oured  to  conceal  its  joy  at  the  decease  of  the  cold,  avaricious  Henry. 
Yet,  bad  as  much  of  Henry's  conduct  was,  and  very  contemptible  a.s  well 
as  hateful  as  excessive  avarice  unquestionably  is,  Uiehard,  nay  even  Ed- 
ward, would  not  for  an  instant  bear  comparison  with  Henry  if  the  public 
judgment  were  not  warped.  It  was  not  so  much  the  vices  of  Henry  ViJ. 
that  the  people  hated  him  for,  as  his  cold  and  wearisome  firmness  of 
rule;  could  he  sometimes  have  been  with  impunity  sinned  against,  he 
might  have  siimed  ten  times  as  much  as  he  did,  without  being  nearly  so 
much  hated  as  he  was. 

The  cautious  policy  of  Henry  VII.,  the  severity  of  his  punishments,  and 
his  incurable  cupidity,  gavs  no  small  advantage  to  the  conmiencemenl  of 
the  reign  of  his  successor,  who  ascended  the  throne  with  probably  as 
many  prepossessions  in  the  hearts  and  minds  of  iiis  people  as  any  monarch 
in  our  history. 

Young,  handsome,  gay,  skilled  in  all  manly  exercises,  and  far  belter  ed- 
ucated,  scholastically  speaking,  than  was  usual  even  among  princes  at 
that  time,  Henry  VHI.  had  the  still  farther  and  inestimable  advantages  of 
having  never  been  in  any  degree  associated  in  men's  minds  with  the  cm. 
elties  or  the  extortions  rf  his  father,  whose  jealousy  had  always  kept  the 
young  prince  unconnected  with  the  management  of  public  affairs.  Wilh 
all  these  advantages,  and  uniting  in  his  own  person  the  claims  of  both 
York  and  Lancaster,  Henry  VIII.  may  most  truly  be  said  to  have  com- 
menced his  reign  with  the  universal  love  and  admi'.ulon  of  his  people. 
His  grandhiothiir,  the  dowager  countess  of  Richmond  and  Derby,  was 
still  alive,  and  Henry  had  the  good  sense  and  fortune  to  be  guided  by 
her  shrewdness  and  experience  in  the  important  matter  of  forming  his 
first  ministry.  The  ability  of  the  ministers  of  the  late  king  was  beyond 
all  cavil,  and  it  was  Henry's  obvious  policy  to  retain  as  much  of  the  talent 
which  had  aided  his  father,  with  as  little  as  possible  of  either  the  wicked- 
ness or  the  unpopularity.  The  numberless  and  severe  sufferings  which 
had  been  inflicted  upon  men  of  wealth  during  the  last  reign,  caused  a  pro- 
portionately loud  and  general  cry  to  be  now  raised  against  the  informers, 
particularly  against  the  noted  Dudley  and  Empson,  who  had  so  successrully 
and  unscrupulously  served  the  late  king;  and  though  the  Justice  of  Henry 
VIII.  did  not  induce  him  to  part  with  any  portion  of  the  treasure  whicb 
his  father  had  so  iniquitously  obtained,  so  neither  did  it  prompt  him  to  de- 
fend  his  father's  tools.  Both  Dudley  and  Empson  were  seized  and  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower,  amid  the  joy  and  execrations  of  the  people  ;  although, 
fts  we  shall  in  a  few  words  be  able  to  ehosv,  the  very  criminality  of 


TUB  TllKAdUHY  OF  HIBTOUY. 


439 


m  Itch  these  men  were  accused,  was  nut  more  flagrant  or  ):  'eful  than 
th  I  which  was  now  cotniiiilted  against  them.  Whuu  they  were  summon^ 
ed  before  tho  council,  ai.d  culled  upon  to  show  why  they  sliould  not 
be  punished  Tor  tlieir  conduct  durin);  the  late  reign,  Empsuii,  who  was  a 
fluent  speaker  uud  u  really  able  lawyer,  made  a  defence  of  his  own  and 
Ins  c(>Meague's  conduct,  wliich,  had  tha  king  been  jur:l  and  the  people  rea- 
Honablu,  would  have  led  to  such  alterations  in  th>i  lav>-8  as  would  forever 
after  have  rendered  it  impossible  for  unprincipled  infonners  to  ruin  the 
wealtlty  subject,  while  pandering  to  the  grcediucss  of  a  grasping  and  un- 
just king.  He  very  truly  argued  tliat  he  and  liis  colleague  had  acted  in 
obedience  to  the  king,  and  in  accordance  with  laws  which,  hnwver 
ancient,  were  unrepealed  and  therefore  as  authoritative  as  over ;  that  it 
was  not  at  all  to  be  marvelled  at  if  those  who  were  punished  by  law 
should  rail  at  those  who  put  the  law  in  force  ;  that  all  wcU-reguluted  states 
always  made  the  impartial  and  strict  enforcement  of  the  laws  their  chief 
boast,  and  that  that  stale  would,  inevitably,  fall  into  utter  ruin,  where  a 
contrary  practice  should  be  allowed  to  obtain. 

This  defence,  which  clearly  threw  the  blame  upon  the  state  of  the  laws 
and  upon  the  evil  inclinations  of  the  late  king,  did  not  prevent  Uudleyand 
Empson  from  being  sent  to  the  Tower.  They  were  soon  afterwards  con- 
victed by  a  jury,  and  this  conviction  was  followed  up  by  an  act  of  attainder, 
which  was  passed  i)y  parliament,  and  Kn>pson  and  Dudley  were  executed 
amid  the  savage  rejoicings  of  the  peor'ic,  whose  demeanour  on  this  occa- 
sion showed  them  to  be  truly  unw(>k[hy  the  liberty  they  so  highly  valued. 
We  do  not  palliate  the  moral  feel.ngs  of  Empson  and  Dudley,  but,  legally 
speaking,  they  were  murdered ;  ti)ey  were  p. it  to  death  for  doing  that 
which  the  law  directly  authorised,  and  indirectly  commanded  them  tu  do. 
In  complianiic  with  the  advice  of  his  council,  and  of  the  countess  of 
Richmond  and  Derby,  Henry  completed  his  marriage  with  the  princess 
Catherine,  the  widow  of  his  brother  Arthur;  though  it  seems  certain,  not 
only  that  Henry  had  himself  no  preference  for  that  princess,  wlio  was 
plain  in  person  and  his  senior  by  six  years,  but  no  less  certain  that  his 
father  on  his  death-bed  conjured  him  to  take  the  earliest  possible  oppor- 
tunity to  break  the  engagement. 

Though  Henry  VIII.  had  received  a  good  education,  and  migiude-^crve 
the  praise  of  learning  and  ability,  isven  without  reference  to  his  higl,  rank, 
he  was  far  too  imp'.iuous,  and  W.^  mucti  the  creature  of  impulse,  to  de- 
serve the  titlr.  of  a  great  politician.  At  his  coming  to  the  throne,  the  state 
of  Europe  was  such  that  laissez  alter  would  have  been  the  best  maxim  for 
all  the  sovereigns;  and  England,  blest  with  domestic  peace,  and  little  con- 
cerned in  the  affairs  of  tlie  continent,  ought  especially  to  have  kept  aloof 
from  interference.  Italy  was  the  theatre  o*"  strife  between  the  powers  of 
Spain  and  France;  Henry's  best  policy  clearly  would  have  been  to  let  these 
great  powers  waste  their  time  and  strength  against  each  other ;  yet,  at  the 
very  commencement  of  his  reign,  he  allowed  Pope  Julius  II.  to  seduce 
him  into  the  grossly  impolitic  step  of  allying  himself  with  that  pontiff, 
the  emperor  iVlaximilian,  and  Henry's  father-in  law,  Ferdinand,  to  crush 
and  trample  upon  the  commonwealth  of  Venice. 

A.  D.  1510. — Having  succeeded  in  engaging  Henry  in  thi^  league,  to 
which  neither  his  own  honour  nor  the  interests  of  his  people  obliged  the 
young  monarch,  Julius  was  encouraged  to  engage  him  in  the  more  am- 
bitious project  of  freeing  Italy  from  foreigners.  The  pontiff  accordingly 
sent  a  flattering  message  to  Henry,  with  a  perfumed  and  anointed  rose, 
and  he  held  out  to  Henry's  ambassador  at  Rome,  Bainbridge,  archbishop 
of  Yoik,  H  cardinal's  hat  as  the  reward  of  his  exertions  in  his  interest. 
This  done,  he  persuaded  Ferdinand  and  the  Swiss  cantons  to  join  him, 
and  declared  war  again^st  the  duke  of  Ferrara,  the  ally  and  friend  of  tiu 
••iiiach 


S\-  .. 


t»    -1 


140 


THE  TREASURY  OP  H/8T0RY. 


A.  0  1511 — The  emperor  Maximiliiin  still  liPld  to  bin  nlliiincR  with 
Louis,  and  thny,  with  nome  miil(H)ntCMt  ciirdiiiiils,  now  chd«!iivourcd  to 
eheck  the  nnibi'tioii  of  Julius,  by  calling  a  gejinal  council  for  tin;  pnrposo 
of  reforming  the  church.  With  ilic  exception  of  some  French  bishops,  t'e 
cardinnls  had  scarcely  any  supporters,  and  they  were  so  ill  received  at 
Pisa,  where  they  first  met,  that  they  were  obliged  to  adjourn  to  Mihui. 
Even  here,  though  under  the  dominion  and  protection  of  France,  they 
were  so  mucn  insi.l"d,  that  they  again  adjourned  to  Lyons;  and  it  was 
evident  that  li,  ly  had  but  little  chance  of  success  against  the  pope,  who, 
besides  being  extremely  popular,  did  not  fail  to  exercise  his  power  of  ex- 
communicating the  clerical  attendants  of  the  council,  and  absolving  from 
the'r  allegiance  Iho  subjects  of  the  monarchs  who  protected  them. 

A.  u.  1512.— [lenry,  who  at  this  period  of  his  life  was  far  too  impet- 
IJOUB  to  be  otherwise  than  sincere,  was  really  anxious  to  protect  the  soy. 
coign  pontiff  from  insult  and  v>Dpression,  and  he  was  strengtbennd  in 
this  inclination  by  the  inlereslcd  c'>inscl  of  his  father-in-law,  atid  by  his 
own  hope  of  being  honoured  wi?H  th^  title  of  Most  Christian  Kin<^,  which 
heretofore  had  belonged.to  the  king  of  France.  \\v  consequeiiily  allied 
himself  with  Spain,  Venice,  and  the  pope,  against  the  king  ol  France,  and 
not  merely  sent  an  embassy  to  dehort  Louis  from  warring  against  the 
pope,  but  also  demanded  the  restoration  to  Fngland  of  Anjou,  Maine, 
Guienne,  and  Normandy.  This  demand  was  considered  tantamount  to  a 
declaration  of  war,  and  was  supported  by  parliament,  which  granted 
Henry  a  very  liberal  supply. 

Ferdinand,  who  had  his  own  ends  to  serve,  affected  to  be  extremely 
anxious  to  serve  Henry,  :i:k1  sent  a  fleet  to  convey  the  English  troops,  to 
the  number  of  ten  thousand,  to  Fontarabia.  The  marquis  of  Dorset,  ac- 
comi)anied  by  the  lords  Broke  and  HowaW,  and  many  other  young  noble- 
man ambitious  of  warlike  fame,  commanded  this  force,  which  was  ex- 
tremely well  appointed,  though  it  chiefly  consisted  of  infantry.  But 
Dorset  very  soon  found  that  Henry's  interests  were  not  consulted  by  Fer- 
dinand and  his  generals;  and,  after  much  idle  disputation,  the  Fnglish 
troops  tjroke  out  into  mutiny,  and  the  expedition  ritnrned  wiihoui 
achieving  anything.  Henry  was  much  annoyed  by  this  egregious  fail- 
ure, and  Dorset  had  great  difliculty  in  convincing  him  of  the  exclusive- 
ly selfish  nature  of  Ferdinand's  designs. 

By  sea  the  English  were  not  much  more  prosperous  than  by  laud.  A 
fleet  of  forty-five  sail  was  encountered  off  Brest  by  thirty-nine  .  lil  of 
the  French;  the  French  admiral's  ship  caught  fi'-e,  and  Primauu:i'  the 
commander,  resolutely  grappled  with  the  English  admiral,  and  both  es- 
8els  blew  up  togetiicr,  the  enraged  crews  combating  to  the  last.  The 
French,  notwithstanding  the  loss  of  their  admiral,  made  good  their  escape 
with  all  the  rest  of  their  ships. 

But  though  Henry  acquired  no  glory  or  advantage  by  these  operations 
against  France,  he  did  Louis  serious  mischief  by  compelling  him  to  retain 
in  France  troops  whose  presence  was  absolutely  necessary  to  his  interests 
in  Italy.  But  for  this  circumstance  Louis  wof.ld  probably  have  prospered 
there.  His  young  and  herric  nepliew,  Gaston  de  Foix,  even  with  the 
slender  forces  that  could  be  spared  to  him,  during  a  few  months  of  a 
career  which  a  great  modern  poet  most  truly  calls  "brief,  brave,  and 
glorious,"  obtained  signal  advantages  ;  but  he  fell  in  the  very  moment  of 
victory  over  the  army  of  the  pope  and  Ferdinand,  at  Ravenna,  His  genius 
had,  in  a  great  degree,  compensated  for  the  numerical  inferiority  of  the 
French  ;  but  directly  afr.  his  death  Genoa  and  Milan  revolted,  and  Louis 
was  speedily  deprived  ot  every  foot  of  his  newly-acquired  Italian  con- 
quests, except  some  isclated  and  comparatively  unimportant  fortresses. 

A.  D.  1513.— Pope  Julius  II.  had  si^arcely  time  to  exult  over  his  sue* 
•'.esses  against  the  arms  of  Louis  when  that  pontiff  died,  and  was  siir* 


THR  TRKASLRY  OF  HISTOllY. 


441 


red 
the 

of  a 
and 

ito( 


eeeded  by  John  do  Mod  who,  iiii(!»'r  tli««  title  nf  I.po  X.,  \h  f^inod  in 
hJHlory  ixi  Irss  for  liin  paui.iia},"- of  iUc.  nrls  and  hi'ii-iicch,  than  fur  hiH 
prtfDund  politiciil  talents.  lifo  X.  had  no  Hooncr  ascended  It  r  papal 
throne  thiin  he  dcxli'ronsly  wiihdicw  the  ♦•nipfror  M  ixiiniliin  from  iho 
Krcnith  intt^rests;  iind,  liy  chfaf)  hut  (l.itti'rnijj;  coinpliincnlM  to  Utiiry  and 
his  Icadiiiif  courtiiMs,  j^rcatly  increased  the  (tomdarily  of  tin-  pa|>nl  c  luse 
in  KnglantI,  where  the  parliament  imposed  a  poll-tax  to  assist  the  kinir  iti 
his  designs  ajjainst  France.  Whde  Henry  was  eajferly  mikinj;  his  pre- 
parations,  he  liid  not  neylect  his  dantfcrous  oiuMiiy,  .lames  of  Ncolland. 
That  prinee  was  much  attached  (o  the  French  canse,  and  stnl  a  scpiadron 
of  vessels  to  aid  it;  and,  tiion^'h  to  Henry's  envoy  he  now  professed  the 
most  peaceahle  inulinati(Mis,  the  earl  of  Nnrrey  was  ordered  to  watch  the 
borders  with  a  strong  force-,  lest  F.iii,'land  should  he  assailed  in  that  direc- 
tioii  dnrinif  the  kiiiK's  absen(!e  in  France. 

While  Henry  was  busied  in  preparintf  a  largo  land  force  for  llie  invasion 
of  France,  his  fleet,  under  Sir  Edward  Howard,  cruised  in  the  cdianiiel, 
and  at  length  drew  np  in  order  of  battle  off  Brest  and  challenged  the 
French  force  which  lay  there;  but  the  French  (lomm.iiider  being  in  daily 
expectation  of  a  reinforcement  of  galleys  under  llie  command  of  Prejeant 
de  Bidoux,  would  not  allow  any  taunts  to  draw  him  from  his  security. 
The  galleys  at  length  arrived  at  Conquet,  near  Brest,  and  Bidonx  placed 
himself  befieath  a  battery.  There  he  was  all ndvod  by  Sir  Kdward,  who, 
with  a  .'<p^nish  cavalier  and  seventeen  English,  boldly  boarded  Bidoux's 
own  vesstd,  but  was  killed  and  thrust  into  the  sea.  '1  he  loss  of  their  ad- 
miral so  discouraged  the  English  that  they  raised  their  blo' kade  of  Brest 
harbour,  and  the  French  fleet  soon  after  made  a  descent  upon  the  coast 
of  Sussex,  but  was  beaten  off. 

Eight  thousand  men  under  the  command  of  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury, 
ami  six  thousand  under  that  of  Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbnry,  having  em- 
barked for  France,  the  king  now  prepared  to  follow  with  the  main  army. 
He  had  already  made  the  queen  regent  fturingj  his  absence;  and  that  she 
miglit  be  in  the  less  danger  of  being  disturbed  by  any  revolt,  he  now 
caused  Edmund  de  la  Pole,  earl  of  Suffolk,  who  had  been  attainted  during 
the  last  reign,  to  be  beheaded  in  the  Tower  of  London. 

On  arriving  at  Calais  Henry  found  that  the  aid  afforded  him  fell  very 
far  short  of  what  he  had  been  promised.  Maximilian,  who  was  to  have 
brought  a  reinforcement  of  eight  thousand  men  in  return  for  a  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  crowns  which  Henry  had  advanced  him,  was  unable 
to  fulfil  his  engagement.  He  however  made  the  best  amends  in  his  power 
by  joining  with  such  scanty  force  as  he  could  command;  and  he  enlisted 
himself  under  Henry  as  his  officer,  with  a  salary  of  one  hundred  crowns 
per  day. 

The  earl  of  Shrewsbury  and  the  lord  Herbert  immediately  on  their 
arrival  in  France  had  laid  siege  to  Terouane,  a  town  on  the  borders  of 
Picardy,  which  was  gallantly  defended  by  two  thousam^  men  under  tiie 
command  of  Crequi  and  Teligni.  The  strength  of  She  place  and  the  gal- 
lantry of  the  garrison  bade  defiance  to  the  besieger;i ;  but  a  dreadful  want 
of  both  provisions  and  ammunition  was  soon  felt  in  (he  piare.  Fontrailles 
was  detached  by  Louis  from  the  army  at  Amiens  to  carry  some  relief  to 
this  place.  He  look  eight  hundred'  horsemen,  each  of  whom  carried 
behind  him  a  sack  of  gunpowder  and  two  quarters  of  bacon,  and,  though 
thus  encumbered,  this  gallant  cavalry  cut  their  way  though  the  English, 
deposited  their  burdens  in  the  fosse  of  the  tcwn,  and  returned  to  their 
quarters  with  scarcely  any  loss. 

The  same  gallant  Fontrailles  was  shortly  afterwords  again  about  to 
throw  some  relief  into  Terouane;  and  as  it  was  judged  that  the  English 
would  now  be  on  the  alert,  a  strong  body  of  French  cavalry  was  ordered 
np  to  protect  him.     Henry  sent  out  a  body  of  cavalry  to  hold    hem  in 


443 


TUB  TKKA»IJUY  OK  Hlri'KJliy. 


ch«!ck,  ami,  Htran^e  to  relate,  »h(»iij{li  >••<'  rreiieli  were  pi  U-d  tmops,  con. 
•idling  chieDy  of  ^eiitleiiii  ii  wliu  liad  ruii;{lit  u.illiiiitl)  .  <  ij  oiii-n,  tlu'j 
were  Muizcd  Hith  a  Mulileii  piiiiio  at  the  up|iri);irli  ol'  tliu  l'.i>i{li8ti,  iitid  tied 
in  »pile  of  tliu  atienipiH  to  rally  lliein  wliieli  were  nimte  liy  siieli  inrn  .is 
thu  ehevalier  Hayard,  tlie  duke  of  LonKuevdie,  and  otlwr  (li.^i  mmiished 
ofTicerH  who  were  anion|r  the  nundter  taken  [jnttoners.  'I'his  haille,  from 
the  panic  flit{ht  of  the  P'reneli,  is  known  as  the  Baltle  of  S/ntrs.  Had 
Henry  imniediatcdy  after  this  pushed  hiNudvantaueN,  he  niit;hi  easily  have 
inarched  to  I'ari;*,  where  both  friends  and  foes  fully  expected  to  see  hini ; 
but  he  allowed  IMuxinnliaa  to  persuade  him  into  the  besie(;in(rof  Tournuy, 
which,  after  much  delay,  was  taken.  Henry  then  reiurncil  to  KiiKland, 
having  ((uined  some  reputation  aa  u  chivalrous  soldier,  hut  certainly  with 
no  increase  of  his  reputation  as  u  politician  or  a  general. 

During  Henry's  ahsencc  ihe  Scots  acted  precisely  as  had  been  aiiticj. 
pated.  James,  with  an  army  of  fifty  thousand  men,  had  crossed  the  bordei 
and  taken  several  castles,  ravaging;  and  plundering  the  country  in  every 
direction  around  them.  Ilavinr  taken  the  lady  Fordo  prisoner  in  hei 
castle,  .Tames  was  so  much  charmed  with  her  socirly  that  he  lost  much 
precious  time,  and  his  disorderly  troops  took  uilvantage  of  his  negligenci 
and  retreated  to  their  homes  in  great  number.)  with  the  plunder  they  had 
obtained  from  the  Southrons.  The  carl  of  Surrey,  after  much  difficulty, 
came  up  with  the  Scots,  who  by  these  desertions  were  reduced  to  some 
what  nearer  his  own  force  of  twenty-si\  thousand  men.  James  in  person 
commanded  the  centre  division  of  the  Scots,  the  carl  of  Huntley  and  Lord 
Hume  the  right,  the  carls  of  Lennoy  and  Argylo  the  left,  while  the  earl 
of  Bothwell  had  charge  of  the  rose  ve.  The  English  centre  was  com- 
manded by  I,ord  Howard  in  the  first  ine,  and  by  the  gallant  earl  of  Surrey 
himself  in  the  second;  the  wings  by  <iir  Edmund  Howard,  Sir  Marniaduke 
Constable,  Lord  Dacre,  and  Sir  Edwaru  'Stanley.  The  right  v.  iug  of  the 
Scots  conunenccd  the  action,  and  fnirly  drcvc  i\,c  English  left  wing  off  the 
field;  but  the  Scottish  left,  in  the  meantime,  broke  from  all  discipline, 
and  attacked  so  impetuously,  but  in  such  disorder,  that  Sir  Edward  Howard 
and  the  lord  Dacre,  who  profited  by  their  confusion  and  received  them 
coolly,  cut  them  to  pieces  ere  they  could  be  rescued  by  James's  own  divi- 
sion and  the  reserve  under  Bothwell.  Though  the  Scots  sustained  this 
great  loss,  the  presence  of  the  sovereign  so  much  a'limated  their  courage, 
that  they  kept  up  the  engagement  until  night  put  an  end  to  it.  F^ven  then 
it  was  uncertain  which  side  had,  in  reality,  sustained  the  greater  loss. 
But,  on  the  following  day,  it  was  discovered  that  the  English,  as  well  as 
the  Scots,  had  lost  about  five  thousand  men ;  the  forme  •  had  suffered 
almost  ex(dusively  in  the  ranks,  while  the  latter  had  lost  many  of  their 
bravcMt  nobles.  The  king  of  Scotland  was  himself  anio  g  the  missing 
from  this  fatal  "Flodden  Field."  A  body,  indeed,  was  found  among  the 
slain,  which  from  the  royal  attire  was  supposed  to  be  the  king's,  and  it 
was  even  royally  interred,  Henry  generously  pretending  that  James,  while 
dying,  expressed  his  contrition  for  that  misconduct  towards  the  pope 
which  had  placed  him  under  the  terrible  sentence  of  excommunication. 
But  though  Henry  was  evidently  convinced  that  he  was  thus  doing  honour 
to  the  body  of  his  brolhcr-in-law,  the  Scots  were  equally  convinced  that 
he  was  not<  and  that  James  did  not  fall  in  the  battle.  By  some  it  was  as> 
serted  that  the  monarch,  escaping  from  the  field,  was  put  to  death  by  order 
of  Lord  Hume;  while  others  no  less  believed  that  he  escaped  to  the  Holy 
Land,  whence  they  long  subsequently  continued  to  expect  him  to  return. 

The  event  of  the  battle  of  Flodden  having  released  Henry  from  all  feat 
of  his  northern  border,  at  least  for  that  time,  he  made  no  difficulty  about 
granting  peace  to  his  sister  Margaret,  who  was  now  made  regent  of  Scot- 
land during  the  minority  of  her  son. 

A.  D.  1514. — Henry  rewarded  the  chief  instruments  in  obtaining  himthi* 


TUB  THRA8UHY  OF  HISTORY. 


44S 


jplrndid  victory,  by  oniiferriiiy:  oil  the  carl  of  Surrey  tht-  lillo  of  dukn  ol 
Norfolk,  winch  IdkI  1>imii  funvidMi  Ity  iliat  itobUMimii'M  fattier,  wlio  Ruiuil 
Willi  Uicliard  III.  at  Uonworlli  Kit'lii ;  upon  Lord  Howard  tli*-  tiUc  of  the 
pari  of  Surrey  ;  on  Lord  Herbert  that  ol  eurl  of  \Voree»ter;  upon  Sir  Kd- 
ward  Stanley  that  of  lord  .Monteaglei  and  upon  Cliarlei  Draiidon,  earl  uf 
Linit',  that  of  duke  of  SutFolk. 

At  tliu  same  time  the  bishopric  of  Lincoln  was  bestowed  upon  lli(<  kiiit^'s 
I'hief  favourite  and  pninu  iiiiniHti.T,  'I'lioiiiaH  VVidNey,  whose  part  iii  this 
reign  was  ho  iniportunt  as  tu  demand  that  we  should  presently  speak  of 
liiiM  at  some  length. 

The  war  with  Scotland  being  fortunately  terminated,  Henry  again  turned 
his  wliide  attention  to  France.  There,  however,  he  found  little  c.iuse  of 
gratulatioii.  ilis  father-in-law,  Ferdinand  of  Arragoii,  having  obtained 
possession  of  the  petty  frontier  kingdom  of  Navarre,  had  eagerly  made 
peace  with  France,  and  induced  the  emperor  Maximilian  to  do  the  same  ; 
and  the  [lope,  in  whose  cause  Henry  ha<l  sacrificed  bo  much,  hail  also  ac- 
cupted  of  the  submission  of  Louis.. 

The  truth  was  now  more  than  ever  apparent,  that,  however  great  Henry's 
oth^r  (pialities,  he  was  bv  no  means  skilled  in  the  wiles  of  i)olitii  s;  and 
[lis  present  experience  of  that  truth  was  the  more  emliittered,  because  he 
found  that  Maximilian  had  been  induced  to  abandon  him  by  an  offer  uf  the 
daughter  of  France  to  the  son  of  that  prince ;  tliougli  that  son  Charles 
had  already  been  affianced  to  Henry's  own  younger  sister,  the  princess 
Mary,  who  was  now  fast  approaching  the  age  for  the  completion  of  the 
eoiitiact. 

Thus  doubly  duped  and  injured,  Henry  would,  most  likely,  have  re-in- 
vaded France,  no  nr.tler  at  what  sacrifice,  but  that  the  duke  of  Longue- 
ville,  who  had  remained  a  prisoner  ever  since  the  memorable  "  battle  of 
iip'-iTs,"  suggested  a  match  bi  tv>  t^cu  the  deserted  princess  Mary  and  Louis 
of  France  himself.  It  is  tru,  that  monarch  was  upwaios  of  fifty  years  of 
age,  and  the  princess  not  ;uite  sixteen;  but  so  many  advantages  were 
oirered  to  Henry,  that  the  marriage  was  concluded  at  Aiibeville,  whither 
Louis  proceeded  to  meet  his  young  bride.  Their  happiness  and  the  re- 
joicings of  the  French  people  were  of  but  short  duration,  the  king  sur- 
viving the  marriage  only  about  three  months. 

The  young  queen  dowager  of  France  had,  before  her  marriage,  shown 
some  partiality  for  the  duke  of  Suffolk,  the  most  accomplished  cavalier  of 
the  age,  and  an  especial  favourite  of  Henry  ;  and  ho  now  easily  persuaded 
her  to  shorten  the  period  of  her  widowhood.  Henry  was,  or  leigned  to 
be,  angry  at  their  precipitate  union ;  but  his  anger,  if  real,  was  only  of 
short  duration,  and  the  aecomulished  duke  and  his  lovely  bride  were  soon 
invited  to  return  to  the  English  court. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THE    REIGN    OF    HENRY    VIII.    {continued). 

As  Henry  VHl.  was,  in  many  respects,  the  most  extraordinary  of  ou 
moriarchs,  his  favourite  and  minister,  the  cardinal  Wolsey,  was  at  the  very 
head  of  the  extraordinary  men,  even  in  that  age  of  strange  men  and 
strange  deeds.  He  was  the  son  of  a  butcher  in  the  town  of  Ipswich,  and 
displaying,  while  young,  great  quickness  and  intelligence,  he  had  a  learned 
education,  with  a  view  to  his  entering  the  church.  Having,  at  the  con- 
clusion of  Ills  own  education,  been  employed  in  leaching  the  children  of 
the  marquis  of  Dorset,  he  gave  so  much  satisfaction  that  that  nobleman  re- 
commended him  to  Henry  VIII.,  as  his  chaplain.  As  the  private  and 
public  servant  of  that  monarch,  Wolsey  gave  equal  satisfaction  ;  and  when 


144 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HlSTORTi. 


Henry  VIII.,  a  gay,  young,  and  extravagant  monarch,  showed  a  veryc»i 
dent  preference  of  the  earl  of  Surrey  to  the  somewhat  severe  and  eco 
nomic  Fox,  bishop  of  Winchester,  this  prelate  introduced  VVolsey  to  iha 
king,  hoping  that,  wliile  his  accomplishments  and  pliability  would  enable 
him  to  eclipse  the  earl  of  Surrey,  he  would,  from  his  own  love  of  pleasure 
if  not  from  the  motives  of  gratitude,  be  subordinate  in  all  mailers  of 

Eolitics  to  the  prelate  to  whom  lie  owed  his  introduction.  The  diflerence 
etween  the  actual  conduct  of  Wolsey,  and  the  expectations  of  the  pre- 
late,  furnishes  a  striking  illustration  of  the  aptitude  of  otherwise  able  men 
to  fall  into  error  when  they  substitute  their  own  wishes  for  the  principles 
inherent  to  human  nature.  Wolsey  fully  warranted  Fox's  expectations 
in  making  himself  even  more  agreeable  to  the  gay  humour  of  the  king 
than  the  earl  of  Surrey.  But  Wolsey  took  advantage  of  his  position  to 
persuade  the  king  that  both  the  earl  and  the  prelate,  tried  counsellors  ol 
the  late  king,  felt  themselves  appointed  by  him  rather  than  by  their  present 
royal  master,  to  whom  ihoy  considered  themselves  less  servants  than 
authoritative  guardians  and  tutors.  He  so  well,  at  the  same  time,  showed 
his  own  capacity  equally  for  pleasure  and  for  business,  and  his  own  readi- 
ness to  relieve  the  king  from  the  weight  of  all  irksome  details,  and  yet  to 
be  his  very  and  docile  creature,  that  Henry  soon  found  it  impossible  to  do 
without  him,  in  either  his  gaieties  or  in  his  more  serious  pursuits;  and 
Wolsey  equally  supplanted  alike  the  cout-tier  and  the  grave  nian  of  busi. 
ness,  who,  in  endeavouring  to  make  him  his  tool,  enabled  him  to  become 
his  superior.  Confident  in  his  own  talents,  and  in  the  favour  of  Henry, 
this  son  of  a  very  humble  tradesman  carried  himself  with  an  all  but  regal 
pomp  and  haughtiness;  and  left  men  in  some  difficulty  to  pronounce 
whether  he  were  more  grasping  in  obtaining  wealth,  or  more  magnificent 
in  expending  it.  Supercilious  to  those  who  afTected  equality  with  him, 
lie  was  liberal  to  the  utmost  towards  those  beneath  him;  and,  with  a  sin- 
gular inconsistency,  though  he  could  he  ungrateful,  as  we  have  seen  in 
the  case  of  the  unsuspecting  bishop  of  Winchester,  no  man  was  more 
prone  to  an  exceeding  generosity  towards  those  who  were  not  his  patrons 
but  his  tools. 

A.  D.  1515. — A  favourite  and  minister  of  this  temper  could  not  fail  to 
make  many  enemies ;  but  Wolsey  relaxed  neither  in  haughtiness  nor  in 
ambition.  Well  knowing  the  temper  of  Henry,  the  politic  minister  ever 
affected  to  be  the  mere  tool  of  his  master,  though  the  exact  contrary 
really  was  the  case;  and  by  thus  making  all  A;*  acts  seem  to  emanate 
from  Henry's  will,  he  piqued  his  vanity  and  wilfulness  into  supporting 
them  and  him  against  all  shadow  of  opposition  or  complaint.  Made 
bishop  of  Lincoln,  and  then  archbishop  of  York,  Wolsey  held  in  coin- 
mendam  the  bishopric  of  Winchester,  the  abbey  of  St.  Alban's,  and  had 
the  revenues  at  very  easy  leases  of  the  bishoprics  of  Bath,  Worcester, 
and  Hereford.  His  influence  over  the  king  made  the  pope  anxious  to  ac- 
quire a  hold  upon  him;  Wolsey,  accordingly,  was  made  a  cardinal,  and 
thenceforth  his  whole  energies  and  ambition  were  devoted  to  the  endeavour 
to  win  the  papal  throne  itself.  Contrary  to  the  custom  of  priests,the  precious 
metals  ornamented  not  only  his  own  attire,  but  even  the  saddles  and  furiii 
ture  of  his  horses;  his  cardinal's  hat  was  carried  before  him  by  a  man  of  rank 
and  laid  upon  the  altar  when  he  entered  chapel ;  one  priest,  of  noble  stat- 
ure and  handsome  countenance,  carried  before  him  a  massive  silver  cross^ 
and  another  the  cross  of  York.  Warham,  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
also  held  the  office  of  chancellor,  and  was  but  ill  fitted  to  contend  wiili  so 
resolute  a  person  as  Wolsey,  who  speedily  worried  him  info  a  resignation 
of  the  chancellorship,  which  dignity  he  himself  grasped.  His  emoluments 
were  vast,  so  was  his  expenditure  magnificent;  and,  if  he  grasped  at 
many  offices,  it  is  but  fair  to  add  that  he  fulfilled  his  various  duties  with 
rare  energy,  judgment,  and  justice.    Wolsey  might  now  be  said  to  be 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


44ft 


Henry's  only  minister ;  fox,  bishop  of  Winclieslcr,  the  iliike  of  Norfolk, 
and  the  duke  of  Suffolk  bt'ing,  like  the  archl)i-.hoi)  of  Camerbiiry,  unable 
to  make  head  against  his  arbitrary  temper,  and  driven  from  the  court  by 
a  desire  to  avoid  a  useless  and  irritating  coiillict.  Fox,  bishop  of  Win- 
chester, who  seems  to  have  been  greatly  attached  to  Henry,  warned  him 
against  Wolsey's  ambition,  and  besought  him  to  beware  lest  the  servant 
sltould  become  tliu  master.  But  Henry  had  no  fear  of  the  kind;  he  was 
far  too  despotic  and  passionate  a  person  to  fear  that  any  minister  could 
govern  him. 

The  success  which  Frannis  of  France  met  with  in  Italy  tended  to  ex- 
cite the  jealousy  and  fears  of  England,  as  every  new  acquisition  made  by 
France  encroached  upon  the  balance  of  power,  upon  which  the  safety  of 
English  interests  so  greatly  depended.  Francis,  moreover  had  given  of- 
fence, not  only  to  Henry,  but  also  to  Wolscy,  who  took  care  not  to  allow 
h'S  master's  anger  to  subside  for  want  of  a  prompter.  But  though  Henry 
spent  a  large  sum  of  money  in  stirring  up  enmities  against  France,  he 
did  so  to  little  practical  effect,  and  was  easily  induced  to  peace. 

A.  D.  1516. — Ferdinand  the  Catholic,  the  father-in-law  of  Henry,  died  in 
the  midst  of  a  profound  peace  in  Europe,  and  wassurjcceded  by  iiis  grand- 
son Charles.  This  event  caused  Francis  to  see  the  necessity  oi  bestirring 
himself  to  insure  the  friendship  of  England,  as  a  support  against  the  ex- 
tensive power  of  Spain.  As  the  best  means  of  doing  so,  lie  caused  his 
ambassador  to  make  his  peace  with  Wolsey,  and  affected  to  ask  that 
haughty  minister's  advice  on  the  most  confidential  and  important  sub- 
jects. One  of  the  advantages  obtained  by  Francis  from  tiiis  servile  flat- 
tery of  the  powerful  minister,  was  the  restoration  of  the  important  town 
of  Toiirnay,  a  frontier  fortress  of  Fiance  and  the  Netherlands  ;  Francis 
agreeing  to  pay  six  hundred  thousand  crowns,  at  twelve  equal  annual  jii- 
Blalments,  to  reimburse  Henry  for  his  expenditure  on  the  citadel  of  Tour- 
nay.  At  the  same  time  that  Francis  gave  eight  men  of  rank  as  hostages 
for  the  payment  of  the  above  large  su'.i  to  Henry,  lie  agreed  to  p;iy  twelve 
thousand  livres  per  annum  to  Wolsey  as  an  equivalent  for  the  bishopric 
of  Tournay,  to  which  he  had  a  claim.  Pleased  with  tliis  success,  Francis 
now  became  bolder  in  his  flatteries,  terming  Wolsey  governor,  tutor,  and 
evenfathei,  and  so  winning  upon  tiie  mind  of  Wolsey  by  fulsome  affecta- 
tions of  humility  and  admiration,  that  Polydore  Virgi!,  wlio  was  Wolsey's 
contemporary,  speaks  of  it  as  being  quite  certain  tliat  Wolsey  was  willing 
to  have  sold  him  Calais,  and  was  only  prevented  from  doing  so  by  the 
general  sense  he  found  to  be  entertained  of  its  value  to  England,  and  by 
iiis  forming  closer  connections  with  Spain,  which  somewhat  cooled  his 
attachment  to  France.  The  pope's  legate,  (-ampeggio,  being  i^-'^alled  on 
Iiis  failure  to  procure  a  tithe  demanded  by  the  pope  from  the  Engiisii  cler- 
gy, on  the  old  and  worn-out  pretext  of  war  with  the  Infidels,  Henry  pro- 
cured tne  legatine  power  to  be  conferred  on  Wolsey.  With  this  new  dig- 
nity, Wolscy  increased  the  loftiness  of  his  pretensions,  and  the  magaifi- 
ceiice  of  his  habits;  like  the  pope,  he  had  bishops  and  mitred  abbots  to 
serve  him  when  he  said  mass,  and  he  farther  had  nobles  of  the  best  fain- 
ihfis  to  hand  him  the  water  and  towel. 

So  haughty  had  he  now  become  that  he  even  complained  of  Warham, 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  as  being  guilty  of  undue  familiarity  in  signing 
himself  "  Your  loving  brother ;''''  which  caused  even  the  mock-spirited  War- 
ham  to  make  the  bitter  remark,  "this  man  is  drunk  with  loo  much  pros- 
perity." But  Wolsey  did  not  treat  his  legatine  appointment  as  buiiig  a 
mere  matter  of  dignity  and  pomp,  but  forthwith  opened  what  he  called  the 
legatine  court;  a  court  as  oppressive  and  as  expensive  in  its  authority  as 
the  Inquisition  itself.  It  was  to  inquire  into  all  matters  of  morality  and 
conscience,  and,  as  it  was  supplementary  t'o  the  law  of  the  land,  its  au;hor> 
tv  was,  in  reality,  only  limited  by  the  conscience  of  the  judge     Thfi  first 


44b 


THE  TttEASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


iudge  appointed  to  this  anomalous  and  dangerous  court  was  Jolin  Allen,  a 
man  whose  life  was  but  ill  spoken  of,  and  who  was  even  said  to  Imve  been 
convicted  by  Wolsey  himself  of  perjury.  In  the  hands  of  such  a  man  as 
this,  the  extensive  powers  of  the  legatine  court  were  but  too  likely  lo  be 
made  mere  instruments  of  extortion ;  and  it  was  publicly  reported  ilmt  Al- 
len  was  in  the  habit  of  convicting  or  acquitting  as  he  was  unbribed  or 
bribed.  Wolsey  was  thought  to  receive  no  small  portion  of  the  sums  thus 
obtained  by  Allen  from  the  wickedness  or  the  fears  of  the  suitors  of  his 
court.  Much  clamour  was  raised  against  Wolsey,  too,  by  the  ahnoat 
papal  extent  of  power  he  claimed  for  himself  in  all  matters  concerning 
wills  and  benefices,  the  latter  of  which  he  conferred  upon  his  creatures 
witliout  the  slightest  regard  to  the  monks'  right  of  election,  or  the  lay  gen- 
try and  nobility's  right  of  patronage.  This  iniquity  of  Allen  at  length 
caused  him  to  be  prosecuted  and  convicted ;  and  the  king,  on  that  occa- 
sion, expressed  so  much  indignation,  that  Wolsey  was  ever  after  more 
cautious  and  guarded  in  the  use  of  his  authority. 

A.  n.  1519. — Immersed  in  pleasures,  Henry  contrived  to  expend  all  the 
huge  treasures  which  accrued  to  him  on  the  death  of  his  father;  and  he 
was  now  poor,  just  when  a  circumstance  occurred  to  render  his  posses- 
sioa  of  treasure  more  than  usually  important.  Maximilian,  the  em- 
peror, who  had  long  been  declining,  died ;  and  Henry  and  the  kings  of 
France  and  Spain  were  candidates  for  that  chief  place  among  the  princes 
of  Christendom.  Money  was  profusely  lavished  upon  the  electors  by  both 
Charles  and  Francis;  but  Henry's  minister.  Face,  having  scarcely  any 
command  of  cash,  found  his  efforts  everywhere  useless,  and  Cliarles 
gained  the  day. 

A.  D.  1520. — In  reality  Henry  was  formidable  to  either  France  or  the 
emperor,  and  he  could  at  a  moment's  warning,  throw  his  vveiglit  into  tlie 
one  01  the  other  scale.  Aware  of  this  fact,  Francis  was  anxious  for  aa 
opportunity  of  personally  practising  upon  the  generosity  and  want  of  cool 
judgment,  which  he  quite  correctly  imputed  to  Henry.  He,  therefore, 
proposed  that  they  should  meet  in  a  field  within  the  English  pale,  near 
Calais ;  the  proposal  was  warmly  seconded  by  Wolsey,  who  was  as  eager 
as  a  court  beauty  of  the  other  sex  for  every  occasion  of  personal  splendour 
and  costliness.  Each  of  the  monarchs  was  young,  gay,  tasteful,  and  mag- 
nificent: and  so  well  did  their  courtiers  enter  into  their  feeling  of  gor- 
geous rivalry,  that  some  nobles  of  both  nations  expended  on  the  ceremony 
and  show  of  a  few  brief  days,  sums  which  involved  their  families  in  strait- 
ened circumstances  for  the  rest  of  their  lives. 

Tlie  emperor  Charles  no  sooner  heard  of  the  proposed  interview  between 
the  kings,  than  he,  being  on  his  way  from  Spain  to  the  Netherlands,  paid 
Ilinry  the  compliment  of  landing  at  Dover,  whither  Henry  at  once  pro- 
ceeded to  meet  him.  Charles  not  only  endeavoured  in  every  possible 
way  to  please  and  flatter  Henry,  but  he  also  paid  assidious  court  to  Wol- 
sey, and  bound  that  aspiring  personage  to  his  interests  by  promising  to 
aid  him  in  reaching  the  papacy ;  a  promise  which  Charles  felt  the  less  dif- 
Hculty  about  makng,  because  the  reigning  pope  LeoX.  was  junior  to  Wol- 
sey by  some  year;,  and  very  likely  to  outlive  him.  Henry  was  perfectly 
well  aware  of  the  pains  Charles  took  to  conciliate  Wolsey,  but,  strange 
to  say,  felt  rather  flattered  than  hurt,  as  tliough  the  compliment  were  ulti- 
mately paid  to  his  own  peison  and  will. 

When  the  emperor  had  taken  his  departure  Henry  proceeded  to  Fiance, 
where  the  meeting  took  place  between  him  and  Francis.  Wolsey,  who 
had  the  regulation  of  the  ceremonial,  so  well  indulged  his  own  and  his 
master's  love  of  magnificence,  that  the  place  of  meeting  was  by  the  com- 
mon consent  of  the  delighted  spectators  hailed  by  the  gorgeous  title  ol 
The  field  of  the  cloth  of  gold.  Gold  and  jewels  abounded ;  and  both  the 
monarchs  and  their  numerous  courts  were  apparelled  ia  the  mobi  gor- 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


447 


jctly 

ulli- 

nce, 
who 
1  his 
com- 
le  ol 
the 
gor- 


geous and  picturesque  style.  The  duke  of  Buckingham,  who,  though  very 
wealthy,  was  pot  fond  of  parting  with  his  money,  found  the  expenses  to 
which  he  was  put  on  this  occasion  so  intolerable,  that  he  expressed  him- 
self 80  angrily  towards  Wolsey  as  led  to  his  execution  some  time  af»er, 
though  nominally  for  a  different  offence. 

The  meetings  between  the  monarchs  were  for  some  time  regulated  with 
the  most  jealous  and  wearisome  attention  to  strict  etiquette.  At  length 
Francis,  attended  by  only  two  of  his  gentlemen  and  a  page,  rode  into 
Henry's  quarters.  Henry  was  delighted  at  this  proof  of  his  brother-mon- 
arch's confidence,  and  threw  upon  his  neck  a  pearl  collar  worth  five  or  six 
thousand  pounds,  which  Francis  repaid  by  the  present  of  an  armlet  worth 
twice  as  much.     So  profuse  and  gorgeous  were  these  young  kings. 

While  Henry  remained  at  Calais  he  received  another  visit  from  the  em 
peror  Charles.  That  artful  monarch  had  now  completed  the  good  impres 
sion  he  had  already  made  upon  both  Henry  and  Cardir.al  Wolsey,  by  of- 
fering to  leave  all  dispute  between  himself  and  France  to  the  arbitration 
of  Henry,  as  well  as  by  assuring  Wolsey  of  the  papacy  at  some  future 
day,  and  putting  him  into  instant  possession  of  the  revenues  of  the  bish- 
oprics of  Badajos  and  Placencia.  The  result  was,  that  the  emperor  made 
demands  of  the  most  extravagant  nature,  well  knowing  that  France  would 
not  comply  with  them ;  and  when  the  negotiations  were  thus  broken  off, 
a  treaty  was  made  between  the  emperor  and  Henry,  by  which  the  daughter 
of  the  latter,  the  princess  Mary,  was  betrothed  to  the  former,  and  Kngland 
was  bound  to  invade  France  with  an  army  of  forty  thousand  men.  This 
treaty  alone,  by  the  very  exorbitancy  of  its  injuriousness  to  England, 
would  sufficiently  show  at  once  the  power  of  Wolsny  over  his  king  and 
the  extent  to  which  he  was  ready  to  exert  that  power. 

The  duke  of  Buckingham,  who  had  imprudently  given  offence  to  the 
all-powerful  cardinal,  was  a  man  of  turbulent  temper,  and  very  imprudent 
in  expressing  himself,  by  which  means  he  afforded  abundant  evidence  for 
his  own  ruin.  It  was  proved  that  he  had  provided  arms  with  the  intent 
to  disturb  the  government,  and  that  he  had  even  threatened  the  life  of  the 
king,  to  whom  he  thought  himself,  as  being  descended  in  the  female  line 
from  the  youngest  son  of  Edward  the  Third,  to  he  the  rightful  successor 
should  the  king  die  without  issue.  Far  less  real  guilt  than  this,  ai  :ed  by 
the  enmity  of  such  a  man  as  Wolsey,  would  have  sufficed  to  ruin  Buck- 
ingham, who  was  condemned,  and,  to  the  great  discontent  of  the  people, 
executed. 

A.  D.  1521. — We  have  already  mentioned  t  ■  ^  Henry  in  his  youth  had 
been  jealously  secluded  from  all  share  in  pul;.ii;  business.  He  derived 
from  this  circumstance  the  advantage  of  far  more  scholastic  learning  than 
commonly  fell  to  the  lot  of  princes,  and  circuinslances  now  occurred  to 
set  his  literary  attainments  and  proponsitics  in  a  striking  light.  Leo  X. 
having  published  a  general  indulgence,  circumstances  (jf  a  merely  per- 
sonal interest  caused  Arcemboldi,  a  Gt  i,:  -se,  then  a  bishop  but  originally 
a  merchant,  who  farmed  the  collection  of  the  money  in  Saxony  and  the 
countries  on  the  Baltic,  to  cause  the  prcai;liing  for  the  indnlucnces  to  be 
given  totlie  Dominicans, instead  of  to  the  August incs  who  had  usually  en- 
joyed that  privilege.  Martin  Luther,  m\  Augusline  friar,  f<>eling  himself 
and  his  whole  order  affronted  by  this  change,  preaclicd  against  if,  and  in- 
veighed against  certain  vices  of  life,  of  wliich,  probably,  the  Dominicans 
reahy  were  guilty,  though  not  more  so  than  the  Augustincs.  His  spirited 
and  coarse  censures  provoked  the  censured  onlcr  to  reply,  and  as  they 
dwelt  nuich  upon  the  papal  authority,  as  an  all-sufficient  answer  to  Lu- 
ther, he  was  induced  to  question  that  authority  ;  and  us  he  extended  his 
reading  he  found  cause  for  more  and  more  extended  complaint ;  so  that 
he  who  at  first  had  merely  complained  of  a  wrong  done  to  a  particular  or- 
der of  churchmen,  speedily  declared  himself  against  much  of  the  doctrine 


446 


THE  TREASJ/rtY  OF  HISTOEY 


and  discipline  of  the  church  itself,  as  being  corrupt  and  of  merely  human 
invention  for  evil  human  purposes.  From  Germany  the  new  doctiines  of 
Luther  quieitly  spread  »  .  the  rest  of  Europe,  and  found  many  proselytes 
in  England.  Henry,  however,  was  the  last  man  in  his  dominion"  who 
was  likely  to  assent  to  Luther's  arguments;  as  a  scholar,  and  as  an  ex- 
tremely despjtic  monarch,  he  was  alike  shocked  by  them.  He  not  only 
exerted  himself  to  prevent  the  Lutheran  heresies,  as  he  termed  and  no 
doubt  thought  them,  from  taking  root  in  England,  but  also  wrote  a  book 
in  Latin  against  ihem.  This  book,  which  would  have  been  by  no  means 
discreditable  to  an  older  and  more  professional  polemic,  Henry  sent  to  the 
pope,  who,  cliarmed  by  the  ability  displayed  by  so  illustrious  an  advocate  of 
the  papal  cause,  conferred  upon  him  the  proud  title  of  Defender  of  the  Faith, 
which  has  ever  since  been  borne  by  our  monarchs.  Lutiier,  who  was  not 
of  a  temper  to  quail  before  rank,  replied  to  Henry  with  great  force  and 
with  but  l:ttle  decency,  and  Henry  was  thus  made  personally  as  well  as 
scholastically  an  opponent  of  the  new  doctrines.  But  those  doctrines  in- 
volved so  many  consequences  favourable  to  human  liberty  and  flaitering 
to  human  pride  that  neither  scholastic  nor  kingly  power  could  prevent 
their  spread,  which  was  much  facilitated  by  the  recent  invention  of  print- 
ing. The  progress  of  the  new  opinions  was  still  farther  favoured  by  tlm 
death  of  the  vigorous  and  gifted  Leo  X.,  and  by  the  succession  to  the  papal 
throne  of  Adrian,  who  was  so  far  from  being  inclined  to  go  too  far  in  tiie 
support  of  the  establishment,  that  he  candidly  ad.iiitted  the  necessity  for 
much  reformation. 

A.  D.  1522.— The  emperor,  fearing  lest  Wolsey's  disappoinment  of  the 
papal  throne  should  injure  the  imperial  interests  in  England,  again  came 
hither,  prof-osedly  only  on  a  visit  of  compliment,  but  really  to  forward  his 
politicai  interests.  He  paid  assiduous  court,  not  only  to  Henry,  but  also 
to  Wolsey,  to  whom  he  pointed  out  that  the  age  and  infirmities  of  Adrian 
rendered  another  vacancy  likely  soon  to  occur  on  the  papal  throne;  and 
Wolsey  saw  it  to  be  his  interest  to  dissemble  the  indignant  vexation  his 
disappointment  had  really  caused  him.  The  emperor  in  consequence  suc- 
ceeded in  his  wishes  of  retaining  Henry's  alliance,  and  of  causing  him  to 
declare  war  against  France.  Lord  Surrey  entered  France  with  an  army 
which,  with  reniforcemenis  from  tlie  Low  Countries,  nuijibered  eighteeu 
thousand  men.  But  the  operations  by  no  means  corresponded  in  impor- 
tance to  the  force  assembled  ;  and,  after  losing  a  great  number  of  men  by 
sickness,  Surrey  went  into  winter  quarters  in  the  month  of  October  with- 
out having  made  himself  master  of  a  single  place  in  France. 

When  France  was  at  war  with  England,  there  was  but  little  probability 
of  Scotland  remaining  quiet.  Albany,  who  had  arrived  from  France  es- 
pecially with  a  view  to  vexing  the  northern  frontier  of  England,  summoiicil 
all  the  Scottish  force  that  could  be  raised,  marched  into  Annandale,  and 
prepared  to  cross  into  England  at  Solway  Frith.  But  the  storm  was 
averted  from  England  by  the  discontents  of  the  Scottish  nobles,  who  com- 
plained that  the  interests  of  Scotland  shotdd  be  expo'^ed  to  all  the  dsnger 
of  a  contest  with  so  superior  a  power  as  England,  merely  for  Uie  advan- 
age  of  a  foreign  power.  So  strongly,  indeed,  did  the  Gordons  and  other 
powerful  clansmen  express  their  discontents  on  this  head,  that  Albany 
made  a  truce  with  the  English  warden,  the  lord  Dacre,  and  returned  to 
France,  taking  the  precaution  of  sending  thither  before  him  the  earl  of 
Angus,  husband  of  the  queen  dowager. 

A.  D.  1523. — With  only  an  infant  king,  and  witli  their  regent  absent 
from  the  kingdom,  the  Scots  laboured  under  the  additional  disadvantage 
of  being  divided  into  almost  as  many  factions  as  they  numbered  potent 
and  noble  families.  Taking  advantage  of  this  melancholy  slate  of  tilings 
in  Scotland,  Flenry  sent  to  that  country  a  powerful  force  under  the  earl  of 
burrey,  who  marched  without  opposition  into  the  Merse  and  Tevioldale, 


a  St 
lont 
hoii« 
on 
mai 
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tagui 
moni 
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form 
It 
oruta 
the 

Pll.S.Sf 


THE  TREASUEY  OF  HISTORY. 


4'V 


by 


absent 
ntiigo 
Doleiii 
ihing* 
dii  of 
Dlclale, 


bufncd  the  town  '»f  Jedburgh,  and  ravaged  the  whole  country  round. 
Henry  endciivoured  to  improve  his  present  superiority  over  the  Scots,  by 
bringing  about  a  marriage  between  his  only  daughter,  the  young  princess 
Mary,  and  the  inrant  king  of  Scotland ;  a  measure  which  would  at  once 
have  put  an  end  to  all  contrariciy  of  interests  as  to  the  two  countries,  by 
uniting  them,  as  naturn  evidently  intended  them  to  be,  into  one  state. 
But  liie  friends  of  Franco  opposed  this  measure  so  warmly,  that  the  queen 
dowager,  who  had  every  possible  motive  for  wislii'iij-  to  comply  with  it, 
both  as  favouring  her  brother,  and  promising  an  otherwise  unattainable 
prosperity  to  the  future  reign  of  her  son,  was  unable  to  bring  it  about. 
The  partizans  of  England  and  France  were  nearly  equal  in  power,  if  not 
in  number  ;  and  while  they  still  debated  the  question,  it  was  decided  against 
Kngland  by  the  arrival  of  Albany.  He  raised  troop."  and  made  some  show 
of  battle,  but  there  was  little  actual  fighting.  Disgusted  with  the  factions 
into  which  the  people  were  divided,  Albany  at  length  retired  again  to 
France  ;  and  Henry  having  enough  to  do  in  his  war  with  tliat  country,  was 
well  content  to  give  up  Iiis  notion  of  a  Scottish  alliance,  and  to  rely  upon 
the  Scots  being  busy  with  their  own  feuds,  as  his  best  security  against 
their  henceforth  attempting  any  serious  diversion  in  favour  of  France. 
In  truth,  Henry,  as  wealthy  as  lie  had  been  at  the  comineiicement  of 
his  reign,  had  been  so  profuse  in  his  pursuit  of  pleasure,  that  he  had  now 
no  means  of  prosecuting  war  with  any  considerable  vigour  even  against 
France  alone.  Thougli,  in  many  respects,  possessed  of  actual  despotic 
power,  Henry  had  to  suffer  the  usual  inconvenience  of  poverty.  At  one 
time  he  issued  privy  seals  demanding  loans  of  certain  sums  from  wealthy 
men;  at  another  he  demanded  a  loan  of  five  shillings  in  the  pound 
from  the  clergy,  and  of  two  shillings  in  the  pound  from  the  laity. 
Though  nominally  loans,  these  sums  were  really  to  be  considered  as 
gifts ;  impositions  at  once  so  large,  so  arbitrary,  and  so  liable  to 
be  repeated  at  any  period,  necessarily  caused  much  discontent.  Soon 
after  this  last  expedient  for  raising  money  without  the  consent  of  parlia- 
ment, he  summoned  a  convocation  and  a  parliament.  From  the  former, 
Wolsey,  relying  upon  his  high  power  and  influence  as  cardinal  and  arch- 
Dishop,  demanded  ten  shillings  in  the  pound  on  the  ecclesiastical  revenue, 
to  be  levied  in  dve  years.  The  clergy  murmured,  but,  as  Wolsey  had  an- 
ieipated,  a  few  sharp  words  from  him  silenced  all  objections,  ai;d  what  he 
demanded  was  grantee.  Having  thus  far  succeeded,  Wolsey  now,  at- 
tended by  several  lords,  spiritual  and  temporal,  addressed  the  house  of 
commons  ;  dilating  upon  the  wants  of  the  king,  and  upon  tlie  disadvan- 
tageous position  in  which  those  vvants  placed  him  with  respect  to  both 
France  and  Scotland,  lie  demanded  a  grant  of  two  hundred  thousand 
pounds  per  annum  for  four  years.  After  mucii  hesitation  and  murmuring, 
thecominuns  granted  only  one  half  the  requirei  jum;  and  here  occurred 
a  striking  proof  of  the  spirit  of  independence,  which,  though  it  was  very 
loiii^  in  growing  to  its  present  height,  !iad  already  been  produced  in  the 
house  of  commons  by  its  possession  of  the  power  of  the  purse.  W^olsey, 
on  learning  how  littli3  the  commons  had  voted  towards  what  he  luid  de- 
manded, required  to  be  allowed  to  "reason"  with  the  house,  but  was 
gravely,  and  with  real  dignity,  informed,  that  the  house  of  conimons  could 
reason  only  among  its  own  members.  But  Henry  sent  for  Edward  Mon- 
tague, an  influential  member,  und  coarsely  threatened  him  that  if  ilie  com- 
mons did  net  vote  better  on  the  loUowing  day,  Montiigue  should  lose  his 
head.  This  tlireat  caused  the  oommons  to  advance  gomewhat  on  their 
former  offers,  though  thoy  still  fell  far  short  of  the  sum  originally  asked. 

It  may  be  presumed  tluit  Henry  was  partly  goaded  to  his  violent  and 

orntal  threat  to  Montague  by  very  ui-gent  necessity  ;  among  the  items  of 

Ihe  amount  granted,  was  a  levy  of  three  shillings  in  the  pound  on  all  who 

pussessfc!  fifty  pounds  per  annum,  and  though  this  was  to  be  levied  ia 

Vol.  I.— 29 


4A0 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


n 


fiMir  years,  Henry  levied  the  whole  of  it  in  the  very  year  in  which  it  vnt 
granted. 

While  Wolsey— for  to  him  the  people  attributed  every  act  of  the  king- 
was  thus  powerful  in  Kngland,  either  very  great  treachery  on  the  part  ol 
the  emperor,  or  a  most  invincible  misfortune,  rendered  him  constantly  un- 
successful as  to  the  great  object  of  his  ambition,  the  papal  throne.  It  now 
again  became  vacant  by  the  death  of  Adrian,  but  this  new  awakening  of 
his  hope  was  merely  the  prelude  to  a  new  and  bitter  disappointment.  He 
was  again  passed  over,  and  one  of  tlie  De  Medicis  ascended  the  papal 
throne  under  the  title  of  Clement  VH.  Wolsey  was  well  aware  that  this 
election  took  place  with  the  concurrence  of  the  imperial  party,  and  he, 
therefore,  determined  to  turn  Henry  from  the  alliance  of  the  emperor  to 
that  of  France.  When  we  consider  how  much  more  preferable  the  French 
alliance  was,  as  regarded  the  interests  and  happiness  of  millions  of  human 
beings,  it  is  at  once  a  subject  of  indignation  and  of  self-distrust  to  reflect, 
that  the  really  profound  and  far-seeing  cardinal  was  determined  to  it,  only 
by  the  same  paltry  personal  feeling  that  might  animate  a  couple  of  small 
squires  in  a  hunting  field,  or  their  wives  at  an  assize  ball.  But  he  never 
really  comprehends  the  teachings  of  history,  luho  is  nut  wdl  informed  upon  the 
personal  foclings,  and  very  capable  of  making  a^'cwancefor  the  personal  errors 
of  the  great  actors  in  the  drama  of  nations. 

Disappointed  in  the  great  object  of  Iva  ambition,  Wolsey  affected  tlie 
utmost  approval  of  the  election  which  had  so  much  mortified  him,  and  he 
applied  to  Clement  for  a  continuation  of  that  legatiiif^  power  which  had 
now  been  entrusted  to  him  by  two  popes,  and  Clemenl  granted  it  to  him 
for  life,  a  great  and  most  unusual  compliment. 

A.  D.  1525, — Though  Henry's  war  with  France  was  productive  of  much 
expense  of  both  blood  and  treasure,  the  English  share  in  it  was  so  little 
brilliant,  that  there  is  no  necessity  for  our  entering  here  into  details,  M'hich 
must,  of  necessity,  be  given  in  another  place.  We  need  only  remark 
that  the  defeat  and  captivity  of  Francis  at  the  great  battle  of  Pavia,  in  the 
previous  year,  would  have  been  improved  by  Wolsey,  to  the  probable 
conquest  of  France,  but  for  the  deep  offence  he  had  received  from  the 
emperor,  which  caused  him  to  represent  to  Henry  the  importance  to  him 
of  France  as  a  counterbalancing  power  to  the  emperor.  He  successfully 
appealed  to  the  powerful  passions  of  Henry,  by  pointing  out  proofs  of 
coldness  and  of  increased  assumption  in  the  style  of.the  emperor's  letters 
subsequent  to  the  battle  of  Pavia ;  and  Henry  was  still  more  determined 
by  this  merely  personal  argument  than  he  had  been  by  even  the  cogent 
political  one.  The  result  was  that  Henry  made  a  treaty  with  the  mother 
of  Francis,  who  had  been  left  by  him  as  regent,  in  which  he  undertook  to 
procure  the  liberty  of  Francis  on  reasonable  terms  ;  while  she  acknowl- 
edged Henry  creditor  of  France  to  the  a^iount  of  nearly  two  millions  o| 
crowns,  which  bue  undertook  to  pay  at  mc  rate  of  fifty  thousand  in  every 
six  months.  Wolsey,  besides  gratifying  h's  spleen  against  the  emperor 
in  bringing  about  this  treaty  with  France,  procured  the  more  solid  grati- 
fication of  a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  paid  to  him  under  the  name  ol 
arrears  of  a  pension  granted  to  him  on  the  giving  up  of  Tournay,  as  men- 
tioned in  its  proper  place  in  this  history. 

As  it  was  very  probable  tha  ,  this  treaty  with  France  would  lead  to  a 
war  with  the  emperor,  Henry  issued  a  commission  for  levying  a  tax  ol 
four  shillings  in  the  pound  upon  the  clergy,  and  three-and-fourpence  upon 
the  laity.  As  this  heavy  demand  caused  great  murmuring,  he  took  care 
to  have  it  made  known  that  he  desired  this  money  only  in  the  way  of  be- 
nevolence. But  people,  by  this  time,  understood  that  loan,  benevolence,  and 
tax  were  only  diflferent  names  for  the  one  solid  mutter  of  ready  money,  and 
the  murmuring  did  not  cease.  In  some  parts  of  the  country,  the  people, 
indeed,  broke  out  into  open  revolt ;  but  as  they  had  no  wealthy  or  inflii- 


Fr 

til 
va 
ac 
An 
he 
th( 
dis 
«li 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Ml 


to  a 
tax  01 
e  upon 
k  caie 
of  he- 
ce,  and 
!ej/,and 
(people, 
Ir  influ- 


ential leader,  the  king's  officers  and  friends  put  them  down,  and  Henry 
pardoned  the  ringleaders  on  the  politic  pretence  that  poverty,  and  not 
wilful  disloyalty,  had  led  them  astray. 

A.  D.  1527. — Though  Henry  had  now  so  many  years  lived  with  his  queen 
in  all  apparent  cordiality  and  contentment,  several  circumstances  had  oc- 
curred to  give  him  doubts  as  to  the  legality  of  their  marriage.  When  the 
emperor  Charles  had  proposed  to  espouse  Henry's  daughter,  the  young 
princess  Mary,  the  states  of  Castile  objected  to  her  as  being  illegitimate ; 
and  the  same  objection  was  subsequently  made  by  France,  when  it  was 
proposed  to  ally  her  to  the  prince  of  that  country. 

It  is,  we  think,  usual  too  readily  to  take  it  for  granted  that  Henry  was, 
from  the  first,  prompted  to  seek  the  dissolution  of  this  marriage,  merely 
by  a  libertine  and  sensual  disposition.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  queen  was 
considerably  older  than  he,  and  that  her  beauty  was  not  remarkable ;  and 
it  may  be  quite  true  that  those  circumstances  were  among  his  motives. 
But  it  should  not  be  forgotten  that  he  had  studied  deeply,  and  that  his  fa- 
vourite author,  Thomas  Aquinas,  spoke  in  utter  reprobation  of  the  marry- 
ing by  a  man  of  his  brother's  widow,  as  denounced  in  the  book  of  Leviti- 
cus. The  energetic  reprobation  of  an  author  of  whom  he  was  accustomed 
to  think  so  reverently  was,  of  course,  not  weakened  by  the  rejection  of 
his  daughter  by  both  Spain  and  France,  on  the  ground  of  the  incestuous 
marriage  of  her  parents,  and  Henry  at  length  became  so  desirous  to  have 
some  authoritative  settlement  of  his  doubts,  that  he  caused  the  question  to 
be  mooted  before  the  prelates  of  England,  who,  with  the  single  exception 
of  Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester,  subscribed  to  the  opinion  that  the  mar- 
riage was  ab  inceplo  illegal  and  null.  While  Henry's  conscientious  scru- 
ple was  thus  strongly  confirmed,  his  desire  to  get  his  marriage  formally 
and  effectually  annulled  was  greatly  increased  by  his  falling  in  love  with 
Anne  Boleyn,  a  young  lady  of  great  beauty  and  accomplishments.  Her 
parents  were  conm  cted  with  some  of  the  best  families  in  the  nation,  her 
father  had  several  times  been  honourably  employed  abroad  by  the  king, 
and  the  young  lady  herself,  to  her  very  great  misfortune,  was,  at  this  time, 
one  of  the  maids  of  honour  to  the  queen.  That  we  are  correct  in  believ- 
ing Henry  to  be  less  the  mere  and  willing  slave  of  passion  than  he  has 
generally  been  represented,  seems  to  be  clear  from  the  single  fact,  that 
there  is  no  instance  of  his  showing  that  contempt  for  the  virtue  of 
the  court  females  sd  common  in  the  case  of  monarchs.  He  no  sooner  saw 
Anne  Boleyn  than  he  desired  her,  not  as  a  mistress,  but  as  a  wife,  and 
that  desire  made  him  more  than  ever  anxious  to  dissolve  his  marriage  with 
Catherine.  He  now,  therefore,  applied  to  the  pope  for  a  divorce,  upon  the 
ground,  not  merely  of  the  incestuous  nature  of  the  marriage — as  that  might 
have  seemed  to  question  or  to  limit  the  dispensing  power  of  Rome — but 
on  the  ground  that  the  bull  which  had  authorised  it  had  been  obtained  un- 
der false  pretences,  which  were  clearly  proven ;  a  ground  which  had  al- 
ways been  held  by  Rome  to  be  sufficient  to  authorise  the  nullifying  of  a 
bull.  Clement,  the  pope,  was,  at  this  time,  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the 
emperor,  and  his  chief  hope  of  obtaining  his  release  on  such  terms  as 
would  render  it  desirable  or  honourable  rested  on  the  exertions  of  Henry, 
Francis,  and  the  states  with  which  they  were  in  alliance.  Tlie  pope, 
tiierefore,  was  desirous  to  conciliate  Henry's  favour  ;  but  he  was  timid, 
vacillating,  an  Italian,  and  an  adept  in  that  dissimulation  which  is  so  char- 
acteristic of  men  who  add  constitutional  timidity  to  intellectual  power. 
Anxious  to  conciliiite  Henry  by  granting  the  divorce,  he  was  fearful  lest 
lie  should  enrage  the  emperor — Queen  Catherine's  nephew — by  doing  s.> ; 
the  consequence  was,  a  long  series  of  expedients,  delays,  promises,  and 
disappoiiilnienls,  tedious  to  read  of  in  even  the  most  elaborate  histories,  and 
which,  to  relate  here,  would  be  an  injurious  waste  of  space  and  time. 

The  cardinal  Campeggio  was  at  length  johied  with  Wolsey  in  a  con> 


452 


THK  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


V  I 


mission  to  try  the  affnir  in  EiiglaniJ.  The  two  leffatps  opened  thoir  court 
in  London  ;  hoth  the  queen  and  Henry  were  snminoncd  to  iipprar,  and  a 
mo.U  painful  scene  took  place.  When  their  majesties  were  called  hy  name 
in  the  court,  Catherine  left  her  seat  ;.nd  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  ihe 
kinc  recalled  to  his  memory  how  she  had  entered  his  dominions,  leaving 
nil  i.onds  and  8uppf)rt  to  depend  upon  him  alone;  how  for  twenty  years 
she  had  heen  a  faithful,  lovinj/,  and  obedient  wife.  She  impressed  upon 
him  Ihe  fact  that  the  marriapt  between  her  and  his  elder  brother  had,  in 
truth,  been  but  such  a  mere  (ormal  betrothal  as  in  innumerable  other  cases 
had  been  held  no  bar  to  subsequent  marriage ;  that  both  their  fathers,  cs- 
teemed  the  wisest  princes  in  Christendom,  had  consented  to  their  marriage, 
which  they  would  not  have  done  unless  well  advised  of  its  propriety  ;  and 
she  concluded  by  saying,  that  being  well  assured  that  she  had  no  reason 
to  expect  justice  from  a  court  at  the  disposal  of  her  enemies,  so  never 
more  would  she  app<  ;ii  'jefore  it. 

After  the  departure  of  the  queen  the  trial  proceeded.  It  was  prolonged 
from  week  to  week,  and  from  month  to  month,  by  the  arts  of  Caiupeggio, 
acting  by  the  instructions  of  Clement,  who  employed  th(!  time  in  making 
his  arrangements  with  the  emperor  for  his  own  benefit,  and  that  of  the 
De  Medicis  in  general.  Having  succeeded  in  doing  this,  he,  to  Henry's 
great  astonishment,  evoked  the  cause  to  Home  on  the  queen's  appeal,  just 
as  every  one  expected  the  legates  to  pronounce  for  the  uivorce.  Henry 
was  greatly  enraged  at  Wolsey  on  account  of  this  result.  Ho  had  so  long 
been  accustomed  to  see  the  cardinal  successful  in  whatever  Ik;  attempted, 
that  he  attributed  his  present  failure  rather  to  treachery  than  to  wnnf  of 
judgment.  The  great  seal  was  shortly  taken  from  him  and  given  to  Sir 
Thomas  More,  and  he  was  ordered  to  give  up  to  the  king  his  stately  and 
gorgeously  furnished  palace  called  Vjrk-Honse,  which  was  converted  into 
a  royal  residence,  niider  the  name  of  Whitehall.  The  wealth  seized  jn 
this  one  residence  of  the  cardinal  was  immense  ;  his  plate  was  of  resral 
splendour,  and  included  what  indeed  not  every  king  could  boast,  one  per- 
fect cupboard  of  massive  gold.  His  furniture  and  other  effects  were  nu- 
merous and  costly  in  proportion,  as  may  be  judged  from  the  single  item 
of  one  thousand  pieces  of  fine  Holland  cloth!  The  possessor  of  all  this 
wealth,  however,  was  a  ruined  man  now  ;  in  the  privacy  of  his  compara- 
tively mean  country  house  at  Ksh< m-,  in  Surrey,  he  was  unvisited  and  un- 
noticed by  those  courtiers  who  had  so  eagerly  crowded  around  him  while 
he  was  yet  distinguished  by  the  king's  favour.  But  if  ih(!  ingratitude  of 
his  friends  left  him  iimJisturbed  in  hi.s  solitude,  the  activity  of  his  foes  did 
not  let  him  rest  even  there.  Tiie  kinu  had  not  as  yet  de|)rived  liini  ol 
his  sees,  and  had.  moreover,  sent  him  a  ring  and  a,  kind  nicssai'e. 
His  enemies,  therefore,  fearful  lest  he  should  even  yet  recover  his  lost  la- 
vour,  and  so  acquire  the  power  to  repay  their  ill  services,  took  every 
method  to  prejudice  him  in  liie  eyes  of  the  king,  who  at  length  abaiuhnuni 
hini  to  the  power  of  parliament.  The  lords  passed  forty-four  articles 
against  him,  of  which  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  there  was  not  one 
which  might  not  have  heen  explained  away,  had  anything  like  legal  form 
or  proof  been  called  for  or  considered.  Amid  Ihe  general  and  shainerul 
abandonments  of  Wolsey  by  those  who  had  so  lately  fawned  upon  linn, 
it  is  delightful  to  have  to  record,  that  when  these  articles  were  sent  down 
to  the  house  of  co.nnions,  the  oppressed  and  abandoned  cardinal  was 
warmly  and  ably  defended  by  Thomas  Cromwell,  whom  his  palronage 
had  raised  from  a  very  low  origin.  All  defence,  however,  was  vain  ;  the 
parliament  pronounced  "That  he  was  out  of  the  king's  protection;  tlia) 
ins  lands  and  goods  were  forfeited ;  and  that  his  person  might  be  cuimnit 
ted  to  custody." 

From  Eslier,  Wolsey  removed  to  Richmond,  hut  his  enemies  had  him 
wdcred  to  Vorkshiie,  where  ho  lived  in  great  modesty  at  Cawood.     But 


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TIIK  TIIKA8URY  OF  HI8TOHY. 


4A3 


.If  kiiiif's  (lifTtTfiue'i  with  Hnuw.  were  now  cvt-ry  iliiy  Rrowing  griMUT, 
iml  Ik*  laMly  liHiciRul  to  lliosr  who  iiHsun'il  hiiii  Ihiit  ih  tiiiiilly  HliakiiiK  *'f^ 
All  coiiiiectioii  with  tho  holy  hlu,  he  wouUl  encounter  powerful  oppuHitioii 
from  (he  cnrdiniil.  An  order  wan  JMsucd  fur  his  aire >t  on  a  charge  of  hii{h 
trca.-^oM,  and  it  in  very  prohahle  that  hiH  death  on  the  scalfold  would  have 
been  added  to  the  »*taiiis  Ufioii  Henry's  memory,  but  that  the  harrasHed 
fniine  of  the  eanlinal  xunk  under  the  alarm  and  faiigue  of  hia  arrest  anil 
forced  journey,  lie  was  conveyed  by  Sir  VVilliain  Kingston,  eon'jlable  of 
the  Ti.v.  er,  as  far  as  Leicester  abbey.  Mere  his  illness  became  so  extreme 
that  lie  could  Ix;  got  no  farther,  and  here  he.  yiehled  up  his  breath  soon 
after  he  had  sjioken  to  Sir  William  Kinuston  this  memorable  and  touch- 
ing caution  against  an  undue  worUll  v  ambition  : 

'•I  pray  you  have  me  heartily  recoifiniended  unto  his  royal  majesty,  and 
beseech  nim,  on  my  behalf,  to  call  to  is  remembrance  all  matters  that 
have  passed  between  us  from  ili>  beu  tnung,  especially  with  regard  to  hiet 
Ijusiness  with  the  queen,  and  il  '  know  in  his  conscience  whether 


'nost  royal  carriage,  and  hath  a 
)t  want  any  part  of  his  will, 
m.  I  do  assure  you  that  I 
iiree  hours  together,  to  per 

ould  not  prevail.     Had  I  but 


I  have  offended  him.     lie  is  a 

[iriiicely  heart;  and  rather  thai 
le  will  endanger  the  one  half  i. 
have  often  kneeled  before  him, 
suade  him  from  his  will  and  appcuiu,  ttul 

served  (iod  as  diligently  as  I  have  serveii  the  king,  he  would  not  have 
given  me  over  in  my  grey  hairs.  But  tiiis  is  the  just  reward  that  I  must 
receive  for  my  indulgent  pains  and  study,  not  regarding  my  duty  to  God, 
but  only  to  my  prince.  Therefore,  let  me  advise  you,  if  you  be  one  of 
the  privy  council,  as  by  your  wisdom  you  are  fit,  take  care  what  you  put 
into  the  king's  head,  for  you  can  never  put  it  out  again."  Touching  and 
pregnant  testimony  of  a  dying  man,  of  no  ordinary  wisdom,  to  the  hollow- 
iiess  with  which  all  the  unrighteous  ends  of  ambition  appear  clad,  when 
llie  votary  of  this  world  receives  the  final  and  irrevocable  summons  to  the 
brighter  and  purer  world  beyond ! 


;  s'' 


CHAPTER  XLl. 

"  THE    REIGN  OF  HENKY  Vllt.    (CONTINUED.) 

Naturally  too  fond  of  authority  to  feel  without  impatience  the  neavy 
yoke  of  Rome,  the  opposition  he  had  so  signally  experienced  in  the  mat- 
ter of  his  divorce  had  enraged  Henry  so  much,  that  he  gave  every  encour- 
agement to  the  parliament  to  abridge  the  exorbitant  privileges  of  the 
clergy;  in  domg  which,  he  equally  pleased  himself  in  mortifying  Rome, 
ami  in  paving  the  wfy  for  that  entire  independence  of  the  papal  power,  of 
which  every  day  made  him  more  desirous.  The  parliament  was  equally 
ready  to  depress  the  clergy,  and  several  bills  were  passed  which  tended 
to  make  the  laity  more  independent  of  them.  The  parliament,  about  this 
time,  passed  another  bill  to  acquit  the  king  of  all  claims  on  account  of 
those  exactions  which  he  had  speciously  called  loans. 

While  Henry  was  agitated  between  the  wish  to  break  with  Rome,  and 
the  opposing  unwillingness  to  give  so  plain  a  contradiction  to  all  that  he 
had  advanced  in  the  book  which  had  procured  him  tho  flatteiing  title  of 
Defender  of  the  Faith,  he  was  informed  tliat  Dr.  Cranmer,  a  fellow  of  Jesus' 
College,  Cambridge,  and  a  man  of  good  repute,  both  as  to  life  and  learning, 
•lad  suggested  that  all  the  universities  of  Europe  should  be  consulted  as 
to  the  legality  of  Henry's  marriage ;  if  the  decision  were  in  favour  of  it, 
the  king's  qualms  of  conscience  must  needs  disappear  before  such  a  host 
of  learning  and  judgment ;  if  the  opinion  were  against  it,  equally  must 
the  hesitation  of  Rome  as  to  granting  the  divorce  be  shamed  away.     On 


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THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


hearing  this  opinion  Henry,  in  his  bluff  way,  exclaimed  that  Cranmer  had 
taken  the  riffht  sow  by  the  ear,  sent  for  him  to  court,  and  was  so  well 
pleased  with  him  as  to  employ  him  to  write  in  favour  of  the  divorce,  and 
to  superintend  the  course  he  had  himself  sugfgested. 

A.  D.  1532.— The  measures  taken  by  parliament,  with  the  evident  good- 
will of  the  king,  were  so  obviously  tending  towards  a  total  separation 
from  Rome,  that  Sir  Thomas  More,  the  chancellor,  resigned  the  great 
seal;  that  able  man  being  devotedly  attached  to  the  papal  authority,  and 
clearly  seeing  that  he  could  no  longer  retain  office  but  at  the  risk  of  being 
called  upon  to  act  against  the  pope. 

At  Rome  the  measures  of  Henry  were  not  witnessed  without  anxiety; 
and  while  the  emperor's  agents  did  all  in  their  power  to  determine  the  pope 
against  Henry,  the  more  cautious  members  of  the  conclave  advised  that  a 
favour  often  granted  to  meaner  princes,  should  not  be  denied  to  him  who 
had  heretofore  been  so  good  a  son  of  the  church,  and  who,  if  driven  to  des- 
peration, might  wholly  alienate  from  the  papacy  the  most  precious  of  all 
the  states  over  which  it  held  sway. 

But  the  time  for  conciliating  Henry  was  now  gone  by.  He  had  an 
interview  with  the  king  of  France,  in  which  they  renewed  their  personal 
friendship,  and  agreed  upon  the  measures  of  mutual  defence,  and  Henry 
privately  married  Anne  Boleyn,  whom  he  had  previously  created  countess 
of  Pembroke. 

A.  D.  1533. — The  new  wife  of  Henry  proving  pregnant,  Cranmer,  now 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  directed  to  hold  a  court  at  Dunstable  to 
decide  on  the  invalidity  of  the  marriage  of  Catherine,  who  lived  at  Ampt- 
hill  in  that  neighbourhood.  If  this  court  were  anything  but  a  mere  mock- 
ery, reasonable  men  argued,  its  decision  should  surely  have  preceded  and 
not  followed  the  second  marriage.  But  the  king's  will  was  absolute,  and 
the  opinions  of  the  universities  and  the  judgment  of  the  convocations  hav- 
ing been  formally  read,  and  both  opinions  and  judgment  being  against 
Catherine's  marriage,  it  was  now  solemnly  annulled.  Soon  after,  the  new 
queen  was  delivered  of  a  daughter,  the  afterwards  wise  and  powerful 
Queen  Elizabeth. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  formalities  that  had  been  brought  to  bear  against 
her  rights.  Queen  Catherine,  who  was  as  resolute  as  she  was  otherwise 
amiable,  refused  to  be  styled  aught  but  queen  of  England,  and  to  the  day 
of  her  death,  compelled  her  servants,  and  all  who  had  the  privilege  of  ap- 
proaching her,  to  address  and  treat  her  as  their  queen. 

The  enemies  of  Henry  at  Rome  urged  the  pope  anew  to  pronounce  sen- 
tence of  excommunication  against  him.  But  Clement's  niece  was  now 
married  to  the  second  son  of  the  king  of  France,  who  spoke  to  the  pope  in 
Henry's  favtmr.  Clement,  therefore,  for  the  present,  confined  his  severity 
to  issuing  a  sentence  nullifying  Cranmer's  senteiKie,  and  the  marriage  of 
Henry  to  Anne  Boleyn,  and  threatening  to  excommunicate  him  should 
he  not  restore  his  affairs  to  their  former'footing  by  a  certain  day. 

A.  D.  1535. — As  Henry  had  still  some  strong  leanings  to  the  church,  and 
as  it  was  obviously  much  to  the  interest  of  Rome  not  wholly  to  lose  its 
influence  over  so  wealthy  a  nation  as  England,  there  even  yet  seemed 
to  be  some  chance  of  an  amicable  termination  of  this  quarrel.  By  the 
good  offices  of  the  king  of  France,  the  pope  was  induced  to  promise  to 
pronounce  in  favour  of  the  divorce,  on  the  receipt  of  a  certain  promise  of  the 
king  to  submit  his  cause  to  Rome.  The  king  agreed  to  make  this  promise 
and  actually  dispatched  a  courier  with  it.  Somedelays  of  the  road  prevented 
the  arrival  of  the  important  document  at  Rome  until  two  days  after  the 
proper  time.  In  the  interim  it  was  reported  at  Rome,  probably  by  some 
of  the  imperial  agents,  that  the  pope  and  cardinals  had  been  ridiculed  in  a 
farce  that  had  been  performed  before  Henry  and  his  court.  Enraged  a' 
(.his  intelligence,  the  pope  and  cardinals  viewed  it  as  sure  proof  that  Hen 


TUI£  THKAdUliY  0¥  HlSTOaV. 


45S 


ly  B  promise  was  not  intended  to  he  kept,  and  a  sentence  was  immediately 
pronounced  in  favour  of  Catherine's  marriage,  while  Henry  was  threat- 
ened with  excommunication  in  the  event  of  that  sentence  not  being  sub- 
mitted to. 

It  is  customary  to  speak  of  the  final  breach  of  Henry  with  Romn  as 
naving  been  solely  caused  by  this  dispute  with  Rome  about  the  divoi  e  ; 
all  fact,  however,  is  against  that  view  of  the  case.  The  opinions  of  Lu- 
ther had  spread  far  and  wido,  and  had  sunk  deep  into  men's  hearts  ;  and  tiie 
bitterest  things  said  against  Rome  by  the  reformers  were  gentle  when  com- 
pared to  the  testimony  borne  against  Rome  by  her  own  venalit}''  and  her 
geieral  corruption.  In  this  very  case  how  could  the  validity  of  Cathe- 
rine's marriage  be  affected  by  the  real  or  only  alledged  performance  of  a 
ribald  farce  before  the  English  court  above  a  score  of  years  after  it  1  Tlie 
very  readiness  with  which  the  nation  joined  the  king  in  seceding  from 
Rome,  shows  very  clearly  that  under  any  possible  circumstances  that  se- 
cession must  have  shortly  taken  place.  We  merely  glance  at  this  fact, 
because  it  will  be  put  beyond  all  doubt  when  we  come  to  speak  of  the  ac- 
cession of  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  for  notwithstanding  all  that  Mary  had  done, 
by  the  zealous  support  she  gave  to  the  church  of  Rome  and  b^  her  furious 
persecution  of  the  Reformers,  to  render  the  subserviency  oi  England  to 
Rome  both  permanent  and  perfect,  the  people  of  this  country  were  re- 
joiced at  the  opportunity  it  afforded  them  of  throwing  off  the  papal  authority. 

The  houses  of  convocation — with  only  four  opposing  votes  and  one 
doubtful  voter — declared  that  "  the  bishop  of  Rome  had  by  the  law  of  God 
no  more  jurisdiction  in  England  than  any  other  foreign  bishop;  and  the 
authority  which  he  and  his  predecessors  have  here  exercised  was  only  by 
usurpation  and  by  the  sufferance  of  the  English  princes.'  The  convoca- 
tion also  ordered  that  the  act  now  passed  by  the  parliament  against  all  ap- 
peals to  Rome,  and  the  appeal  of  the  king  from  the  pope  to  a  general 
council  should  be  affixed  to  all  church  doors  throughout  the  kingdom. 
That  nothing  might  be  left  undone  to  convince  Rome  of  Henry's  resolve 
upon  an  entire  separation  from  the  church  of  which  he  had  been  so  ex- 
tolled a  defender,  the  parliament  passed  an  act  confirming  the  invalidity 
of  Henry's  marriage  with  Catherine,  and  the  validity  of  that  with  Anne 
Boleyn.  All  persons  were  required  to  take  the  oath  to  support  the  suc- 
cession thus  fixed,  and  the  only  persons  of  consequence  who  refused  were 
Sir  Thomas  More  and  bishop  Fisher,  who  were  both  indicted  and  com- 
mitted to  the  Tower.  The  parliament  having  thus  completely,  and  we 
may  add  servilely,  complied  with  all  the  wishes  of  the  king,  was  for  a 
short  time  prorogued. 

The  parliament  had  already  given  to  Henry  the  reality,  and  it  now  pro- 
ceeded to  give  him  the  title  of  supreme  head  of  the  church ;  and  that  Rome 
might  have  no  doubt  that  the  very  exorbitancy  with  which  she  had  pres- 
sed her  pretensions  to  authority  in  England  had  wholly  transferred  that 
authority  to  the  crown,  the  parliament  accompinit^d  this  nmv  and  signi- 
ficant title  with  a  grant  of  all  the  annates  and  tithes  of  benefices  which 
had  hitherto  been  paid  to  Rome.  A  forcible  and  practical  ilUistration  of 
the  sort  of  supremacy  which  Henry  intended  that  himself  and  his  succes- 
sors should  exercise,  and  one  which  showed  Rome  that  not  merely  in  su- 
perstitious observances  but  also  in  solid  matters  of  pecuniary  tribute,  it 
was  Henry's  determination  that  his  people  should  be  free  from  papal  dom 
niation 

Both  in  Ireland  and  Scotland  the  king's  affairs  were  just  at  this  moment, 
when  he  was  carrying  matters  with  so  high  a  hand  with  Rome,  such  as  to 
cause  him  some  anxiety,  but  his  main  care  was  wisely  bestowed  upon  his 
own  kingdom.  The  mere  secession  of  that  kingdom  from  an  authority 
so  time-honoured  and  hitherto  so  dreaded  and  so  arbitrary  as  Rome,  was, 
even  to  so  powerful  and  resolute  a  monarch  as  Henry,  an  experiment  of 


456 


THB  TREASDHY  OP  HISTORY. 


^ome  nicety  and  danger.  Might  not  t  ey  who  had  been  taught  to  rebel 
against  the  church  of  Home  be  induced  to  rebel  against  the  crown  itself  ? 
'rhe  conduct  of  the  anabaptistb  of  Germany  added  an  affirmative  of  expe- 
rience to  the  answer  which  reason  could  not  fail  to  suggest  to  this 
question.  But  besides  that  there  were  many  circumstances  which  ren- 
dered it  unlikely  that  the  frantic  republican  principles  which  a  few  re- 
forming zealots  had  preached  in  Germany,  would  take  a  hold  upon  the 
iiardy  and  practical  intellect  of  Englishmen  long  and  deeply  attached  to 
monarchy,  there  was  little  fear  of  the  public  mind,  while  Henry  reigned, 
having  too  much  speculative  liberty  of  any  sort.  He  had  shaken  off  the 
pope,  indeed,  but  he  had,  as  far  as  the  nation  was  concerned,  only  done 
60  to  substitute  himself ;  and  though  the  right  of  private  judgment  was  one 
of  the  most  important  principles  of  the  Reformation,  it  very  soon  became 
evident  that  the  private  judgment  of  the  English  subject  would  be  an  ex- 
tremely dangerous  thing  except  when  it  very  accurately  tallied  with  that 
of  his  prince.  Opposed  to  the  discipline  of  Rome,  as  a  king,  he  was  no 
less  opposed  to  the  leading  doctrines  of  Luther,  as  a  theologian.  His 
conduct  and  language  perpetually  betrayed  the  struggle  between  these 
antagonistic  feelings,  and  among  the  ministers  and  frequenters  of  the 
court,  as  a  natural  consequence,  "  motley  was  the  only  wear."  Thus  the 
queen,  Cromwell,  now  secretary  of  stale,  and  Cranmer,  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  were  attached  to  the  reformation,  and  availed  themselves  of 
every  opportunity  to  forward  it,  but  they  ever  found  it  safer  to  impugn  tlie 
papacy  than  to  criticise  any  of  the  doctrines  of  Catholicism.  On  the  other 
side  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  Gardiner,  bishop  of  Winchester,  both  of 
whom  were  high  in  authority  and  favour,  were  strongly  attached  to 
the  ancient  faith.  The  king,  flattered  by  each  of  the  parties  upon  a  portion 
of  his  principles,  was  able  to  play  the  pope  over  both  his  catholic  and  his 
protestant  subjects,  and  his  stern  and  headstrong  style  of  both  speech  and 
action  greatly  added  to  the  advantage  given  him  by  the  anxiety  of  each 
party  to  have  him  for  its  ally  against  the  other. 

In  the  meantime  it  was  no  longer  in  the  powerofeitherking  or  minister 
to  prevent  the  purer  principles  of  the  Reformation  from  making  their  way 
to  the  hearts  and  minds  of  the  people.  Tindal,  Joyce,  and  other  learned 
men  who  had  sought  in  the  Low  Countries  for  safety  from  the  king's 
arbitrary  temper,  found  means  to  smuggle  over  vast  numbers  of  tracts 
and  a  translation  of  the  scriptures.  These  got  extensively  circulated  and 
weie  greedily  perused,  although  the  catholic  portion  of  the  ministry  aided 
— however  singular  the  phrase  may  sound — '■  "le  catholic  portion  of  the 
king's  will,  made  great  endeavours  to  keep  .  but  especially  the  bible, 

from  the  eyes  of  the  people. 

A  singular  anecdote  is  related  of  one  of  the  attempts  made  to  suppress 
the  bible.  Tonstal,  bishop  of  London,  a  zealous  catholic,  but  humane 
man,  was  very  anxious  to  prevent  the  circulation  of  Tindal's  bible,  and 
Tindal  was  himself  but  little  less  anxious  for  a  new  and  more  accurate 
edition.  Tonstal,  preferring  tuj  prevention  of  what  he  deemed  crime  to 
the  punishment  of  offenders,  devoted  a  large  sum  of  money  to  purchasing 
all  the  copies  that  could  be  met  with  of  Tindal's  bible,  and  all  the  copies 
thus  obtained  were  solemnly  burned  at  the  Cross  of  Cheap.  Both  the 
bishop  and  Tindal  were  gratified  on  this  occasion ;  the  former,  it  is  true, 
destroyed  the  first  and  incorrect  edition  of  the  bible  by  Tindal,  but  he  at 
the  same  time  supplied  that  zealous  scholar  with  the  pecuniary  means,  of 
which  he  was  otherwise  destitute,  of  bringing  out  a  second  and  more  per 
feet  as  well  as  more  extensive  edition. 

Others  were  less  humane  in  their  desire  to  repress  what  they  deemed 
heresy,  and  few  were  more  severe  than  Sir  Thomas  More,  who  succeeded 
Wolsey  as  chancellor,  and  of  whose  own  imprisonment  we  have  already 
spoken,  as  presently  we  shall  have  to  speak  of  his  death.    Though  ? 


THB  TRBASUaV  OF  HISTUaY. 


ihl 


and 


man  of  elegant  learning  and  great  wit,  and  though  in  speculative  opin- 
ions he  advanced  much  which  the  least  rigid  protestant  might  justly  con- 
demn as  impious,  yet,  so  true  a  type  was  he  of  the  motley  age  iu  which 
he  lived,  his  enmity  to  all  opposition  to  papacy  in  practice  could  lead  him 
to  the  most  dastardly  and  hateful  cruelty.  To  speak,  in  detail,  of  tha 
errors  of  a  great  man  is  at  all  times  unpleasant ;  we  merely  mention, 
therefore,  his  treatment  of  James  Painham.  This  gentleman,  a  student 
of  the  Temple,  was  during  More's  chancellorship  accused  of  being  qon 
cerned  with  others  in  aiding  in  the  propagation  of  the  refori«ed  doctrines 
It  appears  that  the  unfortunate  gentleman  did  not  deny  his  own  part  ir 
the  acts  attributed  to  him,  but  honourably  refused  to  give  any  testi- 
mony against  others.  His  first  examination  took  place  in  the  chancellor's 
own  house,  and  there,  to  his  great  disgrace,  he  actually  had  the  high- 
minded  gentleman  stripped  and  brutally  whipped,  the  chancellor  in  person 
witnessing  and  superintending  the  disgusting  exhibition.  But  the  mis- 
taken and  maddening  zeal  of  More  did  not  stop  even  here.  I'^nraged  at 
the  constancy  of  his  victim,  he  had  him  conveyed  to  the  tower,  and  there 
saw  him  put  to  the  torture.  Under  this  new  and  most  terrible  trial  the 
firmness  of  the  unhappy  gentleman  for  a  time  gave  way  and  he  abjured 
his  principles  ;  but  in  a  very  short  time  afterwards  he  openly  returned  to 
them,  and  was  burned  to  death  in  Smithiield  as  a  relapsed  and  confirmed 
heretic. 

It  will  easily  be  supposed  that  while  so  intellectual  a  catholic  us  More 
was  thus  furious  on  behalf  of  Rome,  the  mean  herd  of  persecutors  were 
not  idle.  To  teach  children  the  Lord's  prayer  in  English,  to  read  the 
scriptures,  or  at  least  the  New  Testament  in  that  language,  to  speak 
against  pilgrimages,  to  neglect  the  fasts  of  the  church,  to  attribute  vice  to 
the  old  clergy,  or  to  give  shelter  or  encouragement  to  the  new,  all  these 
were  offences  punishable  in  the  bishop's  courts,  some  of  them  even  capi- 
tally. Thus,  Thomas  Bilney,  a  priest,  who  had  embraced  and,  under 
threats,  renounced  the  new  doctrines,  embraced  them  once  again,  and  went 
through  Norfolk  zealously  preaching  against  the  absurdity  of  relying  for 
salvation  upon  pilgrimages  and  images.  He  was  seized,  tried,  and  burn- 
ed. Thus  far  the  royal  severity  had  chiefly  fallen  upon  the  reformed ; 
but  the  monks  and  friars  of  the  old  faith,  intimately  dependant  upon  Koine, 
detested  Henry's  separation  and  assumption  of  supremacy  far  too  much 
than  to  be  otherwise  than  inimical  to  him.  In  their  public  preachings  they 
more  than  once  gave  way  to  libellous  scurrillity,  which  Henry  bore  with  a 
moderation  by  no  means  usual  with  him,  but  at  length  the  tiger  of  his 
temper  was  thoroughly  aroused  by  an  extensive  and  impudent  conspiracy. 

At  Aldington,  in  Kent,  there  was  a  woman  named  Elizabeth  Barton,  com> 
moiily  known  as  the  holy  maid  of  Kent,  who  was  subject  to  fits,  under  the 
influence  of  which  she  unconsciously  said  odd  and  incoherent  things,  which 
her  ignorant  neighbours  imagined  to  be  the  result  not  of  epilepsy  but  of 
Inspiration.    The  vicar  of  the  parish,  Richard  Masters,  instead  of  re- 

E roving  and  enlightening  his  ignorant  flock,  took  their  ignorant  fancy  as  a 
int  for  a  deep  scheme.  He  lent  his  authority  to  the  report  that  the  maid 
of  Kent  spoke  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  he  had  not  any 
great  difficulty  in  acquiring  the  most  entire  authority  over  the  maid  her- 
self, who  thenceforth  spoke  whatever  he  deemed  fit  to  dictate.  Having  a 
chapel  in  which  stood  an  image  of  the  Virgin,  to  which,  for  his  own 
profit's  sake,  he  was  anxious  to  withdraw  as  many  pilffrims  as  possible 
from  other  shrines,  he  entered  into  a  confederacy  with  Ur.  Bocking,  one 
of  the  canons  of  Canterbury  cathedral,  and  under  their  direction  Elizabeth 
Barton  pretended  to  receive  a  supernatural  direction  to  proceed  to  the 
image  in  question  and  pray  there  for  her  cure. 

At  first,  it  seems  quite  clear,  the  unfortunate  woman  was  t -iily  and 
merely  an  epileptic ;  but  ignorance,  poverty,  and  perhaps  some  natural 


«68 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


eunning,  made  her  a  ready  and  unscrupulous  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  plot- 
ting  ecclesiastics,  and  after  a  series  of  affected  distortions,  whicu  would 
have  been  merely  ludicrous  had  their  purpose  not  added  something  of  the 
impious,  she  pretended  that  her  prostrations  before  the  image  had  entire- 
ly  freed  her  from  her  disease. 

Thus  far  the  priests  and  their  unfotlunate  tool  had  proceeded  without 
any  interference,  the  severity  with  which  the  king  and  the  powerful  cath- 
olics  treated  all  enmity  to  pilgrimages  and  disrespect  to  shrines,  being  of 
itself  sufficient  to  insure  their  impunity  thus  far  But  impunity  as  usual 
produced  want  of  caution,  and  the  priests,  seeing  that  the  wondering 
multitude  urged  no  objection  to  the  new  miracle  which  they  ailedged  to 
have  been  wrought,  were  now,  most  lucklessly  for  themselves,  enrouraged 
to  extend  their  views  and  to  make  the  unfortunate  Elizabetli  Uarton  of 
use  in  opposing  the  progress  of  the  reformed  doctrine,  and  against  Henry's 
divorce  from  Catherine.  Hence  the  ravings  of  the  maid  of  Kent  were 
directed  against  heresy,  with  an  occasional  prophesy  of  evil  to  the  kine 
on  account  of  the  divorce ;  and  the  nonsense  thus  uttered  was  not  only 
repeated  in  various  parts  of  the  kingdom  by  monks  and  friars  who,  most 

t>robably,  were  in  concert  with  Masters  and  Bocking,  but  were  even  col- 
ected  into  a  book  by  a  friar  named  Deering.  The  very  industry  with 
which  the  original  inventors  of  this  grossly  impudent  imposture  caused  it 
to  be  noised  abroad  compelled  the  king  to  notice  it.  The  maid  of  Kent 
with  her  priestly  abettors  and  several  others  were  arrested,  and  without 
being  subjected  to  torture  made  full  confession  of  their  imposture,  and 
were  executed.  From  circumstances  which  were  discovered  during  the 
investigation  of  this  most  impudent  cheat,  it  but  too  clearly  appeared  th,it 
the  so  called  holy  maid  of  Kent  was  a  woman  of  most  lewd  life,  and  that 
imposture  was  by  no  means  the  only  sin  in  which  Masters  and  Bocking 
had  been  her  accomplices. 

A.  D.  1535. — The  discoveries  of  gross  immorality  and  elaborate  cheating 
which  ^were  made  during  the  investigation  of  the  affair  of  the  maid 
of  Kent  seems  to  us  to  have  been,  if  not  the  very  first,  at  all  events  the 
most  influential  of  the  king's  motives  to  his  subsequent  sweeping  and 
cruel  suppression  of  the  monasteries.  Having  on  this  occasion  suppress- 
ed three  belonging  to  the  Observantine  friars,  the  very  little  sensation 
their  loss  seemed  to  cause  among  the  common  people  very  naturally  led 
him  to  extend  his  views  still  farther  in  a  course  so  productive  of  pecu- 
niary profit. 

But  at  present  he  required  some  farther  satisfaction  of  a  more  terrible 
nature  for  the  wrong  and  insult  that  had  lately  been  done  to  him.  Fisher, 
bishop  of  Roclie.ster,  in  common  with  Sir  Thomas  More,  had  been,  as  we 
already  mentioned,  committed  to  prison  for  objecting  to  take  the  oath  of 
successioti  as  settled  by  the  arbitrary  king  and  the  no  less  obsequious  par- 
liament. Unhappily  for  the  prelate,  though  a  good  and  even  a  learned 
man,  he  was  very  credulous,  and  he  had  been  among  the  believei-s  and, 
to  a  certain  extent,  among  the  supporters  of  the  impudent  Elizabeth  Bar- 
ton. Still  more  unhappily  for  the  aged  prelate,  while  he  already  lay  so 
deeply  in  the  king's  displeasure,  and  after  he  had  for  a  whole  year  been 
confined  with  such  severity  that  he  was  often  in  want  of  common  neces- 
saries, the  pope  cr2ated  him  a  cardinal.  This  decided  the  fate  of  the  un- 
fortunate prelate,  who  was  at  once  indicted  under  the  act  of  supremacy 
and  beheaded. 

The  death  of  Fisher  was  almost  instantly  followed  by  that  of  the  learn- 
ed, though,  as  we  have  seen,  bigoted  and  sometimes  cruel  Sir  Thomas 
More.  His  objections  to  taking  the  new  oath  of  succession  seem  to  have 
been  perfectly  sincere  and  were  perfectly  insuperable.  VVe  learn  from 
himself  that  it  was  intimated  to  him  by  Cromwell,  now  in  high  favour, 
that  unless  he  could  show  him  reasons  <br  his  determined  refusal,  it  would 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


459 


most  probably  be  set  down  to  the  account  of  obstinacy.  His  own  version 
of  the  dialogue  between  himsclT  and  Cromwell  is  so  curious  that  we  ex> 
tract  the  following  from  it. 

More  said  (in  reply  to  the  above  argument  of  Cromwell)  "  it  is  no  ob< 
stinacy,  but  only  the  fear  of  giving  offence.  Let  me  have  sufficient  war- 
rant from  the  king  that  he  will  not  be  offended  and  I  will  give  my 
reasons." 

Cbomwbll. — "  The  king's  warrant  would  not  save  you  from  the  penal- 
ties enacted  by  the  statute." 

More. — "In  this  case  I  will  trust  to  his  majesty's  honour;  but  yet  it 
thinkcth  me,  that  if  I  cannot  declare  the  causes  without  peril,  then  to 
leave  them  undeclared  is  no  obstinacy." 

Cromwell. — "  You  say  that  you  do  not  blame  any  man  for  taking  the 
oath,  it  is  then  evident  that  you  are  not  convinced  that  it  is  blameable 
to  take  it ;  but  you  must  be  convinced  that  it  is  your  duty  to  obey  the 
king.  In  refusing,  therefore,  to  take  it,  you  prefer  that  which  is  uncertain 
to  that  which  is  certain." 

More. — "  I  do  not  blame  men  for  taking  the  oath,  because  I  know  not 
their  reasons  and  motives ;  but  I  should  blame  myself  because  I  know 
that  I  should  act  against  my  conscience.  And' truly  such  reasoning 
would  ease  us  of  all  perplexity.  Whenever  doctors  disagree  we  have 
only  to  obtain  the  king's  commandment  for  either  side  of  the  question  and 
we  must  be  right." 

Abbot  of  Westminster. — "  But  you  ought  to  think  your  own  conscience 
erroneous  when  you  have  the  whole  council  of  the  nation  against  you." 

More. — "  And  so  I  should,  had  I  not  for  me  a  still  greater  council,  the 
whole  council  of  Christendom." 

More's  talents  and  character  made  him  too  potent  an  opponent  of  the 
king's  arbitrary  will  to  allow  of  his  being  spared.  To  condemn  him  was 
not  difficult;  the  king  willed  his  condemnation,  and  he  was  condemned 
accordinjfly.  If  in  his  day  of  power  More,  unfortunately,  showed  that  he 
knew  how  to  inflict  evil,  so  now  in  his  fall  he  showed  the  far  nobler  pow- 
er of  bearing  it.  In  his  happier  days  he  had  been  noted  for  a  certain  jocu- 
lar phraseology,  and  this  did  not  desert  him  even  in  the  last  dreadful 
scene  of  all.  Being  somewhat  infirm,  he  craved  the  assistance  of  a  by- 
stander as  he  mounted  the  scaffold  ;  saying,  ♦'  Friend,  help  me  up,  when 
I  come  down  again  you  may  e'en  let  me  shift  for  myself."  When  the 
ceremonies  were  at  an  end  the  executioner  in  the  customary  terms  begged 
his  forgiveness  ;  "  I  forgive  you,"  he  replied,  "but  you  will  surely  get  no 
credit  by  the  job  of  beheading  me,  my  neck  is  so  "short."  Even  as  he 
laid  his  head  upon  the  block  he  said,  putting  aside  the  long  beard  he  wore, 
"Do  not  hurt  my  beard,  that  at  least  has  committed  no  treason."  These 
words  uttered,  the  executioner  proceeded  with  his  revolting  task,  and 
Sir  Thomas  More,  learned,  though  a  bigot,  and  a  good  man,  though  at  times 
a  persecutor,  perished  in  the  fifty-third  year  of  his  age. 

A.  D.  1536. — While  the  court  of  Rome  was  exerting  itself  to  the  utmost 
to  show  its  deep  sense  of  the  indignation  it  felt  at  the  execution  of  two 
such  men  as  Fisher  and  More,  an  event  took  place  in  England  which,  in 
Christian  charity,  we  are  bound  to  believe  gave  a  severe  shock  even  to 
the  hard  heart  o?  Henry.  Though  the  divorced  Catherine  had  resolutely 
persisted  in  being  treated  as  a  queen  by  all  who  approached  her,  she 
had  suffered  with  so  dignifled  a  patience  that  she  was  the  more  deeply 
sympathized  with.  But  the  stern  effort  with  which  she  bore  her  wrongs 
was  too  much  for  her  already  broken  constitution.  Perceiving  that 
her  days  on  earth  were  numbered,  she  besought  Henry  that  she  mighi 
once  more  look  upon  her  child,  the  princess  Mary  ;  to  the  disgrace  of  our 
common  nature,  even  this  request  was  sternly  denied.  She  then  wrote 
him  a  letter,  so  affecting,  that  even  he  shed  tears  over  it,  in  which  she, 


460 


THB  TaBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


gentle  and  aubmissive  to  the  last  in  all  save  the  one  great  point  of  her 
wrongs,  called  him  her  "dear  lord,  king,  and  husband,"  besoushthis  aflec- 
lion  for  their  child,  and  recommended  her  servants  to  his  goodness.  Her 
letter  so  moved  him  that  he  sent  her  a  kind  message,  but  ere  the  bearer 
of  it  could  arrive  she  was  released  from  her  suffering  and  wronged  life. 
Henry  caused  his  servants  to  go  into  deep  mourning  on  the  day  of  her 
funeral,  which  was  celebrated  with  great  pomp  at  Peterborough  cathedral. 

Whatever  pit)r  we  may  feel  for  the  subsequent  sufferings  of  Queen 
Anne  Boleyn,  it  is  impossible  to  withhold  our  disgust  from  her  conduct  on 
this  occasion.  Though  the  very  menials  of  her  husband  wore  at  least 
the  outward  show  of  sorrow  for  the  departed  Catherine,  Anne  Boleyn  on 
that  day  dressed  herself  more  showily  than  usual,  and  expressed  a  per- 
fectly savage  exultation  that  now  she  might  consider  herself  a  queen  in- 
deed, as  her  rival  was  dead. 

Her  exultation  was  as  short  lived  as  it  was  unwomanly.  In  the  very 
midst  of  tier  joy  she  saw  Henry  paying  very  unequivocal  court  to  one  of 
her  ladies,  by  name  Jane  Seymour,  and  she  was  so  much  enraged  and  as- 
tonished that,  being  far  advanced  in  pregnancy,  she  was  prematurely  de- 
livered of  a  still-born  prince.  Henry,  notoriously  anxious  for  legitimate 
male  issue,  was  cruel  enough  to  reproach  her  with  this  occurrence,  when 
she  spiritedly  replied,  that  he  had  only  himself  to  blame,  the  mischief  be 
ing  entirely  caused  by  his  conduct  with  her  maid. 

This  answer  completed  the  kinpr's  anger,  and  that  feeling,  with  liis  new 
passion  for  Jane  Seymour,  caused  ruin  to  Anne  Boleyn  even  ere  slie  hud 
ceased  to  exult  over  the  departed  Catherine. 

Her  levity  of  manner  had  already  enabled  her  foes  to  poison  the  ready 
ear  of  the  king,  and  his  open  anger  necessarily  caused  those  foes  to  be 
still  more  busy  and  precise  in  their  whisperings.  Being  present  at  a  tilt- 
ing match,  she,  whether  by  accident  or  design,  let  fall  her  handkerchief 
exactly  at  the  feet  of  Sir  Henry  JJorris  and  her  brother.  Lord  Roohford 
who  at  that  moment  were  the  combatants.  At  any  other  time  it  is  likely 
that  Henry  would  have  let  so  trivial  an  accident  pass  unnoticed.  But  his 
jealousy  was  already  aroused,  his  love,  such  as  it  was,  had  already  burnt 
out,  and,  above  all,  no  had  already  cast  his  eyes  on  Jane  Seymour,  and 
was  glad  of  any  excuse,  good  or  bad,  upon  which  to  rid  himself  of  Anne. 
Sir  Henry  Norris,  who  was  a  reputed  favourite  of  the  queen,  not  only 
raised  the  handkerchief  from  the  ground,  but  used  it  to  wipe  his  face,  be 
ing  heated  with  the  sport.  The  king's  dark  looks  lowered  upon  all  pres- 
ent, and  he  instantly  withdrew  in  one  of  those  moods  in  which  few  cared 
to  meet  him  and  none  dared  to  oppose  his  will.  On  the  next  morning 
Lord  Rochford  and  Sir  Henry  Norris  were  arrested  and  thrown  into  the 
Tower,  and  Anne  herself,  while  on  her  way  from  Greenwich  to  London, 
was  met  by  Cromwell  and  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  by  them  informed 
that  she  was  accused  of  infidelity  to  the  king ;  and  she,  too,  was  taken  to 
the  Tower,  as,  charged  with  being  her  accomplices,  were  Brerelon,  Wes- 
ton, and  Smeaton,  three  gentlemen  of  the  court. 

Well  knowing  the  danger  she  was  in  when  once  charged  with  such  an 
offence  against  such  a  husband,  she  instantly  became  hysterical ;  now  de- 
claring her  innocence  with  the  bitterest  tears,  and  anon  relying  upon  the 
impossibility  of  any  one  proving  her  guilty.  "If  any  man  accuse  me," 
said  she  to  the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  "  I  can  but  say  nay,  and  they  can 
bring  no  witnesses." 

Anne  now  had  to  experience  some  of  that  heartless  indifference  which 
she  had  so  needlessly  and  disgracefully  exhibited  in  the  case  of  the  unfor- 
tunate and  blameless  Catherine.  At  the  head  of  the  commission  ot 
twenty-six  peers  who  were  appointed  to  try  her,  on  the  revolting  charge 
of  gross  infidelity  with  no  fewer  than  five  men,  including  her  own  half 
brother,  this  unfortunate  lady  had  the  misery  to  see  her  own  uncle,  the 


THE  TKBAHURY  OF  HISTORY. 


461 


ddKe  or  Norrolk,  and  to  see,  too,  that  In  him  she  had  a  Judge  who  was  Tar 
enough  from  being  prejudiced  in  her  favour.  She  waa,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  death,  the  mode  by  fire  or  by  the 
axe  being  left  to  the  king's  pleasure. 

We  have  seen  that  Anne  had  in  her  prosperity  been  favourable  to  the 
reformed ;  and  as  Cranmer,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  well  known 
to  have  great  influence  over  Henry,  the  unhappy  Anne  probably  hoped 
that  he  would  exert  it,  at  the  least,  to  save  her  life.  If  she  entertained 
such  ho[je,  she  was  bitterly  disappointed.  Henry,  who  seems  to  have 
feared  some  such  humanity  on  the  part  of  Cranmer,  sent  to  him  to  pro- 
nounce sentence  as^aimt — as  formerly  he  had  pronounced  it  for — the 
original  validity  of  Anne's  marriage  with  Henry.  Cranmer,  learned  and 
pious,  wanted  only  moral  courage  to  have  been  a  thorou<rhly  gioat  and 
good  man;  but  of  moral  courage  he  seems,  save  in  the  closing  act  of  his 
life,  to  have  been  thoroughly  destitute.  Upon  whatever  proofs  the  kins 
chose  to  furnish  for  his  guidance,  he,  after  a  mere  mockery  of  trial,  ana 
with  an  affectation  of  solemnity  and  sincerity  which  was  actually  impious, 
pronounced  the  desired  sentence;  and  thus  declared  against  the  legitimacy 
of  the  princess  Elizabeth,  as  he  had  already  done  in  the  case  of  the  prin- 
cess Mary. 

Anne  was  not  allowed  to  suffer  long  suspense  after  her  iniquitous  con 
demnation ;  iniquitous,  even  if  sl\e  really  was  guilty,  inasmuch  as  her  trial 
was  a  mere  mockery.  She  was  kept  for  a  few  days  in  the  Tower,  where, 
with  a  better  spirit  than  she  had  formerly  shown,  she  besought  the  for- 
giveness of  the  ptrincess  Mary  for  the  numerous  injuries  she  had  done  her 
through  her  deceaaed  mother ;  and  was  then  publicly  beheaded  on  the 
Tower  green,  the  executioner  severing  her  head  at  one  stroke. 

Of  Henry's  feclingd  on  the  occasion  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  more  ih:ia 
that  he  put  on  no  mourning  for  the  deceased  Anne,  but  on  the  very  rriorn- 
ing  after  her  execution  was  married  to  Jane  Seymour. 

As  to  Anne's  guilt,  we  think  it  most  likely  that  both  friends  and  foes 
judged  amiss.  Her  general  levity  and  many  circumstances  which  would 
be  out  of  place  here,  forbid  us  to  believe  her  wholly  innocent;  and  we 
are  the  more  likely  to  err  in  doing  so,  because  our  chief  argument  in  her 
favour  must  be  drawn  from  the  character  of  her  husband,  of  whom  it  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  once  at  least  he  certainly  was  wronged  by  a  wife. 
Oil  the  other  hand,  to  believe  her  as  guilty  as  she  has  been  represented, 
is  to  throw  aside  all  considerations  of  the  utter  impossibility  of  her  hav- 
iiiEf  Unis  long  been  so,  without  being  detected  by  the  numerous  enemies 
wiili  whom  her  supplanting  Catherine  and  her  patronage  of  the  reformed 
fiiith  must  needs  have  caused  to  surround  her  during  the  whole  of  her  ill- 
I  ited  elevation. 

A  new  parliament  was  now  called  to  pass  a  new  r  >f  succession,  by 
which  the  crown  was  settled  on  such  children  as  he  mi;  lit  have  by  his 
present  queen,  Jane  Seymour  ;  and  failing  such,  the  disposal  of  the  crown 
was  left  to  Henry's  last  will  signed  by  his  own  hand.  It  was  thought 
from  this  last  named  clause  that  Henry,  fearing  to  leave  no  legitimate 
male  successor,  wished  in  that  case  to  have  the  power  of  leaving  the 
crown  to  his  illegitimate  son,  young  Fitzroy,  who,  however,  to  He*xry'» 
great  sorrow,  died  shortly  afterward. 

Henry  seems  to  have  been  much  grieved  by  the  death  of  Fitzroy,  but  lie 
was  prevented  from  long  indulging  in  that  grief  by  a  very  formidable  in- 
surrection which  broke  out  in  the  October  of  this  year.  The  apathy  with 
which  the  people  had  witnessed  the  dissolution  and  forfeiture  of  three 
monasteries  on  occasion  of  the  detection  of  the  fraud  of  Elizabeth  Barton, 
had  naturally  encouraged  Henry  to  look  forward  to  that  sort  of  summary 
justice  as  a  sure  and  abundant  source  of  revenue.  So  extended  was  his 
influence  that  he  had  even  found  members  of  convocation  to  propose  the 


109 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


surrender  of  the  ic»$er  monasteries  into  his  hands.  It  was  probably  one 
of  the  chief  causes  of  his  determined  enmity  to  his  old  tutor  and  council 
lor,  Fisher,  bisliop  of  Rochester,  that  that  excellent  prelate  made  h  very 
pithy,  though  quaint  opposition  to  this  proposal,  on  the  ground  that  it 
would  infallibly  throw  the  greater  monasteries  also  into  the  king's  hands 
Hubsequently  to  the  aflair  of  the  maul  of  Kent,  the  king  and  his  miniKtci 
Cromwell  had  proceeded  to  great  lengths  in  dissolving  the  lesser  munns. 
teries,  and  confiscating  their  property.  The  residents,  the  pour  who  Imd 
been  accustomed  to  receive  doles  of  food  at  the  gates  of  these  liuuaeH, 
and  the  nobility  and  gentry  by  whom  the  monasteries  had  been  founded 
and  endowed,  were  all  greatly  offended  by  the  sweeping  and  arbitrary 
measures  of  the  blacksmith's  son,  as  they  termed  Cromwell,  and  the  re- 
trenchment of  several  holidays,  and  the  abolition  of  several  superstitjuus 
practices  which  had  been  very  gainful  to  the  clergy,  at  length  caused  an 
open  manifestation  of  discontent  in  Lincolnshire.  Twenty  thousand  men, 
headed  by  Prior  Mackrel,  of  Barlings,  ruse  in  arms  to  demand  the  putting 
down  of  *'  persons  meanly  born  and  raised  to  dignity,"  evidently  aiming  at 
Cromwell,  and  the  redress  of  divers  grievances  under  which  the^  stated 
the  church  to  be  labouring.  Henry  sent  the  duke  of  Suffolk  against  tlijs 
tumultuous  multitude,  and  by  a  judicious  mixture  of  force  and  fair  words 
the  leaders  were  taken,  and  forthwith  executed,  and  the  multitude,  uf 
course,  dispersed. 

But  in  the  counties  further  north  than  Lincolnshire  the  discontents 
were  equally  great,  and  were  the  more  dangerous  because  more  diistance 
from  the  chief  seat  of  the  king's  power  rendered  the  revolted  bolder. 
Under  a  gentleman  named  Aske,  aided  by  some  of  the  better  sort  of  thuse 
M'ho  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  escape  the  breaking  up  of  tlie  Lineoin. 
hliire  confederacy,  upwards  of  forty  thousand  men  assembled  frotn  the 
counties  of  York,  Durham,  and  Lancaster,  for  what  they  called  the  pilfrritn. 
age  of  grace.  For  their  banner  they  had  an  embroidery  of  a  crucifix,  a 
chalice,  and  the  five  wounds  of  the  Saviour,  and  each  man  who  ranged 
himself  under  this  banner  was  required  to  swear  that  he  had  "entered 
into  the  pilgrimage  of  grace  from  no  other  motive  than  his  love  of  God, 
care  of  the  king's  person  and  issue,  desire  of  purifying  tlie  nobility,  of 
driving  base  persons  from  about  the  king,  of  restoring  the  cliurch,  and  of 
suppressing  heresy." 

But  the  absence  of  all  other  motive  may,  in  the  case  of  not  a  few  uf 
these  revolters  be  very  reasonably  doubted,  when  with  the  oath  taken  by 
each  recruit  who  joined  the  disorderly  ranks  we  take  into  comparison  the 
style  of  circular  by  which  recruits  were  invited,  which  ran  thus : — "  We 
command  you  and  every  of  you  to  be  at  (here  the  particular  place  was 
named)  on  Saturday  next  hy  eleven  of  the  clock,  in  your  best  array,  as 
you  will  answer  before  the  hi<fh  judge  at  the  great  day  of  doom,  and  in  the 

Eain  of  pulling  down  your  houses  and  the  losing  of  your  goods,  and  your 
odies  to  be  at  the  captain's  will." 

Confident  in  their  numbers,  the  concealed,  but  real  leaders  of  the  en- 
terprise caused  Aske  to  send  delegates  to  the  king  to  lay  their  demands 
before  him.  The  king's  written  answer  bears  several  marks  of  the  an- 
noyance he  felt  that  a  body  of  low  peasnnts  should  venture  to  trench  ii|mn 
subjects  upon  which  he  flattered  himself  that  he  was  not  iniequal  to  liie 
most  learned  cleks.  He  told  them  that  he  greatly  marvelled  how  sui  !i 
ignorant  churls  sfiould  speak  of  theological  subjects  to  him  who  something  hcia 
been  noted  to  be  learned,  or  oppose  the  suppression  of  monasteries,  us  if  it 
were  not  better  to  relieve  the  head  of  the  church  in  his  necessity,  than  to 
support  the  sloth  and  wickedness  of  monks."  As  it  was  very  rt^nisite, 
however,  to  break  up  as  peaceably  as  possible,  an  assemblage  wliich  its 
mere  numbers  would  render  it  somewhat  difficult  as  well  as  dangerous  td 
disperse  by  main  force,  Henry  at  the  same  time  promised  that  he  woulJ 


THB  YRBA8URY  OF  HI8TOH\ 


na 


f  the  en- 

cimuiids 

■  ilie  aii- 

»cli  upon 

ill  to  llie 

o\v  sucli 

'Miijf  hua 

i,  as  if  it 

,  Ilia  11  to 

■t*quisitc, 

i-hicli  lis 

lerous  to 

le  woiilJ 


remedy  such  of  thei;  grievnnces  as  might  seem  to  nerd  remedy.  This 
prnmiHe  beini;  iinfiilfilled,  the  same  eounliea  in  tlie  followinu  yenr  (1537) 
again  assembled  their  armed  musses.  The  duke  of  Noilnlk,  oh  eom- 
mander-in-cliief  of  the  king's  forces,  posted  himself  so  advaiitiigrnusiy 
that  when  the  insurgents  endeavoured  to  surprise  f  lull,  and,  Kubst-iiuently, 
Carlisle,  he  was  able  to  beat  them  easily.  Nearly  all  the  leuliiig  men 
were  taken  prisoners  and  sent  to  London,  where  ihey  were  nhorlly  after- 
wards executed  as  traitors.  With  the  (!ommon  sort,  cf  wIkiui  vast  num- 
Ikth  were  taken  prisoners,  there  was  less  ceremony  used ;  they  were 
haiiKed  up  "by  scores,''  says  Lmgard,  in  all  the  principal  towns  of  the 
chief  scene  of  revolt.  When  by  this  wholesale  shedding  of  human  blood 
tlin  king  had  at  length  appeased  his  wrath  and  that  appetite  for  cruelty 
which  every  year  grew  more  and  more  fierce,  the  proclamation  of  a  gen- 
eral pardon  restored  peace  to  the  nation. 

The  chief  plea  for  the  late  insurrection  had  been  the  suppression  of  the 
lesser  monasteries.  That  Henry  had  from  the  very  first,  according  to 
the  shrewd  prophecy  of  Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester,  intended  to  go  from 
the  lesser  up  to  the  greater,  there  is  no  doubt ;  and  the  part  which  the 
nionasteries  had  taken  in  encouraging  the  pilgrimage  of  grace,  only  made 
him  the  more  determined  in  that  course.  The  ever  obsequious  parlia- 
ment showed  the  same  willingness  to  pass  an  act  for  the  suppression  of 
the  remaining  and  greater  monasteries  that  had  so  often  been  shown  in 
far  less  creditable  affairs ;  and  of  twenty-eight  mitred  abbots — exclusive 
of  the  priors  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem  and  Coventry — who  had  seats  in 
the  house  of  lords,  not  one  dared  to  raise  his  voice  against  u  measure 
which  must  have  been  so  distasteful  to  them  all. 

Commissioners  were  appointed  to  visit  the  monasteries.  That  there 
were  great  disorders  in  many  of  them,  that  the  burden  they  inflicted  u|)on 
the  capital  and  the  industry  of  the  country  far  outweighecf  the  good  done 
to  the  poor  of  the  country — a  class,  be  it  remembered,  which  the  monastic 
doles  had  a  most  evil  tendency  to  increase — and  that  they  ought  to  have 
been  suppressed,  no  reasonable  man  in  the  present  state  of  political 
science  will  venture  to  deny.  It  may  be,  nay  it  is  but  too  certain,  that  the 
innocent  and  the  guilty  in  some  cases  were  confounded ;  that  numbers  of 
people  were  thrown  out  of  employment,  and  that  with  a  vast  amount  of 
good  some  evil  was  done ;  that  Henry  even  in  doing  good  could  n<it  re- 
frain from  a  tyrannous  strain  of  conduct ;  and  that  much  of  the  property 
thus  wrested  from  superstition  was  lavished  upon  needy  or  upon  profligate 
courtiers,  instead  of  being,  as  it  ought  to  have  been,  made  a  permanent 
national  property  in  aid  of  the  religious  and  civil  expenses  of  the  nation. 
But  after  admitting  all  this,  it  is  quite  certain  that,  however  prompted  or 
liowevor  enacted,  this  suppression  of  the  monasteries  by  Henry  VIII.  was 
the  most  important  measure  since  the  Norman  conquest,  and  was  the 
measure  which  gave  the  first  impulse  to  England  in  that  mar(!li  of  reso- 
lute industry  which  has  long  since  left  her  with  scarcely  a  rival  upon  the 
earth,  whether  in  wealth  or  in  power. 

While,  however,  n-e  for  the  sake  of  argument  admit  that  Henry  was 
arbitrary  m  his  cor.duct  towards  the  monasteries,  and  tliat  his  commis- 
sioners were  infinitely  less  anxious  for  truth  than  for  finding  out  or  invent- 
injf  causes  of  confiscation,  we  are  not  the  less  bound  to  assert  that,  even 
for  the  single  sin  of  imposture,  the  monasteries  required  the  full  weight  of 
the  iron  hand  of  Henry.  Of  the  gross  frauds  which  were  committed  for 
the  purpose  of  attracting  the  attention  and  the  money  of  the  credulous  to 
particular  monasteries,  our  space  will  only  allow  of  our  mentioning  tv,o 
which,  indeed,  will  sufficiently  speak  for  the  rest. 

At  the  monastery  of  Hales,  in  Gloucestershire,  the  relic  iipoji  which  the 
monks  relied  for  profit — every  monastery  liaviiiir  relicx,  some  of  which 
must  have  had  the  power  of  ubiquity,  it  being  a  fact  that  many  monasterie* 


4«M 


THK  TKKAilUllY  OF  IIIHTORY. 


at  homo  and  abrn:ui  hnv«  prrtcndrd  to  poiinnHii  (ho  inmn  (>Mpff('i:il  too  or 
Angor  of  tliJH,  tliut,  or  tint  oilu-r  1:11111! — wiih  Niiiil  tii  bn  nonir  of  tin*  hi  Kxi 
of  our  Siivioiir  wliicli  had  hoiMi  prwerved  at  the  linifi  n(  th(!  criiciAxioti. 
Ill  proportion  to  th«  •■iithuaiaNiii  whii;h  such  a  protiMici-  wan  calciilati-d  tu 
awakiMi  ainotiK  poopli!  who  witn*  an  warmly  and  Hiiiccridy  pioiiH  an  they 
were  iKnoraiit,  wan  thn  ahomitialdt!  guilt  of  this  iinposturo.  lint  tliii  rncro 
and  iiaktMl  lie,  had  uh  it  wur,  foniifd  only  a  part  of  the  awful  i;iiilt  of  theoe 
monkM.  They  |)r('trnd(!r|  that  thin  blond,  though  hidd  l)«*for<!  thn  cyeg  o| 
a  man  in  mortal  HJri,  would  ho  invinihln  to  him,  and  would  continui!  to  bo 
■0  until  ht!  iihouM  havu  prrrormcd  good  workH  ftullioient  for  hiH  ahHolution, 
Such  a  talc  watt  atumdaiitly  sntnciiMii  to  cMirich  thit  monaatiTy,  hut  wht<n 
tho  "  viMitorn"  wcru  Hunt  thithur  by  the  king,,  the  wholo  stuTct  of  tin;  un- 
pudniit  fraud  at  onci*  hccamo  apparent.  Tht!  phial  in  which  tlic  blood  wan 
exhibitud  to  thi;  rrudulous  was  trantiparcnt  on  one  Hide,  but  coinplttcly 
opaque  on  the  other.  Into  this  phial  the  senior  monks,  who  alon(>  were 
ill  tho  secret,  every  week  put  some  fresh  blood  of  a  duek.  VVhcii  the  pil. 
grim  desired  to  be  shown  tho  blood  of  tho  Saviour  tho  irf)ai]ue  Hide  of  tho 
phial  was  turned  towards  him ;  ho  was  thus  ronvinced  that  he  was  in 
mortal  sin,  and  induced  to  "  perform  good  works,"  i,  c.,  to  be  tooled  out 
uf  lis  money,  uniil  thn  monks,  fiiulinir  that  he  eould  or  would  {^ivo  no 
mi'vc  at  that  time  turned  the  transparent  side  of  the  phial  to  him,  and  sent 
tiiiii  un  his  way  rejoicing  and  eager  to  send  other  dupes  to  the  monks  of 
Ilales. 

At  Boxley,  near  Maidstone,  in  Kent,  there  was  kept  a  crurifix  called  tho 
rood  of  ^race,  Mie  lips,  eyes,  and  head  of  which  were  seen  to  move  when 
the  pilgrim  approaidied  it  with  such  gifts  as  were  satisfactory;  at  the  desire 
3f  Hilsey,  bishop  of  Rochester,  this  miraculous  crucifix  was  taken  to  Loii- 
don  and  publicly  pulled  to  pieces  at  Paul's  cross,  when  it  was  made  clear 
that  the  image  was  filled  with  wheels  and  springs  by  which  the  so-called 
miraculous  iiioiioiis  were  resruhited  by  tho  oiTiciating  priests, literally  as  the 
temper  of  their  customers  required. 

How  serious  a  tax  the  nreleiided  miraculous  images  and  genuine  relics 
levied  upon  the  people  of  the  whole  kingdom,  wc  mayjiidfre  from  the  fact, 
that  of  upwards  of  six  hundred  monasteries  and  two  thousand  chantries  and 
chapels  which  Henry  at  various  times  demolished,  comparatively  few  were 
wholly  free  from  this  worst  of  impostures,  while  the  sums  received  by 
some  of  them  individually  may  be  called  enormous.  For  instance,  the 
pilgrims  to  tlie  tomb  of  St.  Thomas  h  Becket  paid  upwards  of  nine  hun- 
dred pounds  in  one  year— or  something  very  like  three  thousand  pounds 
of  our  present  money  !  The  knowledge  of  su(di  a  disgraceful  fact  as  this 
would  of  itself  have  justified  Henry  in  adoptiiiij  moderately  strong  mea- 
sures to  put  an  end  to  the  "  Pilgrimage  to  Canterbury."  But  moderation 
was  not  Henry's  characteristic,  and  Becket  was  a  saint  especially  hateful 
to  him  as  having  fouufht  the  battle  of  the  triple  crown  of  Rome  against  tlie 
king  of  Kngland.  Not  content,  therefore,  with  taking  the  proper  measures 
of  mere  policy  that  were  rcquiretrto  put  an  end  to  a  sort  of  plunder  so  dis- 
graceful, Henry  ordered  the  saint  who  had  reposed  for  centuries  in  tlie 
tomb  to  be  formally  cited  to  appear  in  court  to  answer  to  an  information 
laid  against  him  by  the  king's  attorney  !  "  It  had  been  suggested,"  says 
Dr.  Lingard,  "  that  as  long  as  the  name  of  .St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury 
should  remain  in  the  calendar  men  would  be  stimulated  by  his  example  to 
brave  the  ecclesiastical  authority  of  their  sovereign.  The  king's  attornev 
was  therefore  instructed  to  exhibit  an  information  against  him,  and  Tlio- 
iiias  Ji  Becket,  sometime  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  formally  cited  lo 
appear  in  court  and  answer  to  the  charge.  The  interval  of  thirty  days 
allowed  by  the  canon  law  was  suflTcred  to  elapse,  and  still  the  saint 
neglected  to  quit  the  tomb  in  which  he  had  reposed  for  two  centuries  and 
a  half,  and  judgment  would  have  been  given  against  him  by  default,  had 


THK  TllKAHL/llY  OI"   IH.-*r()KY. 


465 


not  dm  kitiK  of  Kin  Rpfcial  ftwe  iiimiKned  turn  coiinsf  I.  The  court  ■ul  •! 
WmtiiiiiiHter,  titr  ntt()riii'y-t(<-iifr.il  uiid  llic  ikIvim-hU*  of  Die  ucciiNfd  wit* 
ht'.ird,  and  Neiit«Mici>  wait  nimlly  |)Mri<iui;ci'd  (lint  TlioiiiiiH,  nuiiiclliiif  arch* 
IhmIioii  of  ( 'iiiitcrhiiry,  hud  liccii  Kinlty  of  nlirllMtii,  roniutnucy,  and  IrtMuon, 
timt  lilt  lK)iicit  nlioidil  he  piililicly  burned  lo  adnioniHli  tlif  living  of  ihnr 
(iiiiy  by  the  punishiniMit  v(  tht-  duad,  and  that  the  (itffrin}{M  which  had  Uvvn 
tnado  at  his  Hhrinc,  the  piTRunal  pro|M'rly  of  the  repiitud  saint  ahinild  be 
forfeitrd  to  th«  crown.  A  lonimiMHion  wan  aciunlMiuly  immt'd,  the  8t*n- 
tcnro  wuH  exfcutcd  in  duu  form,  and  tliu  ((old,  Mdver  and  it'wt■l^<,  the  N|iodii 
ohtaint'd  bv  tin-  demolition  of  the  vlirinu  were  c-onveyed  in  two  jumilrruuM 
coffem,  to  the  royul  IrraKUiy.  The  pt  (»ple  wen^  noon  afterwards  inldrmed 
hy  a  royal  proclamation  that  TiiomaH  i  Ucc  ket  waH  no  aamt,  but  rather  • 
ri'lud  and  a  traitor,  and  it  waH  ordered  lo  era^«  his  name  out  of  all  books, 
under  puin  of  his  iuuJcHty*H  indignation,  and  iniprisunmcnt  ut  his  grace's 
pleasun?." 

We  have  Bidected  Lingard's  account  of  thiH  matter  because  that  hiilo- 
rian  haH  a  very  evident  leaning;  to  the  catholic  wide  of  every  question  of 
Kii^rlisdi  history,  and  yet  he,  uncoiiNcionsly,  perhapfl,  in  the  words  of  the 
Hhovv  passaKi)  which  wo  havu  printed  in  italics,  goca  far  towanlH  Jiisiifying 
IIiMiry*M  ineaNures  aKainst  tiic  monkidh  BuperMtitioiiH  and  imposlures,  no 
matter  what  hlH  inotiveH  may  liavi;  been.  What!  gold,8ilver,  and  jewels 
thus  abHtructed  from  tlio  wealth  of  tho  nation  and  made  perpetually  incoii- 
vertible  and  unproductive,  and  yi!t  the  keepers  of  the  shrine  uf  the  pre- 
tended saint  and  miracle-worker  still  hu  iiisatiato  tiiat  they  drew  nearly 
a  thousand  pounds  of  the  money  of  that  time  in  a  siii^dc  year!  The  pal- 
trieot  sinatteriii|r  of  true  political  economy  would  tidl  us  that  such  a  Htate 
of  thinuH,  existing  as  it  did  all  tiver  the  kingdom,  if  unchecked  for  but  a 
few  years  hy  the  sovereiifu,  would  have  been  terminated  by  a  m  i  san- 
quinary  revolt  of  the  ruined  people,  whose  hunger  would  have  been  too 
strong  for  both  tlicir  own  i<jiioranee  and  the  villainy  and  itig"iiuity  of  their 
dehiders.  And  it  is  to  ho  remembered  that  although  Henry  was  unwisely, 
nay,  wickedly  profuse  of  tho  property  which  he  recovered  from  a  set  of 
vile  corporations  which  had  obtained  possession  of  it  by  false  pretences, 
it  was  of  only  a  part  of  this  property  that  ho  thus  improperly  disposed. 
Kvcry  monk  who  was  dispossessed  of  an  idle  case  which  he  ought  never 
to  have  had,  received  a  yearly  allowance  of  eight  marks,  and  every  abbot 
and  prior  had  a  yearly  allowance  proportioned  to  his  character  and  the  in- 
come of  his  abbacy  or  priory.  Making  these  provisions  must  have  coa- 
siiined  a  largo  portion  of  the  money  realized  by  the  seizures  of  monastic 
property ;  but,  besides  these,  the  king  in  idc  and  endowed,  from  the  same 
source,  six  new  bishopricks,  Westminister,  Oxlm  J,  Peterboiouirh,  Uristol, 
Chester,  and  Gloucester.  When  these  facts  are  taken  into  the  account, 
the  "profit"  derived  by  the  king,  that  the  vulgar  and  more  violently  pa- 
pistical  writers  are  fond  of  talking  about,  will  be  found  to  iuiiount  to  little 
indeed. 

Cardinal  Pole,  a  near  kinsman  of  Henry,  and  eminent  alike  for  talents 
and  virtue,  had  long  resided  on  the  continent,  and  to  his  powerful  and  ele- 
gant pen  Henry  attributed  many  of  tho  forcible,  eloquent — and  sometimes 
we  may  add,  scurrilous — declamations  which  the  papists  of  Italy  contin- 
ually sent  forth  against  him  whom  the  popedom  had  once  hailed  and  flat- 
tered as  the  defender  of  the  faith,  but  whom  it  now  denounced  as  another 
Julian  alike  in  talents  and  in  apostacy.  Henry,  unable  to  decoy  the  as- 
tute cardinal  into  his  power,  arrested  and  put  to  death  first  the  brcilhei? 
and  then  the  mother  of  that  eminent  person,  the  venerable  countess  of  Sal 
isbury.  Real  charge  against  this  lady,  then  upwards  of  seventy  years  oi 
age,  there  was  none ;  but  the  ever  obsequious  parliament  passed  an  act 
atliiinting  her  in  th& absence  of  any  trial  or  confession.  After  two  yeait 
of  rigorous  confinement  in  the  Tower  of  London  the  countess  was  brougDt 
Vol.  1 — 30 


466 


THB  TRBA8UEY  OP  HISTORY. 


ovif  for  execiitidn ;  and  as  she  refused  to  lay  her  head  upon  the  block,  the 
oxecutioger's  assistant  hud  to  place  her  and  keep  her  there  by  main  force, 
and  even  as  the  axe  descended  on  her  neck  she  cried  out  "  Blessed  are 
they  who  suffer  persecution  for  righteousness  sake." 

At  the  dictation  of  Henry  the  parliament  now  passed  a  bill  which  de 
Glared  "  That  in  the  cucharist  is  really  presented  the  natural  body  of  Chris 
under  the  forms  and  without  the  substance  of  bread  and  wine;   that  com 
munion  in  both  kinds  is  not  necessary  to  the  soul's  health ;  that  priests 
may  not  marry  by  the  laws  of  God;  that  vows  of  chastity  are  to  be  ob- 
served ;   that  private  masses  ought  to  be  retained ;  and  that  the  use  of 
auricular  confession  is  expedient  and  necessary."    Heavy  penalties  were 
denounced  on  any  who  should  act  contrary  to  the  above  articles ;  and 
Cranmer,  who  had  for  many  years  been  married,  could  only  save  himself 
from  the  effects  of  this  act — to  the  passing  of  which  he  had  made  a  stout 
but  ineffectual  opposition — by  sending  his  wife,  with  their  numeroun  chil- 
dren,  to  Germany,  of  which  country  she  was  a  native. 

The  frequent  changes  which  had,  during  a  quarter  of  a  century,  taken 
place  in  the  theological  opinions  of  the  king  himself,  did  not  by  any  means 
mspire  him  with  any  merciful  feeling  towards  those  who  chanced  to  differ 
from  his  temporary  opinion ;  he  had  thrown  off  the  clerical  pope  of  Rome 
only  to  set  up  quite  as  "infallible"  a  pope  in  the  person  of  the  king  of 
England.  A  London  schoolmaster,  named  Lambert,  was  unfortunate 
enough  to  contradict  a  sermon  of  Dr.  Taylor,  afterward  bishop  of  Lincoln, 
in  which  sermon  the  doctor  had  defended  the  prevalent  Catholic  doctrine 
of  the  "real  presence."  Lambert  had  already  been  imprisoned  for  his 
unsound  opinions,  but  having  learned  nothing  by  the  peril  he  had  so  nar- 
rowly escaped,  he  now  drew  up  formal  objections,  under  ten  heads. 
These  objections  he  made  known  to  Dr.  Barnes,  who  was  a  Lutheran  and 
who  consequently  was  as  obnoxious  to  the  existing  law  as  Lambert,  whom 
he  caused  to  be  cited  before  Cranmer  and  Latimer.  They,  however  much 
they  might  agree  with  him  in  their  hearts,  did  not  dare  publicly  to  oppose 
themselves  to  the  standard  of  opinion  which  the  arbitrary  Henry  had  set 
up  under  the  protection  of  shocking  penalties,  but  they  took  a  middle 
course,  and  endeavoured  to  prevail  upon  Lambert  to  save  his  life  by  a 
timely  recantation ;  but  he  appealed  from  their  judgment  to  that  of  the 
king  himself.  Henry,  ever  well  pleased  to  exercise  his  controversial 
powers,  caused  it  to  be  made  as  public  as  possible  that  he  would  in  person 
try  the  soundness  of  Master  Lambert's  opinions.  Westminster  Hall  was 
fitted  up  for  the  occasion  with  scaffoldings  and  seats  for  such  as  chose  to 
be  present,  and  the  king  took  his  seat  upon  the  throne,  clad  in  white  silk 
robes,  and  surrounded  by  the  bishops,  the  judges,  and  the  chief  officers  of 
state.  Lambert's  articles  being  read,  the  king  in  a  set  speech  replied  to 
the  first ;  Cranmer,  Gardiner,  and  others  following  in  refutation  of  other 
articles,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  arguments  which  lasted  five  hours,  and 
in  which  the  king  was  as  grossly  flattered  as  the  poor  vain  schoolmaster 
was  unfairly  brow-beaten,  Henry  asked  the  poor  man  whether  the  argu- 
ments had  cleared  his  mind  of  doubtb,  to  which  question  he  added  the  no 
less  interesting  one,  "Will  you  live  or  die  !"  Lambert,  unconvinced  by 
all  that  he  had  heard,  noticed  only  the  last  part  of  the  king's  speech,  and 
replied,  that  for  his  life  he  would  hold  it  at  his  majesty's  gracious  mercy; 
to  which  Henry  ungraciously,  not  to  say  cruelly,  assured  him,  that  he  was 
not  minded  to  show  himself  the  patron  of  heretics,  and  Cromwell  was 
ordered  to  pass  sentence  on  the  prisoner,  whose  chief  offence  seems  to 
have  been  his  folly  in  cravuig  the  notice  of  the  king  by  a  most  gratuitous 
and  useless  display  of  opinions  which  no  earthly  power  could  have  pre. 
vented  him  from  enjoying  in  safety,  had  he  consented  to  do  so  in  secrecy 
The  unfortunate  man  was  burned  to  death,  and  as  he  was  supposed  to  be 
personally  obnoxious  to  Henry  from  having  ventured  publicly  to  dispult 


block,  the 
nuin  force, 
blessed  are 

which  de 
y  of  Chrii 

that  com 
liat  priests 

to  be  ob- 
the  use  of 
lilies  were 
icles ;  and 
ive  himself 
ade  a  stout 
erouo  chil- 

tury,  taken 
any  means 
ed  to  differ 
»e  of  Rome 
he  king  of 
nifortunate 
of  Lincoln, 
ic  doctrine 
led  for  his 
lad  so  nar- 
len  heads, 
itheran  and 
bert,  whom 
'ever  much 
y  to  oppose 
ry  had  set 
:  a  middle 
J  life  by  a 
that  of  the 
introversial 
Id  in  person 
r  Hall  was 
as  chose  to 

white  silk 
r  officers  ol 

replied  to 
an  of  other 

hours,  and 
hoolmaster 
r  the  argu- 
Jded  the  no 
nvinccd  by 
speech,  and 
ous  mercy; 
that  he  was 
mwell  was 
8  seems  to 
:  gratuitous 
i  have  pre. 
in  secrecy 
)osed  to  be 
r  to  disputt 


fi^i 


Tbial  or  Lambert  befoue  Hkniiy  VIII.  in  Wkstminstir  Hau. 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


467 


witti  Tifm,  the  cruel  executioners  purposely  made  the  Are  so  slow  mat  his 
legs  anr*  thighs  were  gradually  consumed  before  the  flames  even  ap- 
proBc'i  ny  vital  part.  The  long  tortures  to  which  this  poor  man  was 
8ubj<'.':  Ht  length  so  greatly  disgusted  some  of  the  guards,  that  with  their 
haibe"  Uiey  threw  him  farther  into  the  flames,  and  he  there  perished, 
exclaiir.iii;j  with  his  last  breath,  '*  None  but  Christ,  none  but  Christ  T' 
Many  other  cruel  executions  took  place  about  this  time. 

In  August,  1537,  Henry's  third  queen,  the  lady  Jane  Seymour,  gave 
birth  to  a  prince,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  king,  whose  joy,  however,  was 
much  dimmished,  when,  in  a  few  days,  this  best  beloved  and  most  amiable 
of  all  his  wives  died.  He  soon  after  commenced  negotiations  for  a  new 
marriage,  but  being  disappointed  in  his  views  on  the  duchess  dowager  n( 
Longucville,  and  being  then  refused  by  Francis  permission  to  choose  be- 
tween the  two  sisters  of  that  lady  precisely  as  he  would  have  chosen  shoep 
or  oxen,  he  was  persuaded  by  Cromwell  to  demand  the  hand  of  Anne  oi 
Cleves,  sister  of  the  reigning  duke.  Her  portrait,  of  course  a  flattering 
one,  from  the  pencil  of  the  celebrated  Hans  Holbein,  caused  Henry  to 
fancy  himself  very  much  enamoured  of  her,  and  when  he  learned  that  she 
had  landed  at  Dover,  he  actually  rode  as  far  as  Rochester  in  disguise,  that 
he  might  unseen,  or  at  least  unknown,  have  a  glance  at  her  to,  in  his  own 
phrase,  "  nourish  his  love."  This  glance,  however,  •'  nursed"  a  very  dif- 
ferent feeling.  The  difference  between  the  delicate  limning  of  Hans  Hol« 
bein,  and  the  especially  vast  person  and  coarse  complexion  of  the  lady, 
so  disgusted  and  surprised  Henry,  that  he  passionately  swore  that  they 
had  chosen  him  not  a  woman  and  a  princess,  but  a  Flanders  mare  ;  and 
he  would  have  fain  sent  her  back  without  a  word  said  to  her,  but  that  he 
was  afraid  of  offending  the  German  princes  connected  with  her  brother, 
and  thus  raising  against  himself  a  too  powerful  coalition.  Detesting  the 
very  sight  of  Anne,  and  yet  feeling  obliged  to  marry  her,  the  king  was  not 
long  ere  he  made  the  full  weight  of  his  indignation  fall  upon  the  head  oi 
Cromwell.  That  too  servilely  obedient  minister  now  had  to  feel  in  per- 
son the  very  same  injustice  which,  at  his  instigation,  the  detestably  syco- 
phantic parliament  had  so  recently  inflicted  upon  the  venerable  countess 
of  Salisbury.  He  was  accused  of  high  treason,  denied  a  public  trial,  and 
a  bill  of  attainder  passed  both  houses,  without  even  one  of  the  many  whom 
he  had  befriended  having  the  generous  courage  to  show  that  gratitude  to 
him  which  he,  under  similar  circumstances,  had  shown  to  Cardinal  Wol- 
sey.  Having  got  judgment  passed  against  Cromwell,  Henry  now  turned 
his  attention  to  obtaining  a  divorce  from  Anne  of  Cleves.  Even  he  could 
scarcely  make  it  a  capital  offence  to  have  coarse  features  and  an  awkward 
figure ;  moreover,  the  influence  of  Anne's  brother  was  such  as  to  make  it 
unsafe  for  Henry  to  proceed  to  any  thing  like  violent  steps  against  her. 
Fortunately,  however,  for  the  comfort  of  both  parties,  if  he  viewed  her 
with  disgust,  she  viewed  him  with  the  most  entire  indifference ;  and  she 
readily  consented  to  be  divorced  on  Henry  giving  her  three  thousand 
pounds  per  annum,  the  royal  palace  of  Richmond  for  a  residence,  and  such 
precedence  at  court  as  she  would  have  enjoyed  had  she  been  his  sister 
instead  of  being  his  divorced  wife. 

Six  days  after  ihe  passing  of  the  bill  of  attainder  against  Cromwell,  that 
minister  was  executed,  no  one  seeming  to  feel  sorrow  for  him  ;  the  poor 
hating  him  for  the  share  he  had  taken  in  the  suppression  of  the  monaste- 
ries, and  the  rich  detesting  him  for  having  risen  from  a  mere  peasant  birth 
to  rank  so  high  and  power  so  great. 

As  if  to  show  that  he  really  cared  less  for  either  protestantism  or  popery 
than  he  did  for  his  own  will  and  pleasure,  the  king  ordered  just  now  the 
execution  of  Powel,  Abel,  and  Featherstone,  catholics  who  ventured  to 
deny  the  king's  supremacy,  and  of  Barnes,  Garret,  and  Jerome,  for  the 
3pposite  offence  of  being  more  protestant  than  it  pleased  the  king  that 


if^ 


THE  TRBABUBY  OF  HI8TOEY. 


Ihey  should  be !  And  to  render  this  impartiality  in  despotism  the  mora 
awfully  impressive,  the  protestant  and  catholic  offenders  were  drawn  to 
the  stake  in  Smithfield  on  the  same  huidle ! 

A.  n.  1541. — Though  the  king  had  now  been  married  four  times,  and, 
certainly,  with  no  such  happiness  as  would  have  made  marriage  seem  so 
very  desirable,  the  divorce  from  Anne  of  Cleves  was  scarcely  accom- 
plished ere  his  council  memoralised  him  to  take  another  wife,  and  he 
complied  by  espousing  the  niece  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk.  This  lady,  by 
name  Catherine  Howard,  was  said  to  have  won  the  heart  of  the  king  "  by 
her  notable  appearance  of  honour,  cleanliness,  and  maidenly  behav- 
iour," and  so  well  was  the  king  at  first  satisfied  with  this  his  fifth  wife, 
that  he  not  only  behaved  to  her  with  remarkable  tenderness  and  respect, 
but  even  caused  the  bishop  of  London  to  compose  a  form  of  thanksgiving 
for  the  felicity  his  majesty  enjoyed.  But  the  new  queen,  being  a  catliolic, 
had  many  enemies  among  the  reformers;  and  intelligence  was  soon 
brought  to  Cranmer  of  such  conduct  on  the  part  of  Catherine  before  mar- 
riage as  he  dared  not  conceal  from  the  king,  though  it  was  by  no  means  a 
safe  thing  to  speak  upon  so  delicate  a  matter.  In  fact,  so  much  did  Cran- 
mer dread  the  violent  temper  of  the  king,  that  he  committed  the  painful 
intelligence  to  writing.  Henry  was  at  first  perfectly  incredulous  ai>  to  the 
guilt  of  a  woman  whose  manners  and  appearance  had  so  greatly  imposed 
upon  him.  He  ordered  her  arrest,  and  while  in  durance,  she  was  visited 
by  a  deputation  from  Henry  and  exhorted  to  speak  the  truth,  in  the  assu- 
rance that  her  husband  would  rejoice  at  her  innocence,  and  that  the  laws 
were  both  just  and  strong  enough  to  protect  her.  As  she  hesitated  to 
answer,  a  bill  of  attainder  was  passed  against  her,  and  then  she  confessed 
that  her  past  life  had  been  debauched,  to  an  extent  that  cannot  with  de- 
cency be  particularised.  It  must  suffice  to  say,  that  the  revolting  and 
gross  shamelessness  of  her  conduct  before  marriage,  as  deposed  by  oth- 
ers,  and  in  general  terms  confessed  by  herself,  render  it  scarcely  possible 
for  any  one  acquainted  with  human  nature,  and  the  laws  of  evidence,  to 
place  the  slightest  reliance  upon  her  assertions  of  the  innocence  of  her 

Enst-nuptial  conduct ;  though,  as  she  belonged  to  the  catholic  party,  the 
istortans  of  that  party  have  taken  some  pains  to  justify  her,  The  most 
abandoned  of  her  sex  might  blush  for  the  shameless  guilt  of  which  she 
had,  by  her  own  confession  been  guilty;  and  the  historian  of  any  party 
must  have  a  strange  notion  of  the  tenets  of  his  party,  and  of  the  true  na- 
ture of  his  own  vocation,  who  seeks  for  party-sake  to  prop  up  a  character 
80  loathsome. 

A.  D.  1542. — Having  put  the  shameless  wanton  to  death,  by  the  tyran- 
nous mode  of  attainder,  together  with  her  paramours  and  her  confidante, 
that  unprincipled  lady  Rochfort,  who  had  taken  so  principal  a  part  in  the 
death  of  Anne  Boleyn,  Henry  caused  a  law  to  be  passed,  that  any  woman 
who  should  marry  him,  or  any  of  his  successors,  should,  if  incontinent 
before  marriage,  reveal  that  disgrace  on  pain  of  death  ;  on  the  passing  of 
which  law  the  people  jocosely  remarked  that  the  king's  best  plan  would 
be  to  take  a  widow  for  his  next  wife. 

Henry  now  employed  some  time  in  mitigating  the  severe  six  articles 
80  far  as  regarded  the  marriage  of  priests ;  but  he  made,  at  the  same  time, 
considerable  inroads  upon  the  property  of  both  the  regular  and  secular 
cleri;y.  Still  bent  upon  upholding  and  exerting  his  supremacy,  he  also 
encouraged  appeals  from  the  spiritual  to  the  civil  courts,  of  which  Hume 
as  pithily  as  justly  says  that  it  was  "  a  happy  innovation,  though  at  first 
invented  for  arbitrary  purposes."  He  now  also  issued  a  small  volume  en- 
titled "  The  Institution  of  a  Christian  Man,"  in  which  in  his  usual  arbi- 
trary style,  and  without  the  least  apparent  consciousness  of  the  inconsist- 
ent veering  he  had  displayed  on  theological  subjects,  he  prescribed  to  his 
9eople  how  they  should  believe  and  think  upon  the  delicate  matters  oi 


THE  TREASUBY  OF  HISTORY. 


460 


articles 
,me  time, 
secular 
he  also 
;h  Hume 
h  at  first 
_ume  en- 
jual  arbi- 
Hcoasiat- 
)6d  to  his 
lattcrs  01 


ta«tific4tion,  free-will,  gnod-works,  and  grace,  with  as  mnch  coolness  as 
though  his  ordinances  had  concerned  merely  the  rashionofa  jerkin,  or  the 
length  of  a  cross-bow  bolt.  Having  made  some  very  inefficient  alterations 
in  the  mass-book,  Henry  presently  sent  forth  another  little  volume,  called 
the  '*  Erudition  of  a  Christian  Man."  in  this  he  flatly  contradicted  the  "  In. 
stitution  of  a  Christian  Man,'*  and  that,  too,  upon  matters  of  by  no  means 
secondary  importance;  but  he  just  as  peremptorily  and  self-complacently 
called  upon  his  subjects  to  follow  him  now  as  he  had  when  just  before  he 
pointed  a  directly  opposite  path ! 

The  successful  rivalship  of  his  nephew,  James  of  Scotland,  in  the  aff"ec- 
tions  of  Marie,  dowager  duchess  of  Longueville,  gave  deep  oflTence  to 
Henry,  which  was  still  farther  irritated  into  hatred  by  James*  adhesion 
to  the  ancient  faith,  and  his  close  correspondence  with  the  pope,  the  em- 
peror Charles,  and  Francis,  of  which  Henry  was  perfectly  well  informed 
by  the  assiduity  of  his  ambassador.  Sir  Ralph  Sadler.  These  personal 
feeling-s,  fully  as  much  as  any  political  considerations,  caused  Henry  to 
commence  a  war  which  almost  at  the  outset  caused  James  to  die  of  over- 
excited anxiety ;  but  of  this  war  we  shall  hereafter  have  to  speak. 

The  king  in  his  sixth  marriage  made  good  the  jesting  prophecy  of  the 
people  by  taking  to  wife  Catherine  Parr,  widow  of  Nevil,  Lord  Latimer. 
She  was  a  friend  to  the  reformed,  but  a  woman  of  too  much  prudence  to 
peril  herself  injudiciously.  He  treated  her  with  great  respect,  and  in  1544, 
when  he  led  a  large  and  expensive  expedition,  with  considerably  more 
eclat  than  advantage,  he  left  her  regent  during  his  absence  from  England. 
Subsequently,  however,  the  queen,  in  spite  of  her  prudence,  was  more 
than  once  in  imminent  danger.  Anne  Askew,  a  lady  whom  she  had 
)penly  and  greatly  favoured,  imprudently  provoked  the  king  by  opposi- 
iion  upon  the  capital  point  of  the  real  presence,  and  chancellor  Wriottes- 
ley,  who  had  to  interrogate  the  unhappy  lady,  being  a  bigoted  catholic,  it 
was  greatly  feared  that  his  extreme  severity  might  induce  her  lo  confess 
how  far  Catherine  and  the  chief  court  ladies  were  implicated  in  her  obnox- 
ious opinions.  Young,  lovely,  and  delicate,  the  poor  girl  was  laid  upon 
the  rack  and  questioned,  but  torture  itself  failed  to  extort  an  answer  to 
the  questions  by  which  the  chancellor  endeavoured  to  come  at  the  queen. 
So  enraged  wbs  that  most  brutal  officer,  that  he  ordered  the  lieutenant  of 
the  Tower  to  stretch  the  rack  still  farther,  and  on  his  refusing  to  do  so, 
"  laid  his  own  hand  to  the  rack  and  drew  it  so  violently  that  he  almost  tore  her 
body  asunder.^'  This  diabolical  cruelty  served  no  other  purpose  than  to 
make  his  own  name  infamous  while  the  annals  of  England  shall  remain. 
The  heroic  girl  bore  her  horrible  torture  with  unflinching  fortitude,  and 
was  carried  to  the  stake  in  a  chair,  her  body  being  so  maimed  and  dislo- 
cated that  she  could  not  walk.  She  suffered  at  the  same  time  with  John 
Lascelles,  of  the  king's  household,  John  Adams,  tailor,  and  Nicholas  Ble- 
nun,  a  priest. 

Subsequently  the  queen  was  again  much  endangered.  Though  she  had 
never  pretended  to  interfere  with  his  conduct,  she  would  occasionally 
argue  with  him  in  private.  He  had  by  this  time  become  fearfully  bloated, 
and  an  ulcer  in  his  leg  caused  him  so  much  agony  that  "  he  was  as  furious 
as  a  chained  tiger."  His  natural  vehemence  and  intolerance  of  opposition 
were  consequently  much  increased  under  such  circumstances ;  and  Cath- 
erine's arguments  at  length  so  ofllended  him,  that  he  complained  of  hei 
conduct  to  Gardiner  and  Wriottesley.  They,  bigoted  friends  to  the  cath- 
olic party,  were  proportionally  inimical  to  Catherine  as  a  friend  of  the 
reformed  ;  and  they  encouraged  his  ill  temper,  and  so  dexterously  argued 
upon  the  peculiar  necessity  of  putting  down  her^^sy  in  the  high  places, 
that  he  actually  gave  orders  for  her  being  sent  to  the  Tower  on  the  fol- 
lowing day.  She  was  fortunate  enough  to  get  information  of  what  was 
in  store  for  her,  and  her  cool  temper  and  shrewd  woman's  wit  sufficed  to 


«70 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


save  her  from  her  enemies.  She  well  knew  that  as  lust  had  been  the 
crime  of  Henry's  manhood,  bo  vanity— that  vanity  which  cannot  endure 
even  the  pettiest  opposition — was  the  great  spring  of  his  actions  now  that 
his  eye  was  growing  dim  and  his  natural  force  abated.  She  paid  him  her 
usual  visit  that  day,  and  when  he  tried  to  draw  her  into  their  common 
course  of  argument,  she  said  that,  arguments  in  divinity  were  not  proper 
for  women  ;  that  women  should  follow  the  principles  of  their  husbands,  as 
she  made  a  point  of  following  his ;  and  that  though,  in  the  belief  that  it 
something  alleviated  his  physical  sufferings,  she  sometimes  pretended  tu 
oppose  him,  she  never  did  so  until  she  had  exhausted  ail  her  poor  means 
of  otherwise  amusing  him."  The  bait  to  his  inordinate  vanity  was  easily 
taken.  "  Is  it  so,  sweetheart  ?"  he  exclaimed,  "  then  we  are  perfect  friends 
again,"  and  he  embraced  her  affectionately.  On  the  following  day  the 
chancellor  and  his  far  more  respectable  myrmidons  the  pursuivants  went 
to  apprehend  the  queen,  when  the  sanguinary  man  was  sent  away  with  a 
volley  of  downright  abuse,  such  as  Henry  could  bestow  as  well  »s  the 
meanest  of  his  subjects  when  once  his  temper  was  fully  aroused.  * 

A.  D.  1547. — In  almost  all  Henry's  persecutions  of  persons  of  any  emi- 
nence,  careful  observation  will  generally  serve  to  discover  something  of 
that  personal  ill-feeling  which  in  a  man  of  lower  rank  would  be  called 
personal  spite.  Thus  the  duke  of  Norfolk  and  his  son,  the  earl  of  Surrey, 
were  now  ariested  and  charged  with  various  overt  acts  which  caused 
them — as  the  charges  ran — to  be  suspected  of  high  treason.  Their  real,  and 
their  only  real  crime  was  their  relationship  to  Catherine  Howard,  his  fifth 
queen.  The  very  frivolous  nature  of  the  charges  proves  that  this  was  the 
case,  but  the  despicably  servile  parliament,  as  usual,  attended  only  to  the 
king's  wishes,  and  both  Norfolk  and  his  son  were  condemned.  The  pro- 
ceedings  in  the  case  of  the  latter,  from  his  being  a  commoner,  were  more 
speedy  than  that  of  his  father,  and  the  gallant  young  Surrey  was  execu- 
ted. Orders  were  also  given  for  the  execution  of  Norfolk  on  the  morning 
of  the  29th  of  January,  1547 ;  but  on  the  night  of  the  28th  the  furious  king 
himself  died,  in  the  thirty-seventh  year  of  his  arbitrary  reign  and  in  the 
fifty-sixth  of  his  age;  and  the  council  of  the  infant  prince  Edward  VI. 
wisely  respited  the  duke's  sentence,  from  which  he  was  released  at  the 
accession  of  Queen  Mary. 

That  the  character  of  Henry  was  per  se  bad,  few  can  doubt  that  have 
read  his  reign  attentively  ;  but  neither  will  any  just  man  deny,  that  he,  so 
gay  and  generou.i,  so  frank  and  so  great  a  lover  of  literature  in  youth, 
owed  not  a  little  of  his  subsequent  wickedness  to  the  grossly  servile  adu- 
lation of  the  great,  and  to  the  dastardly  submission  of  the  parliament. 
What  could  be  expected  from  a  man,  naturally  vain,  to  whom  the  able 
Cromwell  could  say,  that  "  he  was  unable,  and  he  believed  all  men  were 
unable,  to  describe  the  unutterable  qualities  of  the  royal  mind,  the  sub- 
lime virtues  of  the  royal  heart ;"  to  whom  Rich  could  say,  that  *'  in  wis- 
dom he  was  equal  to  Solomon,  in  strength  and  courage  to  Sampson,  in 
beauty  and  address  to  Absalom  ;"  and  what  could  be  expected  from  a  man, 
naturally  violent  and  contemptuous  of  human  life,  who  found  both  houses 
of  parliament  vile  enough  to  slay  whoever  he  pleased  to  denounce  1  An 
arbitrary  reign  was  that  of  Henry,  but  it  wrought  as  much  for  the  perma- 
nent,  religious,  and  moral  good  of  the  nation,  as  the  storms  and  tempests, 
beneath  which  we  cower  while  they  last,  work  for  the  physical  atmosphere. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

THE  REION  OF  KDWARD  VI. 

i.  D.  1547. — Henry's  will  fixed  the  majority  of  his  son  and  successor 
Edward  VI.,  at  the  age  of  eighteen.    The  young  prince  at  the  time  of  hiii 


THE  TRBABURY  OF  HISTORY. 


411 


1 1 


cesser 

1  of  hi* 


fathcr^s  death  was  but  a  Tew  montirs  more  than  nine,  and  the  government 
was  during  his  minority  vested  in  sixteen  executors,  viz.,  Cranmer,  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury ;  Lord  Wriottesley,  chancellor ;  Lord  St.  John,  great 
master;  Ix)rd  Russell,  privy  seal ;  the  earl  of  Hertford, chamberlain;  Vis- 
comit  Lisle,  admiral ;  Tonstall,  bishop  of  Durham ;  Sir  Anthony  Browne, 
master  of  the  horse  ;  Sir  William  Paget,  secretary  of  state ;  Sir  Edward 
Forth,  chancellor  of  the  court  of  augmentations;  Sir  Edward  Montague, 
chief. justice  of  the  common  pleas;  Judge  Bromley,  Sir  Anthony  Denny, 
and  Sir  William  Herbert,  chief  gentlemen  of  the  privy  chamber ;  Sir  E(i 
ward  Wotton,  treasurer  of  Calais  ;  and  Dr.  Wotton,  dean  of  Canterbury* 
Not  only  did  Henry  VIH.  name  these  councillors,  some  of  whom  were 
in  station  at  least,  far  below  so  important  a  trust,  but  he  laid  down  a  course 
of  conduct  for  them  with  a  degree  of  minuteness,  which  shows  that  to  the 
very  close  of  his  career  his  unbounded  vanity  maintained  its  old  ascend- 
ancy over  his  naturally  shrewd  judgment,  and  that  he  expected  that  his 
political  and  religious  supremacy  would  be  respected  even  when  the  earth- 
worms and  the  damps  of  the  charnel-house  should  be  busy  with  his  inani- 
mate body.     The  very  first  meeting  of  the  councillors  showed  the  fallacy 
of  the  late  king's  anticipations.     He  evidently  intended  that  the  co-ordinate 
distribution  of  the  state  author!*/  should  render  it  impracticable  for  the 
ambition  of  any  one  great  subject  to  trouble  or  endanger  the  succession  of 
the  young  Edward  ;  and  this  very  precaution  was  done  away  with  by  the 
first  act  of  the  councillors,  who  agreed  that  it  was  necessary  that  some 
one  minister  should  have  prominent  and  separate  authority,  under  the 
title  of  protector,  to  sign  all  orders  and  proclamations,  and  to  communi- 
cate with  foreign  powers.     In  a  word,  they  determined  to  place  one  of 
their  number  in  precisely  that  tempting  propinquity  to  the  throne,  to  guard 
against  which  had  been  a  main  object  of  Henry's  care  and  study.    The 
earl  of  Hertford,  maternal  uncle  to  the  king,  seemed  best  entitled  to  thiH 
high  office,  and  he  was  accordingly  chosen,  in  spite  of  the  opposition  of 
Chancellor  Wriottesley,  who  from  his  talents  and  experience  had  antici- 
pated that  he  himself,  in  reality  though  not  formally,  would  occupy  this 
very  position. 

Having  made  this  most  important  and  plainly  unauthorised  alteration 
in  Henry's  arrangement,  the  council  now  gave  orders  for  the  interment 
of  the  deceased  monarch.  The  body  lay  in  state  in  the  chapel  of  White- 
hall, which  was  hung  with  fine  black  cloth.  Eighty  large  black  tapers 
were  kept  constantly  burning;  twelve  lords  sat  round  within  a  rail  as 
mourners ;  and  every  day  masses  and  dirges  were  performed.  At  the 
commencement  of  each  service  Norroy,  king-at-arms,  cried  in  a  loud 
voice,  "  Of  your  charity  pray  for  the  soul  of  the  high  and  mighty  prince, 
our  late  sovereign  lord,  Henry  the  Eighth."  On  the  14th  of  February  the 
body  was  removed  to  Sion  house,  and  thence  to  Windsor  on  the  following 
day,  and  on  the  16th  it  was  interred  near  that  of  Lady  Jane  Seymour  in  a 
vault  near  the  centre  of  the  choir.  Gardiner,  bishop  of  Winchester,  per- 
formed the  service  and  preached  a  sermon.  As  he  scattered  earth  upon 
the  coffin  and  pronounced,  in  Latin,  the  solemn  words,  "  Ashes  to  ashes 
and  dust  to  dust,"  certain  of  the  principal  attendants  broke  their  wands  of 
office  into  three  parts,  above  their  heads,  and  threw  the  pieces  upon  the 
"offin.  The  solemn  psalm  de  profundis  was  then  recited,  and  garter  king 
at  arms,  attended  by  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the  bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, proclaimed  the  style  and  titles  of  Edward  VL 

The  coronation  next  followed,  but  was  much  abridged  of  the  usual  cere- 
mony and  splendour,  chiefly  on  account  of  the  delicate  state  of  the  king's 
health.  The  executors  of  the  late  king,  though  they  had  so  importantly 
departed  from  the  express  directions  of  the  will  upon  some  points,  were 
very  exact  in  following  it  upon  others.  Thus,  Henry  had  charged  them 
to  make  certain  creations  or  promotions  in  the  peerage  ;  and  Hertford 


179 


THE  TRBA8URV  OF  HISTORY. 


was  now  made  dnke  of  Somerset,  marshal  and  lord  treasurer ;  his  oppo- 
nent, the  chancellor  Wriotiesley,  earl  of  Southampton  ;  the  earl  of  KHsex, 
marquis  of  Northampton;  Visrount  Lisle,  earl  of  Warwick  ;  Sir  Thomas 
Seymour,  Lord  Seymour  of  Sudley  and  admiral  of  Knjrland;  and  Sirs 
Richard  Rich,  William  Willoughhy,  and  Edmund  Sheffield,  barons.  Som- 
erset and  some  of  the  other  peers  were  at  the  same  time,  to  enable  them 
to  support  their  dignity,  gratified  with  deaneries,  prebends,  and  other  spir- 
itual benefices  ;  a  most  pernicious  precedent,  and  one  which  has  caused 
and  enabled  so  much  church  property  and  influence  to  be  placed  in  the 
hands  of  laymen,  many  of  whom  are  avowedly  and  flagrantly  dissenters 
from  the  doctrine  of  the  church,  and  foes  to  her  establishment. 

Wriottesley,  earl  of  Southampton,  was  greatly  disappointed  that  he,  in- 
stead of  Somerset,  had  not  been  chosen  protector ;  and  this  feeling  tended 
greatly  to  exasperate  the  political  opposition  which  had  ever  existed 
between  them.  Wriottesley,  with  a  want  of  judgment  strangely  in  con 
trast  with  his  usual  conduct,  gave  to  Somerset  an  opportunity  to  distress 
an*^  '  -  rtify  him,  of  which  that  proud  noble  was  not  slow  to  avail  hinisoH. 
Dcbuiiig  to  give  the  utmost  possible  amount  of  time  to  public  business, 
and  as  far  as  possible  to  share  and  check  the  authority  of  the  protector, 
Southampton,  merely  upon  his  own  authority,  put  the  great  seal  into  com- 
mission, empowering  four  lawyers  to  execute  the  office  of  chancellor  for 
him  ;  and  two  of  the  four  lawyers  thus  named  were  canonists,  which  gave 
some  appearance  to  his  conduct  of  a  desire  to  show  disrespect  to  the  com- 
mon law.  Somerset  and  his  party  eagerly  caught  at  this  indiscretion  of 
their  noble  and  resolute  opponent,  and  easily  obtained  from  the  Judges  an 
opinion  to  the  efTect  that  Southampton's  course  was  illegal  and  unjusti- 
liable,  and  that  he  had  forfeited  his  ofllce  and  even  laid  himself  open  to 
still  farther  punishment.  Southampton  was  accordingly  summoned  before 
the  council ;  and,  though  he  defended  himself  acutely,  he  was  condemned 
to  lose  the  great  seal,  to  pay  a  pecuniary  fine,  and  to  be  confined  to  his 
own  house  during  pleasure. 

Having  thus  opportunely  removed  his  most  powerful  and  persevering 
opponent,  Somerset  immediately  set  about  enlarging  his  own  power  and 
altering  its  foundation.  Professing  to  feel  a  delicacy  in  exercising  the 
extensive  powers  of  protector  while  holding  that  office  only  under  the  au- 
thority of  the  executors  of  the  late  king's  will,  he  obtained  from  the  young 
king  Edward  a  patent  which  gave  him  the  protectorate  with  full  regal 
powers,  and  which,  though  it  re-appointed  all  the  councillors  and  execu- 
tors named  in  Henry's  will,  with  the  sole  exception  of  Southampton,  ex- 
empted the  protector  from  his  former  obligations  to  consult  them  or  to  be 
bound  by  their  opinion. 

Aided  by  Cranmer,  the  protector,  in  spite  of  the  strong  and  able  opposi- 
tion of  Gardiner,  made  considerable  advances  in  religious  reformation; 
yet  made  them  with  a  most  prudent  and  praiseworthy  tenderness  to  the 
existing  prejudices  of  the  mass  of  that  generation.  Thus,  he  appointed 
▼isitors,  lay  and  clerical,  to  repress,  as  far  as  might  be  obvious,  impostures 
••xnd  flagrant  immoralities  on  the  part  of  the  catholic  clergy ;  but  he  at  the 
same  time  instructed  those  visitors  to  deal  respectfully  with  such  ceremo- 
nials as  were  yet  unabolished,  and  with  such  images  and  shrines  as  were 
unabused  to  the  purpose  of  idolatry.  While  thus  prudent,  in  tenderness 
to  the  inveterate  and  ineradicable  prejudices  of  the  ignorant,  he  with  a 
very  sound  policy  took  measures  for  weakening  the  mischievous  effects 
of  the  preaching  of  the  monks.  Many  of  these  men  were  placed  in  vacant 
chnrches,  that  so  the  exchequer  might  be  relieved,  pro  tanto,  of  the  pay- 
ment  of  the  annuities  settled  upon  them  at  the  suppression  of  religious 
houses.  As  it  was  found  that  they  took  advantage  of  their  position  to  in- 
stil into  the  minds  of  the  ignorant  the  worst  of  the  old  superstitions  and  a 
fierce  hatred  of  the  reformation  Somerset  now  compelled  them  to  avoid 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


473 


that  roinliict,  by  enjoining  upon  them  the  reading  of  certain  homilirs  hav- 
ing precisi'ly  the  opposite  teiidenoy  and  by  strictly  forbidding  iht-m  to 
preiich,  unless  by  special  indnlgence,  anywhere  save  in  their  own  parish 
churches.  The  monks  being  thus  strictly  jonfined  in  their  own  parish 
cliiirclies,  iiiid  limited  in  their  liberty  of  preaching  even  there,  while  the 
protesl'int  clergymen  could  always  insure  a  special  license  for  peripatetie 
prcacliiiig,  was  a  system  too  obviously  favoin-abie  to  the  reformation  to 
pass  uncensured  by  the  principal  catholic  champions.  UoniierHi  tlie  out- 
set gave  the  protector's  measures  open  and  strong  opposition,  but  subs  - 
quciitly  agreed  to  them.  Gardiner,  a  less  violent  but  far  firmer  and  more 
consisleiii  man,  because,  probably,  a  far  more  sincere  man,  was  staunch 
in  his  opposition.  He  was  of  opinion  that  the  reformation  could  not  be 
carried  a.iy  farther  but  with  real  and  great  danger.  "  It  is,"  said  he,  "a 
dangerous  thing  to  use  too  itiuch  freedom  in  researches  of  this  kind.  If 
you  cut  the  old  canal,  the  water  is  apt  to  run  farther  thai!  you  have  a  mind 
to ;  if  yon  indulge  the  humour  of  novelty,  you  cannot  put  .i  stop  to  people's 
demands,  nor  govern  their  indiscretions  at  pleasure.  For  my  part  my  sole 
concern  is  to  manage  the  third  and  last  act  of  my  life  with  decency,  and 
to  make  a  handsome  exit  off  the  stage.  Provided  this  point  is  secured  I 
am  not  solicitous  about  the  rest.  I  am  already  by  nature  condemned  to 
death  :  no  man  can  give  me  a  pardon  from  this  sentence,  nor  so  niuch  as 
procure  me  a  reprieve.  To  speak  my  mind,  and  to  act  as  my  conscience 
directs,  arc  two  branches  of  liberty  which  I  can  never  part  with.  Sincerity 
in  speech  and  integrity  in  action  are  enduring  qualities;  they  will  slick  by 
a  man  when  everything  else  takes  its  leave,  and  I  must  not  resign  them 
upon  any  consideration.  The  best  of  it  is,  if  I  do  not  throw  these  away 
myself,  no  man  can  force  them  from  me  ;  but  if  1  give  them  up,  then  am 
1  ruined  by  myself,  and  deserve  to  lose  all  my  preferments.''  Besid  s 
the  obvious  danger  of  going  too  far  and  making  the  people  mischievously 
familiar  with  change,  Gardiner  charged  his  opponents  with  an  unnecessary 
ind  presumptuous  assumption  of  metaphysical  exactitude  upon  the  doc- 
trines of  grace  and  justification  by  faith,  points  not  vitally  necessary  to 
any  man,  and  beyond  the  real  coiuprehension  of  the  multitude.  The 
ability  and  the  firmness  with  which  he  'iressed  these  and  other  grounds  of 
opposition  so  highly  enraged  the  protestor,  that  Gardiner  was  committed 
to  the  Fleet,  and  there  treated  with  a  severity  which,  his  age  and  his 
talents  being  considered,  reflected  no  little  discredit  upon  the  protest-:mt 
party.  Tonstal,  bishop  of  Durhaiu,  who  sided  with  Gardiner,  was  expelled 
the  council,  but  allowed  to  live  without  farther  molestation. 

The  active  measures  of  Somerset  for  promoting  the  reformation  in 
England  gave  force  and  liveliness  to  the  antagonist  parties  in  Scotland 
also.  The  cardinal  Beaton,  or  Bethune,  was  resolute  to  put  down  the 
preaching,  even,  of  the  reformers ;  while  these  latter,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  daily  becoming  more  and  more  inflamed  with  a  zeal  to  \v!)ich  mar- 
tyrdom itself  had  no  terrors.  Among  the  most  zealous  and  active  of  the 
reformed  preachers  was  a  well-born  gentleman  named  VVishart,  a  man  ol 
great  learning,  high  moral  character,  and  a  rich  store  of  that  passioiiale 
and  forcible,  though  rude,  eloquence  which  is  so  powerful  over  tho  minds 
jf  enthusiastic  but  uneducated  men.  The  principal  scene  of  his  preach- 
ing was  Dundee,  where  his  eloquence  had  so  visible  a!id  stirring  an  effect 
upon  the  multitude,  that  the  magistrates,  as  a  simple  matter  of  civil  po- 
lice, felt  bound  to  forbid  him  to  preach  within  their  jurisdiction.  Unable 
to  avoid  retiring,  Wishart,  however,  in  donig  so,  solemnly  invoked  and 
prophesied  a  heavy  and  speedy  calamity  upon  the  town  in  which  his 
preaching  had  thus  been  stopped.  Singularly  enough,  he  had  not  long 
been  banished  from  Dundee  when  the  plague  burst  out  with  great  violence. 
Post  hoc,  ergo  propter  hoc  is  ever  the  popular  maxim  :  men  loudly  declined 
Jliut  the  plague  was  evidently  the  consecience  of  Wishart's  banishmeni, 


474 


TUB  TREABUaV  OF  HISTOHY. 


1 1 


•lid  thHt  the  hand  of  the  destroyinK  angel  would  never  be  ttayed  until  the 
preacher  shuuld  be  recalled.  Wishart  was  recHlli^d  aecordiiigly ;  unj 
taking  advantage  of  the  popular  feelings  of  diainay,  he  ao  boldiv  and  puH- 
iionately  advocated  innovations,  that  Cardinal  Beaton  caused  him  to  be 
arreated  and  condemned  to  the  stake  as  a  heretic. 

Arran,  the  governor,  showing  some  fear  and  unwillingneaa  to  proceed 
to  the  extremity  of  burning,  the  cardinal  carried  the  aentence  into  execu- 
tion on  his  own  anthorily,  and  even  stationed  himself  at  a  window  from 
which  he  could  behold  the  dismal  spectacle.  This  indecent  and  cruel 
triumph  was  noted  by  the  sufferer,  who  solemnly  warned  Beaton  that  ere 
many  days  he  should  be  laid  upon  that  very  spot  where  then  he  triumphed. 
Agitated  as  the  multitude  were  by  the  exhortationa  of  their  numerous 

ftreachers  of  the  reformed  doctrine,  such  a  prophecy  was  not  likely  U) 
all  unheeded  from  auch  a  man  under  auch  circumstancea.  Hii  followers 
in  great  numbers  associated  to  revenge  his  death.  Sixteen  of  the  must 
courageous  of  ihum  went  well  armed  to  the  cardinal's  palace  at  an  enrly 
hour  in  the  morning,  and  having  thrust  all  his  servants  and  tradesmen  out, 
proceeded  to  the  cardinal's  apartment.  For  a  abort  time  the  fastenings 
defied  their  power,  but  a  cry  arising  to  bring  fire  to  their  aid,  the  unfortu. 
nate  old  man  opened  the  door  to  them,  entreating  to  spare  hia  life  and  re- 
minding them  of  his  priesthood.  The  foremost  of  his  assailants,  James 
Melville,  called  to  the  others  to  execute  with  becoming  gravity  and  de- 
liberation u  work  which  was  only  to  be  looked  upon  as  the  judgment  of 
God. 

"  Repent  thee,"  said  this  sanguinary  but  conscientious  enthusiast,  "  re- 
pent thee,  thou  wicked  cardinal,  of  all  thy  sins  and  iniquities,,  especially  of 
the  murder  of  Wishart,  that  instrument  of  God  for  the  conversion  of  tlicio 
lands.  It  is  his  death  which  now  cries  vengeance  upon  thee :  we  are 
sent  by  God  to  inflict  the  deserved  punishment.  For  here,  before  tiie  Al- 
mighty, I  protest  that  it  is  neither  hatred  of  thy  person,  nor  love  of  thy 
riches,  nor  fear  of  thy  power,  which  moves  me  to  seek  thy  death,  but  only 
because  thou  hast  been  and  still  remainest  an  obstinate  enemy  to  Christ 
Jesus  and  his  holy  gospel." 

With  these  words  Melville  stabbed  the  cardinal,  who  foil  dead  at  his 
feet.  This  murder  took  place  the  year  before  the  death  of  Henry  VIII.,  to 
whom  the  assassins,  who  fortified  themselves  and  friends,  to  the  number 
of  a  hundred  and  forty,  in  the  caatle,  dispatchcci  a  messenger  for  aid. 
Henry,  always  jealous  of  Scotland  and  glad  to  cripple  its  turbulent  nobili- 
ty, promised  his  support,  and  Somerset  now,  in  obedience  to  the  dying  in- 
junction of  the  king,  prepared  to  march  an  army  into  Scotland,  for  the 
purpose  of  compelling  a  union  of  the  two  countries,  by  marrying  the  minor 
queen  of  Scotland  to  the  minor  king  of  England.  With  a  fleet  of  sixty 
sail  and  a  force  of  eighteen  thousand  men,  he  set  out  with  the  avowed 
purpose  of  not  listening  to  any  negotiation,  unless  based  upon  the  condi- 
tion of  the  marriage  of  the  young  queen  of  Scotland  to  Edward  of  Eng- 
land ;  a  measure  which  he  urged  and  justified  at  great  length  in  a  pam- 
phlet published  by  him  before  opening  the  campaign. 

Except  as  a  means  of  justifying  his  own  conduct  in  commencing  the 
war,  it  would  seem  that  so  well  informed  a  statesman  as  Somerset  could 
surely  have  expected  little  effect  from  this  manifesto.  The  queen  dowa- 
ger of  Scotland  was  wholly  influenced  by  France,  which  could  not  but  be 
to  the  utmost  degree  opposed  to  the  union  of  Scotland  and  England ;  and 
she  was  also  far  too  much  attached  to  the  catholic  religion  to  look  with 
any  complacent  feeling  upon  a  transfer  of  Scotland  into  the  hands  of  the 
luiown  and  persevering  enemy  of  that  religion.  From  Berwick  to  Edin- 
burgh Somerset  experienced  but  little  resistance.  Arran,  however,  had 
taken  up  his  position  on  the  banks  of  the  Eske  at  about  four  miles  from 
Edinburgh,  with  an  army  double  iu  number  to  that  of  the  English.    lu  a 


THE  TUBA8URY  07  HISTORY. 


47« 


cavitlry  affair  of  outposts  the  Scoia  were  worsted,  and  Lord  Hume 
sewn^ly  wounded,  but  Somerset  Hud  the  eurl  of  Warwick  huvuiif  rerun, 
lioitred  the  Scottish  camp,  found  that  it  was  too  wi'll  posted  to  be  assailed 
with  )»iy  reasonable  chance  of  success.  Somerset  now  tried  hei(«)tiiiiion, 
ofTeriii?  to  evacuate  tlie  country  and  even  to  make  compensation  for  such 
inischiefus  had  already  been  done,  on  condition  that  the  Scots  should  en* 
gH^e  to  keep  their  young  queen  at  home  and  uncontracted  in  marriage 
until  slio  should  reach  an  age  to  choose  for  herself.  This  offer,  so  much 
ill  coiiirast  witli  the  determination  with  which  the  protector  had  set  out, 
cauxed  the  Scots  to  suppose  that,  intimidated  by  their  numbers  or  moved 
by  »oiiie  secret  and  distressing  information,  he  was  anxious  to  get  uway 
upon  any  terms,  and  the  very  moderation  of  ilic  terms  oflered  by  him  was 
the  cause  of  their  being  rejected.  Whoever  will  carefully  and  in  detail 
study  the  great  campaigns  and  battles,  whether  of  aiu-ieiit  or  of  modern 
times,  will  find  that  at  once  the  rarest  and  the  most  precious  gift  of  a  >^"^' 
eral-iii-chief  is  to  know  how  to  refrain  from  action.  The  Fabian  policy  4.. 
suitable  onlv  to  the  very  loftiest  and  most  admirable  military  genius  ;  not 
because  of  the  physical  difficulty  of  remaining  tranquil,  but  simply  because 
to  do  so  in  spite  alike  of  the  entreaties  of  friends  and  the  taunts  of  foes, 
requires  that  self-conquest  which  is  to  bo  achieved  only  by  a  Fabius  or  a 
Wellington.  On  the  present  occasion  the  Scot's  leaders  had  to  contend 
not  only  against  their  own  mistake  as  to  Somerset's  circumstances  and 
motives,  but  also  against  the  frantic  eagerness  of  their  men,  who  were 
wound  up  to  the  most  intense  rage  by  the  preaching  of  certain  priests  in 
their  camp,  who  assured  them  that  the  detestable  Tieresy  of  the  English 
made  victory  to  their  arms  altogether  out  of  the  question. 

Finding  his  moderate  and  peaceable  proposal  rejected,  Somerset  saw 
that  it  was  necessary  to  draw  the  enemy  from  their  sheltered  and  strong 
position,  to  a  more  open  one  in  which  he  could  advantageously  avail  him- 
self of  his  superiority  in  cavalry.  He  accordingly  moved  towards  the 
sea;  and  as  his  ships  at  the  same  moment  stood  in  shore,  as  if  to  re* 
ceive  him,  the  Scots  fell  into  the  snare  and  moved  from  their  strong  posi- 
tion  to  intercept  him.  They  entered  the  plain  in  three  bodies,  the  van- 
guard commanded  by  Angus,  the  main  body  commanded  by  Arran,  and 
some  light  horse  and  Irish  archers  on  the  left  flank  under  Argyle. 

As  the  Scots  advanced  into  the  plain,  they  were  severely  galled  by  the 
artillery  of  the  English  ships,  and  among  the  killed  was  the  eldest  son  of 
Lord  Graham.  The  Irish  auxiliaries  were  thrown  into  the  utmost  disor- 
der, and  the  whole  main  body  began  to  fall  back  upon  the  rear-guard, 
which  was  under  the  command  of  Huntley.  Lord  Grey,  who  had  the 
command  of  the  English  cavalry,  had  orders  not  to  attack  the  Scottish 
vail  till  it  should  be  closely  engaged  with  the  English  van,  when  he  was 
totake  it  in  flank.  Tempted  by  the  disorder  of  the  enemy,  he  neglected 
this  order,  and  led  the  English  cavalry  on  at  full  gallop.  A  heavy  slough 
and  broad  ditch  threw  them  into  confusion,  and  they  were  easily  repulsed 
by  the  long  spears  of  the  Scotch  ;  Lord  Grey  himself  was  severely  wound- 
ed, the  protector's  son,  Lord  Edward  Seymour,  had  his  horse  killed 
under  him,  and  the  cavalry  was  only  rallied  by  the  utmost  exertion  and 
presence  of  mind  on  the  part  of  Sir  Ralph  Sadler,  Sir  Ralph  Vane,  and 
the  protector  in  person.  The  English  an.'hers  and  the  English  ships 
galled  the  van  of  the  Scots  so  severely  that  it  at  length  gave  way,  and 
the  English  van  being,  at  that  critical  moment,  led  on  in  good  order,  the 
Scots  and  their  Irish  auxiliaries  took  to  flight.  How  short  and  unequal 
the  flight  was,  and  how  persevering  and  murderous  the  pursuit,  may  be 
judged  from  the  fact,  that  the  English  loss  was  short  of  two  hundred,  and 
that  of  the  Scots  above  ten  thousand!  Full  flfteen  hundred  were  also 
made  prisoners  at  this  disastrous  battle  of  Pinkey. 
Somerset  now  took  several  castles,  received  the  submission  of  the  coun> 


I7« 


THK  TRKASURY  Of  HWTORY. 


tini  on  thfl  bordrr,  dntroyrd  0\n  nhip|)inR  on  the  coait,  nnd  wnn  in  r  lit. 
nuti(»nt(»  hav<!  impoRcd  till)  rnoitt  oiieroiM  ternt^  o»  th«  Ncuta,  could  he 
hHVe  Tollowud  uti  his  advHiit'ii{(>s  ;  hut  inronnutiiMi  roaihcd  him  of  in. 
trigiH'H  tfoiiig  on  in  KnKluiwJ,  which  olihijod  him  lorolurn,  afier  having  np- 
pointed  Berwick  for  thn  phico  of  c«Hift;rtMicn  of  the  uoinmisBioncrs,  whom 
the  ScotH,  in  order  to  gum  time  und  procure  aid  from  France,  aflfcctud  tu 
wish  to  Nciid  to  treat  fur  peace. 

On  Somerset's  return  to  Kngland  he  asHumod  more  state  tlian  ever, 
being  elated  with  liis  success  in  Scothind.  Mc  caiiseii  his  iii  ph^^w  to  dig. 
pensi)  with  the  statuto  of  precedency  passed  in  the  lat'i  reign,  and  to  grant 
to  him,  the  protector,  a  paicnt  alU>wing  him  to  ttit  on  ihu  throne,  upon  a 
■tool  or  bench  on  the  right  hand  of  the  king,  and  to  enjoy  all  honours  and 
priviV'ges  usuully  enjoyed  by  any  uncle  of  a  king  of  Kngland. 

While  thus  intent  upon  his  own  aggrandizement,  Somerset  waft,  never. 
tholesN,  attentive  also  to  thu  ameliorating  of  the  law.  The  statute  of  the 
six  articles  was  repealed,  as  were  all  laws  against  Lullardy  and  hercfiy— 
though  the  latter  was  still  an  undeHiied  crime  ut  connnon  law — all  laws 
extending  the  crime  of  treason  beyond  the  twenty-fifth  of  Kdwanl  MI 
and  all  thu  laws  of  Henry  VIII.  extending  the  crime  of  felony;  atulm 
accusation  founded  upon  words  spoki.-n  was  to  be  made  after  the  e  pira. 
tion  of  H  month  from  the  alledged  speaking. 

A-  D.  1548 — The  extensive  repeals  of  which  we  have  made  ii.ontiou  ar.. 
well  described  by  Hume  as  having  been  the  cause  of  "fiinc  ii  i<,  p  of  both 
civil  and  religious  liberty"  to  the  people.  For  them  great  y  i,^  .vas  due 
to  Somerset,  who,  however,  was  now  guilty  of  a  sin^rular  iut onBiyleiicy; 
one  which  shows  how  diflficult  it  is  for  unqualified  icspect  to  the  rij^litti 
of  the  multitude  to  co.exi8t  with  such  extensive  power  as  th;tt  of  tlie  pro. 
tector.  What  Hume,  with  terse  and  Bi<;nificant  emphasis,  calls  "  that  law, 
the  destruction  of  all  lawH,  by  which  the  king's  proclamation  was  made  of 
equal  force  with  a  statute,"  was  repealed;  and  yet  the  protector  continued 
to  use  and  uphold  the  proclamation  whensoever  the  occasion  seemed  to 
demand  it;  as,  for  instance,  forbidding  the  harmless  and  time-hallowed 
■uperstitions  or  absurdities  of  carrying  about  candles  on  Candlemas  day, 
ashes  on  Ash  Wednesday,  and  palm  branches  on  Palm  Sunday. 

Aided  by  the  French,  the  Scots  made  many  attempts  to  recover  the 
towns  and  ca?t!''s  which  had  been  taken  from  them  by  Somerset,  and  with 
very  general  success.  The  Knglish  were  reduced  to  so  much  distress, 
and  so  closidy  kept  within  Haddington  by  the  number  and  vigilance  of 
their  enemies,  that  Somerset  sent  over  a  reinforcement  of  eighteen  thou- 
sand  English  troops  and  three  thousand  German  auxiliaries.  This  large 
force  was  commanded  by  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  who  relieved  Hadding- 
ton, indeed,  but  could  not  get  up  with  the  enemy's  troops  until  they  were 
so  advantageously  posted  near  Edingburgh,  that  he  thought  it  imprudent 
to  attack  them,  and  marched  back  into  England. 

We  must  now  refer  to  those  intrigues  ofthe  English  court  to  which  the 
Scots  owed  not  a  little  of  their  comparative  security.  Between  the  pro- 
tector and  his  brother,  the  lord  Seymour,  a  man  of  great  talent  and  still 
greater  arrogance  and  ambition,  inere  was  a  feeling  of  rivalry,  which 
was  greatly  increased  and  imbitlered  hy  the  feminine  rivalry  and  spite 
of  their  wives.  The  queen  dowager  J^^  \  vti'.ow  of  Henry  VIII.,  marritd 
Lord  Seymour  ;U  a  scarcely  decent  ii<ici\  !  -fter  her  r"v:il  hushuh;-! 
death;  the  queen  dowager,  though  .iIii-mju  i'  ■  youngei  .\>iher  ofliie 
duke,  took  precedence  of  the  duches-,  c,^  i^tumeibet,  and  the  latter  used  all 
her  great  power  and  influence  over  her  husband  to  irritate  him  against  hi? 
brother.  When  Somerset  led  the  English  army  into  Scotland,  Lord  Sti} 
mour  took  the  opportunity  to  endeavour  to  strengthen  his  own  cabal,  ^v 
distributing  his  liberalities  among  the  king's  councillors  and  servarna, 
and  by  improper  indulgence  to  the  young  king  himself.    Secretary  PaKui, 


THS  TRBASURY  OF  UISTORT. 


in 


who  \ff\\  know  the  bitter  and  renlleM  rivalry  oT  the  two  brntht>ri,  wariird 
iMird  Si'yinour  to  bcw^iro,  thnt,  by  ciicuuriiging  ciibalM,  li«  did  not  bring 
(titwn  rum  upon  thit  lofty  iitiite  to  which  both  hiiiikt'ir  and  the  proteetoi 
had  risen,  and  \vlu>  i  had  madu  thuni  not  a  fctv  powerful  forM,  who  would 
hut  littiv  hesitalfl  to  ide  with  either  for  a  lime  for  the  sake  of  crnitliMig 
botit  in  the  end.  Lord  Seymour  treated  the  rcmomitrani-i'H  of  Piiget  viiih 
ne;{lecti  mid  llie  fee  retary  perccivina  the  evil  and  danger  daily  lo  grow 
mure  iinniinent, sent  u  prolectur  »iu  ii  iMforinalion  »•*  eatiHed  him  to  giv« 
up  all  probable  advantage,  ami  hasten  to  protect  liig  aulhorily  ami  iiiteN 
etts  at  home.  'I'l.  subseqijei^L  'cpurture  of  theymmg  ipieen  (/f  ScoiImhI 
for  Kraiice,  where  sue  arrived  m  sifety  Hlid  was  betrothed  to  the  ilau|>hin, 
made  SomerHel's  Seotlish  projects  comparatively  hopeless  and  "f  litt|« 
consequence,  and  ho  subseci'iently  ({uve  his  uiidividi'^  atlcntiou  to  the 
maintcnaiicti  of  his  authority  in  Kn}{land. 

Not  contented  with  the  degree  of  weullh  and  authority  he  possessed,  aa 
admiral  of  Knghind  and  husbund  of  the  queen  dowager,  Lonl  S(  ymonr, 
whose  artful  complaisance  Hecms  to  have  imposed  npi  ;i  his  nephew, 
caused  the  young  monarch  to  write  a  letter  to  parliamem  to  rrMjiiest  that 
Lord  Seymour  might  be  made  governor  of  the  king's  pi  immi,  which  office 
his  lordship  argued  ought  to  be  kept  dirtlincl  from  thai  of  protector  of  the 
realm,  lieforc  he  cuuld  bring  the  alTair  before  parliament,  and  while  he 
was  busily  engaged  in  endeavouring  to  atrengthen  iiis  party,  Lord  Sey- 
mour was  warned  by  his  brother  to  desist.  The  council,  too,  threatened 
that  it  would  use  the  letter  he  had  obtained  from  the  affection  or  weak- 
ness of  the  young  king,  not  as  a  Justification  of  his  factious  opposition  to 
the  protector's  legal  authority,  but  as  aproof  of  a  criin  nal  ta^nipering  with 
a  minor  and  a  mere  child,  witit  intent  to  disturb  the  U  „'al  and  seated  gov- 
ernment of  the  realm.  It  was  further  pointed  out  to  In  •,  tiiat  tlie  council 
now  knew  quite  enough  to  justify  it  in  sending  him  >  the  Tower:  and 
the  admiral,  however  unwillingly,  abandoned  his  deaijr  s,  at  least  for  the 
time. 

Somerset  easily  forgave  his  brother,  but  the  ambition  .'.iid  aching  envy 
of  that  turbulent  and  restless  mail  was  speedily  called  ii.o  evil  activity 
again,  by  a  uircumslance  which  to  an  ordinary  man  wou  1  have  seemed 
a  sulTicicnt  reason  for  lowering  its  tone.  Mis  wife,  the  qiieen  dowager, 
died  in  giving  birth  to  a  child,  and  Lord  Seymour  then  paid  liis  addresses 
to  the  lady  Klizabeth,  as  yet  only  sixteen  years  of  age.  Vs  Mary  was 
the  eldest  daughter,  and  as  Henry  had  very  distinctly  excluded  both  Mnry 
and  Elizabeth  from  the  throne  in  the  event  of  their  marrying  witliont  the 
consent  of  his  executors,  which  consent  Lord  Seymour  coild  have  no 
chance  of  getting,  it  was  clear  that  Seymour  could  only  ho  e  to  derive 
benefit  from  sntdi  an  alliance  by  resorting  to  absolute  usurpai  on  and  vio- 
lence. Thai  such  was  his  intention  is  further  rendered  probable  by  the 
fact,  that  besides  redoubling  his  efforts  to  obtain  influence  over  all  who 
had  access  to  the  king  or  power  in  tlio  stale,  he  had  so  distribiirod  his  fa- 
vours even  among  persons  of  conipaiulively  low  rank,  that  he  'alculated 
on  being  able,  if  it  were  necessary,  to  muster  an  army  of  ten  ihousand 
men.  For  tliis  number,  it  seems,  he  had  actually  provided  arms  ;  he  had 
farther  strengthened  himself  by  protecting  pirates,  whom,  as  a^  niral  of 
Kiiy;land,  it  was  his  especial  duly  to  suppress;  and  he  had  corrupted  Sir 
John  Spurington,  the  tnaster  of  the  mint  at  I3ristol,  who  was  ti  supply^ 
lum  with  money. 

Well  informed  as  lo  his  brother's  criminal  projects,  the  protector,  both 
by  intreaties  and  by  favours  conferred,  endeavoured  to  induce  him  to 
abandon  his  mad  ambition.  But  the  natural  wrong-headedness  of  Lord 
Seymour,  and  the  ill  advice  of  Dudley,  earl  of  Warwick,  a  man  of  great 
talent  and  courage,  but  of  justsucli  principles  as  might  be  expected  from 
the  sou  of  that  Dudley,  the  extortioner,  who  was  colleague  of  Eaipson 


ira 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


in  the  rciign  of  Henry  VII.,  rendered  the  humane  efforts  of  the  protector 
vain.  Haling  both  the  brothers,  Warwick  dreaded  the  Lord  Seymour  the 
more  for  his  aspiring  temper  and  superior  talents;  and  seeing  him  only 
too  well  inclined  to  seditious  practices,  the  treacherous  Warwick  urged 
him  on  in  his  guilty  and  foolish  career,  and  at  the  same  time  seen  .ly  ad- 
vised the  protector  to  take  stern  means  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  practices 
of  a  brother  upon  whom  kindness  and  good  counsel  were  completely 
thrown  away.  By  Warwick's  advice  the  protector  first  deprived  his 
brother  of  the  office  of  admiral,  and  then  committed  him,  with  some  of  his 
alledged  accomplices,  to  the  Tower.  Three  privy  councillors,  who  were 
Bent  to  examine  the  prisoners,  reported  that  there  was  important  evidence 
against  them ;  and  even  now  the  protector  offered  liberty  and  pardon  to 
his  brother,  on  condititm  of  his  retiring  to  his  country  nouses,  and  con- 
fining himself  strictly  to  private  life.  Undaunted  by  all  the  appearances 
against  him,  Lord  Seymour  replied  only  by  threats  and  sarcasms ;  and, 
urged  by  his  personal  and  political  friends,  real  and  pretended,  the  pro- 
tector consented  not  only  that  his  brother  should  be  proceeded  against,  but 
also  that  he  should  be  refused  a  free  and  open  trial  which  he  indignantly 
demanded,  and  be  proceeded  against  before  that  readyinstrument  of  sove- 
reign vengeance,  the  parliament. 

A.  D.  1549. — On  the  meeting  of  parliament  a  bill  of  attainder  was  origj. 
nated  in  the  upper  house.  By  way  of  evidence,  several  peers  rose  and 
stated  what  they  knew  or  professed  to  know  of  the  criminal  designs  and 
practices  of  the  admiral ;  and  upon  this  evidence  given,  be  it  observed,  by 
judges  in  the  case,  that  house  of  peers  in  which  the  deluded  man  had  sup. 
posed  himself  to  have  so  many  fast  friends,  passed  the  bill  with  scarcely 
a  dissenting  voice,  and,  as  Hume  observes  "  without  any  one  having  either 
the  courage  or  equity  to  move  that  he  might  be  heard  in  his  defence ;  that 
the  testimony  against  him  should  be  delivered  in  a  legal  manner,  and  that  he 
should  be  confronted  with  the  witnesses."  Contrary  to  what  might  have 
been  anticipated,  a  better  spirit  was  exhibited  in  the  lower  house,  vvlicre 
it  was  moved  that  the  proceeding  by  bill  of  attainder  was  bad,  and  that 
every  man  should  be  present  and  formally  tried  previous  to  condemnation. 
\  message,  nominally  from  thef  king,  but  really  from  the  council,  how- 
ever, terminated  this  show  of  spirit  and  equity,  and  the  bill  was  passed  hy 
a  majority  of  four  hundred  to  some  nine  or  ten.  Shortly  afterwards  the 
admiral  was  beheaded  on  Tower-hill,  the  warrant  of  his  execution  being 
signed  by  his  brother  Somerset !  or  rather  tlie  condemnation.  After  the 
trial  of  Lord  Seymour  the  most  important  business  of  this  session  was 
ecclesiastical;  one  act  allowing  priests  to  marry,  but  saying  in  the  pre- 
amble that  "  it  were  better  for  priests  and  the  ministers  of  the  church  to 
live  chastely  and  without  marriage,  and  it  were  much  to  be  wished  that 
they  would  of  themselves  abstain ;"  another  prohibiting  the  use  of  flesh 
meat  in  Lent ;  and  a  third  permitting  and  providing  fora  union  of  cures  in 
the  city  of  York.  Many  of  these  cures,  it  was  stated  in  the  preamble,  were 
too  much  impoverished  singly  to  support  an  incumbent;  an  impoverish- 
ment which  no  doubt  arose  from  the  transfer  of  the  ecclesiastical  reven- 
ues into  the  hands  of  laymen  and  absentees.  There  was  now  a  very  gen- 
eral outward  conformity,  at  least,  with  the  doctrine  and  liturgy  of  the  re- 
formation. But  both  Bonner  and  Gardiner  were  imprisoned  for  maintain- 
ing the  catholic  doctrine  of  the  real  presence,  the  princess  Mary  was 
threatened  by  the  council  for  persisting  to  hear  mass,  and  obtained  un 
indulgence  through  the  influence  of  the  emperor.  A  still  farther  and 
worse  proof  was  given  that  the  duty  of  toleration  was  as  yet  but  very  im- 
perfectly understood  by  the  reformers,  by  the  prosecution  of  a  woman 
named  Joan  Bocher,  or  Joan  of  Kent,  for  heresy.  The  council  condem- 
ned the  poor  creature  to  the  flames.  For  some  time  the  young  king  would 
not  sign  the  warrant  for  her  execution.    Cranmer — alas  !  that  Cranme 


THE  TREA8UEY  OP  HISTORY. 


479 


should  have  icas  of  Christian  charity  than  his  infant  king ! — argued  him 
into  compliance :  but  a  compliance  accompanied  by  tears  and  by  the  re- 
:tiark  that  upon  Cranmer's  head  would  the  deed  lie  for  good  or  evil.  The 
execution  of  this  woman  was  followed  by  that  of  a  Dutch  arian,  named 
Von  Paris,  who  suffered  his  horrible  death  with  apparent  delight — so  ill 
sdapted  is  persecution  to  make  converts ! 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

THE    REIGN    OF    EDWARD   VI.    (continued) 

To  deny  that  a  great  reformation  was  much  needed  in  the  church  at  tne 
time  when  it  was  commenced  by  Henry  VIII.  would  be  utterly  and  ob- 
stinately to  close  one's  eyes  to  the  most  unquestionable  evidence.  Nev- 
ertheless it  is  no  less  certain  that  the  wealth  which  was  justly  taken  from 
the  monks  was  quite  as  unjustly  bestowed  upon  laymen.  It  was  not  be- 
cause corrupt  men  had  insinuated  or  forced  themselves  into  the  church, 
that  therefore  the  church  should  be  plundered;  it  was  not  because  the 
monks  had  diverted  a  part  of  the  large  revenues  of  the  chnrch  from  the 
proper  purpose,  that  therefore  the  king  should  wrongfully  bestow  a  still 
larger  part.  The  laymen  upon  whom  Henry  bestowed  the  spoils  of  the 
greater  and  lesser  houses  had  in  few  cases,  if  any,  a  single  claim  upon 
those  spoils  save  favouritism,  not  always  too  honourable  to  themselves 
or  to  the  king ;  yet  to  them  was  given,  without  the  charge  of  the  poor,  that 
property  upon  which  the  poor  had  been  bountifully  fed.  The  baron  or  ihe 
knight,  the  mere  courtier  or  the  still  worse  character  upon  whom  this 
property  was  bestowed  might  live  a  hundred  or  even  a  thousand  miles 
from  the  land  producing  his  revenue — from  that  land  npon  which  its  for- 
mer possessors,  its  resident  landlords  the  monks,  employed  the  toiling 
man,  and  fed  the  infirm,  the  helpless,  and  the  suffering.  Nor  was  it 
merely  by  the  hind  who  laboured,  or  by  the  needy  man  who  was  fed  in 
charity,  that  the  monks  were  now  missed ;  the  monks  were  not  only  res- 
ident landlords,  they  were  also  liberal  and  indulgent  landlords.  They  for 
a  great  portion  of  their  low  rents  took  produce ;  the  lay  landlords  de- 
manded higher  rents  and  would  be  paid  in  money ;  the  monks  lived  among 
their  tenants  and  were  their  best  customers ;  the  lay  landlord  drew  his 
money  rents  from  Lincoln  or  Devon,  to  spend  them  in  the  court  revels  ai 
London  or  in  the  wars  of  France  or  Scotland.  Many  other  differences 
might  be  pointed  out  which  were  very  injurious  to  the  middle  and  lower 
class  of  men;  but  enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  however  necessary 
the  change,  it  was  not  made  with  due  precautions  against  the  impoverisb 
ment  and  suffering  of  great  bodies  of  men,  and  great  consequent  danger 
of  stale  disturbances.  Even  the  iron  hand  of  Henry  VIII.  would  not  have 
been  able  to  prevent  both  suffering  and  nmnnuring ;  and  when  under  the 
milder  rule  of  the  protector  Somerset  the  people  were  still  farther  distress- 
ed by  the  rage  for  grazing,  wliich  caused  the  peasantry  to  be  driven  in 
herds  not  only  from  the  estates  upon  which  they  had  laboured,  but  eves 
from  their  cottages  and  from  the  conunons  upon  which  they  had  fed  their 
cows  or  sheep,  the  cry  of  distress  became  loud,  general,  and  appalling. 
The  protector  issued  a  commission  to  inquire  into  the  stale  of  the  rural 
people,  and'  to  find  out  and  remedy  all  evils  connected  with  enclosures. 
But  the  poor  in  various  parts  of  the  country  rose  in  arms  before  the  com- 
mission had  time  even  to  make  inquiries  ;  Wiltshire,  Oxford,  Gloucester, 
Hiint.s  Sussex,  and  Kent  rose  simultaneously,  but  were  speedily  put  down, 
chiefly  by  Sir  William  Herbert  and  Lord  Gray  of  Wilton.  But  the  most 
formidab'e  rioters  made  their  appearance  in  Norfolk  and  Devonshire. 

In  Nofl'olk  above  twenty  tb'msand  assembled,  and  from  their  original 


itQ 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


demand  for  doing  away  with  the  enclosures,  they  passed  to  demanding 
the  restoration  of  the  old  relijrion,  the  placing  of  new  councillors  about 
the  king,  and  the  utter  abolition  of  all  gentry !  A  bold  anrl  ruffianly  feU 
low,  one  Ket,  a  tanner,  took  the  command  of  this  assemblage,  and  exer- 
cised his  authority  over  such  of  the  gentry  as  were  unlucky  enough  to  be 
within  his  reach,  in  tlie  arbitrary  and  insolent  style  that  might  be  antici- 
pated, holding  his  court  beneath  a  great  oak  on  Mousehold  Hill,  which 
overlooks  the  city  of  Norwicii.  Against  this  demagogue  and  his  de- 
luded followers  the  marquis  of  Northampton  was  at  first  sent,  but  he  was 
completely  repulsed,  and  Lord  Sheffield,  one  of  his  officers,  was  killed. 
The  earl  of  Warwick  was  then  sent  against  Kei  with  an  army  of  six 
thousand,  which  had  been  levied  to  go  to  Scotland.  Warwick,  with  his 
usual  courage  and  conduct,  beat  the  rebels  ;  killed  two  thousand  of  thein, 
hanged  up  Ket  at  the  castle  of  Norwich,  and  nine  of  the  other  ringlead- 
ers on  the  boughs  of  the  oak  tree  on  Mousehold  hill. 

In  Devonshire  as  in  Norfolk,  though  the  complaints  made  by  the  people 
originated  in  the  injustice  of  the  enclosures  and  in  very  real  and  widely. 
spread  misery,  demagogues,  among  whom  were  some  priests  of  Sampford 
Courteniiy,  artfully  caused  them  to  make  a  return  to  the  old  religion  a 
chief  article  of  their  demand ;  and  the  insurrection  here  was  the  more 
formidable,  because  many  of  the  gentry,  on  account  of  the  religious  de- 
mands, joined  the  rebels.  Among  the  gentlemen  who  did  so  was  Hum- 
phrey Arundel,  governor  of  St.  Michael's  Mount,  chiefly  by  whose 
means  it  was  that  the  rebels,  though  ten  thousand  in  number,  were  brought 
into  something  of  the  regular  order  of  disciplined  troops.  Lord  Russell, 
who  had  been  sent  against  them  with  but  a  weak  force,  finding  them  so 
numerous  and  determined,  and  in  such  good  order,  endeavored  to  get 
them  to  disperse  by  affecting  to  negotiate  with  them.  He  forwarded 
their  extravagant  demands  to  the  council,  who  returned  for  answer  that 
they  should  be  pardoned  on  their  immediate  submission.  This  answer  so 
much  enraged  the  rebels  that  they  endeavoured  to  storm  Exeter,  but 
were  repulsed  by  the  citizens.  They  then  sat  down  before  Exeter  and 
endeavored  to  mine  it.  By  this  lime  Lord  Russell  was  reinforced  by 
some  German  horse  under  Sir  William  Herbert  and  Lord  Gray,  and  some 
Italian  infantry  under  Ballista  Spinola,  and  he  now  marched  from  his 

?[Harters  at  Honiton  to  the  relief  of  Exeter.  The  rebels  suffered  dread- 
ully  both  in  the  battle  and  subsequent  to  the  retreat.  Humphrey  Arun- 
del  and  other  leading  men  were  seized,  carried  to  London,  and  there  ex- 
ecuted ;  many  of  the  rabble  were  executed  on  the  spot  by  martial  law, 
and  the  vicar  of  St.  Thomas  was  hanged  on  the  top  of  his  own  steeple 
in  the  garb  of  a  popish  priest. 

The  stern  and  successful  severity  with  which  the  more  formidable  re- 
bellions of  Norfolk  and  Devonshire  had  been  put  down,  caused  weaker 
parties  in  Yorkshire  and  elsewhere  to  take  the  alarm  and  disperse;  and 
the  protector  both  wisely  and  humanely  fostered  tliis  spirit  of  returning 
obedioiK^e  by  proclaiming  a  general  indemnity.  But  besides  the  terrible 
loss  of  life  which  these  insurrections  cost  on  the  spot,  they  caused  great 
losses  both  in  Scotland  and  in  France.  In  the  former  country  the  want 
of  the  force  of  six  thousand  men,  which  Warwick  led  to  put  down  the 
Norfolk  men,  enabled  the  French  and  Scotch  to  capture  the  fortress  of 
Droughty  and  put  the  garrison  to  the  sword,  and  so  to  waste  the  country 
for  miles  round  Haddington,  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  dismantle  und 
abandon  tliat  important  fortress  and  carry  the  stores  to  Berwick. 

The  king  of  Friiice  was  at  the  same  time  tempted  by  the  deplorable 
domestic  disturbances  in  England  to  make  an  cffbrt  to  recover  Boulogne, 
which  had  been  taken  during  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  He  took  several 
fortresses  in  the  neighbourhood,  but  while  preparing  to  attack  Boulogne 
itself,  a  pestilential  distemper  broke  out  in  his  camp.    The  autumnal  rains 


THE  TRBA8IJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


481 


ndtng 
about 
ly  fel- 
exer- 
1  to  be 
antic  i- 
which 
lis  de- 
lie  was 
killed. 
of  six 
rith  his 
f  them, 
nglead- 

5  people 

widely- 

ampford 

iligion  a 

lie  more 

;ious  de- 

ii8  Huni- 

'    whose 

;  brought 

1  Russell, 

:  them  so 

ed  to  get 

orwarded 

swer  that 

inswer  so 

xeter,  but 

xeter  and 

forced  by 

and  some 

from  his 

ed  drcad- 

roy  Arun- 
there  ex- 
rtial  law, 
n  steeple 

idable  re- 
pd  weaker 
perse;  and 
reluming 
Ihe  terrible 
luspd  great 
the  want 
down  the 
[fortress  of 
he  country 
In  anile  vnd 

[deplorable 
Boulogne, 
kok  several 
Boulogne 
Ininal  rains 


tailing  with  gfreaf  violence,  Henry  of  France  lost  all  instant  hope  of 
ing  Boulogne,  and  returned  to  Paris,  leiiviiig  Gaspar  de  Coli^iiy,  so 
known  as  the  admiral  Coligny,  to  command  tlie  troops  and  to  for 
siege  as  early  as  possible  in  the  following  spring.     Colii,niy  even  \v( 


tak- 
well 
form  the 
cnt  be- 
ond  these  orders  by  making  some  dashing  altcmpis  during  the  winter, 
jut  they  were  all  unsuccessful.     The  protector  having  in  vain  alti-nipted 
to  procure  the  alliance  of  the  emperor,  he  turned  his  tlioughls  to  niaki>i;j 
peace  wilh  both  France  and  Scotland.     The  young  queen  of  Scolhuid, 
for  whose  hand  he  had  chiefly  gone  to  war.  could  not  now  be  marri('(l  lo 
Edward  of  England,  however  much  even  the  Scots  might  desire  it;  and 
as  regards  the  French  quarrel,  Henry  VIII.  having  agreed   to  give  up 
Boulogne  in  1554,  it  was  little  worth  while  to  keep  up  an  expensive  war- 
fare for  retaining  the  place  for  so  few  years  as  had  to  elapse  to  that  date. 
But  Somerset,  though  a  man  of  unquestionable  ability,  seems  to  have 
been  singularly  ignorant  or  unobservant  as  lo  the  real  light  in  which  he 
was  regarded  by  the  council,  and  still  more  so  of  the  real  character  and 
views  of  Warwick.     He  gave  his  reasons,  as  wc  have  given  Ihem  above; 
and  sound  reasons  they  were,  and  as  humane  as  sound ;  but  he  did  not 
sufficiently  take  into  calculation  the  pleasure  which  his  enemies  derived 
from  the  embarrassment  caused  to  him,  and  the  discontent  likely  to  arise 
in  the  public  mind  on  account  of  the  state  of  our  aftairs,  at  once  inglo- 
rious and  expensive,  in  France  and  Scotland. 

Besides  having  the  personal  enmity  of  Warwick,  Southampton,  whom 
the  protector  had  restored  to  his  place  in  the  council,  and  other  council- 
lors, Somerset  was  detested  by  a  great  part  of  the  nobility  and  gentry, 
who  accused  him,  perhaps  not  altogether  unjustly,  of  purchasing  popular 
ity  at  the  expense  of  their  safety,  by  showing  such  an  excessive  and  un- 
fair preference  of  the  poor  as  encouraged  them  in  riot  and  robbery.    As 
an  iiislance  of  this,  it  was  objected  that  he  had  erected  a  court  of  re- 
quests in  his  own  house  for  the  professed  relief  of  the  poor,  and  even  in- 
terfered with  the  judges  on  their  behalf.     The  principles  of  conslitulional 
liberty  such  as  we  now  enjoy  were  at  that  time  so  little  understood,  that 
it  was  not  the  mere  interference  with  the  judges,  which  we  should  now 
veryjusiily  consider  so  indecent  and  detestable,  that  caused  any  disgust; 
but  Somerset  had  interfered  against  the  very  persons,  the  nobles  and  gen- 
try, upon  whom  alone  he  could  rely  for  support,  and  he  was  now  to  en- 
dure the  consequences  of  so  impolitic  a  course.     His  execution  of  his 
own  brother,  however  guilty  that  brother,  his  enormous  acquisitions  of 
church  property,  and  above  all,  the  magnificence  of  the  palace  he  was 
building  in  the  Strand,  for  which  a  parish  church  and  the  houses  of  three 
bishops  were  pulled  down,  and  the  materials  of  which  he  chiefly  got  by 
dismiiiilliiig  a  chapel,  with  cloister  and  charnel-house,  in  St.    Paul's 
churcliyard,  after  his  labourers  had  been  by  force  of  arms  driven  from  an 
attempt  to  tear  down  St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  for  that  purpose ! — 
these  things,  and  the  overweening  pride  which  was  generally  attributed 
to  him,  were  skilfully  taken  advantage  of  by  his  enemies,  and  he  was 
everywhere  described  as  the  main  cause  of  all  the  recent  public  calamities 
at  home  and  abroad.     Warwick,  with  Southampton,  Arundel,  and  five  of 
the  councillors,  headed  by  Lord  St.  John,  president  of  the  council,  formed 
themselves  into  a  sort  of  independent  council.     Taking  upon  themselves 
the  style  and  authority  of  the  whole  council,  they  wrote  letters  to  all  the 
chief  nobility  and  gentry,  asking  for  their  support  and  aid  in  remedying 
the  public  evils,  which  they  affected  to  charge  entirely  upon  Somerset's 
maladministration.    Having  determined  on  their  own  scheme  of  reme- 
dial measures,  they  sent  for  the  mayor  and  aldermen  of  London  and  the 
lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  and  informing  them  of  the  plans  which  they 
proposed  lo  adopt,  str.ctly  enjoined  thein  to  aid  and  obey  ihein,  in  despita 
■if  aught  lliat  Somerset  might  think  fit  to  order  to  the  contrary.     Soiner 
\'oi,.  1.— :M 


182 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORTf. 


ti 


aet  was  now  so  unpopular,  that  obedience  was  readily  promised  to  this 
command,  in  the  face  at  onoe  of  the  king's  patent  and  of  the  fact  that 
these  very  councillors,  who  now  complained  of  the  protector's  acts  as 
illegal,  had  aided  and  encouraged  him  in  whatever  had  been  illegally 
done— his  original  departure  from  the  will  of  the  late  king!  No  farther 
argument  can  be  requisite  to  show  that  personal  and  selfish  feeling,  and 
not  loyalty  to  the  young  king  or  tenderness  to  his  suffering  people,  ac- 
tuated these  factious  councillors.  But  faction  has  an  eagle  eye  where- 
with  to  gaze  uiibliukingly  upon  the  proudest  and  most  brilliant  light  of 
truth ;  and  the  self-appointed  junto  was  on  the  following  day  joined  by 
the  lord  chancellor  Rich,  by  the  marquis  of  Northampton,  the  earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  Sir  Thomas  Cheney,  Sir  John  Gage,  Sir  Ralph  Sadler,  and 
the  chief  justice  Montague.  And  when  the  protector,  seeing  tlie  immi- 
nent peril  in  which  he  was  placed,  sent  Secretary  Petre  to  treat  with  the 
councillors  at  Ely-house,  that  craven  personage,  instead  of  performing 
his  duty,  took  his  seat  and  sided  with  the  junto. 

Consulting  with  Cranmer  and  Paget,  who  were  the  only  men  of  mark 
and  power  that  still  abided  by  his  fortunes,  the  protector  removed  the 
young  king  to  Windsor  castle,  and  gathered  his  friends  and  retainers  in 
arms  around  him.  But  the  adhesion  to  the  Junto  of  the  lieutenai\t  of  the 
Tower,  and  the  unanimity  with  which  the  common  council  of  London 
joined  the  mayor  in  promising  support  to  the  new  measures,  caused  the 
speaker  of  the  house  of  commons  and  the  two  or  three  other  councillors 
who  had  hitherto  remained  neuter  to  join  the  ascendant  party  of  War- 
wick ;  and  Somerset  so  completely  lost  all  hope  and  confidence,  that  he 
now  began  to  apply  to  his  foes  for  pardon.  This  manifestation  of  his 
despair,  which  would  have  been  inexcusable  had  it  not,  unhappily,  been 
unavoidable,  was  decisive.  Warwick  and  his  friends  addressed  the  kinff, 
and  with  many  protestations  of  their  exceeding  loyalty  and  the  mischiev- 
ousness  of  the  protector's  measures,  solicited  that  they  might  be  admitted 
to  his  majesty's  presence  and  confidence,  and  that  Somerset  be  dismissed 
from  his  high  office.  The  fallen  statesman  was  accordingly,  with  several 
of  his  friends,  including  Cecil,  the  afterwards  renowned  and  admirable 
Lord  Burleigh,  sent  to  tne  Tower.  But  though  the  junto  thus  pronounced 
all  that  Gomerset  had  done  to  be  illegal,  they  appointed  as  coimcil  of  re- 
gency, not  the  persons  named  in  the  late  king's  will,  but,  for  the  most 
part,  the  same  men  who  had  been  appointed  by  Somerset,  and  whoso  acts 
under  his  appointment,  supposing  it  to  be  illegal,  ought  clearly  v-  have 
disqualified  them  now.     Such  is  faction ! 

When  the  government  had  thus  been,  virtually,  vested  in  the  ambitious 
and  unprincipled  Warwick  ;  when  he  had  snatched  the  office  of  earl  mar- 
shal. Lord  St.  John  that  of  treasurer,  the  marquis  of  Northampton  that  of 
great  chamberlain.  Lord  Wentworth  that  of  chamberlain  of  the  household, 
besides  the  manors  of  Stepney  and  Hackney  which  were  plundered  from 
the  bishopric  of  London,  and  Lord  Russell  the  earldom  of  Bedford,  the  hot 
patriotism  of  Warwick  was  satisfied.  The  humbled  Somerset  haviiii/  thus 
made  way  for  his  enemies,  and  having  stooped  to  the  degradation  of  mak- 
ing to  them  apologies  and  submissions  which  his  admirers  must  evet 
lament,  he  was  restored  to  liberty  and  forgiven  a  fine  of  je2000  a  year  in 
land  which  had  been  inflicted  upon  him.  As  though  even  this  humiliation 
were  not  enough,  Warwick  not  only  re-admitted  him  to  the  council,  biii 
^ave  his  son.  Lord  Dudley,  in  marriage  to  Somerset's  daughter,  the  lady 
Jane  Seymour. 

A.  D.  1550. — The  new  governors  of  England,  though  they  had  insidiously 
refused  to  aid  Somerset  in  his  wise  and  reasonable  proposals  for  making 
peace  with  France  and  Scotland  when  he  was  desirous  to  do  so,  now 
eagerly  exerted  themselves  for  the  same  end.  Having,  to  colour  ovei 
their  factions  opposition  to  Somerset,  made  proposals  for  the  warlike  m 


THE  TEEA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


4*7 


$(  the  emperor,  which  aid  they  well  knew  would  be  reriised,  they  agreed 
to  re«toie  Boulogne  for  four  thouBi'nd  crowns,  to  restore  Lauder  and 
I)oiiglass  to  Scotland,  and  to  demolish  the  fortresses  of  Roxburgh  and 
Eyinouth.  This  done,  they  contracted  the  king  to  Elizabeth,  a  daughier 
of  the  king  of  France,  the  most  violent  persecutor  of  the  protectants;  but 
though  all  the  articles  were  settled,  this  most  shameful  marriage  treaty 
came  to  nothing. 

Ill  the  history  of  public  affairs  there  in  scarcely  anything  that  is  more 
startling,  or  that  gives  one  a  lower  opinion  of  the  morality  of  those  public 
men  who  most  loudly  vaunt  their  own  integrity  and  decry  that  of  their 
opponents,  than  the  coolness  with  which  they  will  at  the  same  instant  of 
time  propose  two  measures  diametritally  opposed  to  one  and  the  same 
principle.  We  have  seen  that  Warwick  and  his  friends  had  agreed  to 
marry  the  protestant  Edward,  their  sovereign,  to  the  daughter  of  Henry  of 
France,  the  fiercest  persecutor  of  the  protestants.  But  even  while  they 
were  thus  proclaiming  their  friendship  with  the  chief  upholder  of  the  right 
of  Catholicism  to  persecute,  they  visited  several  of  the  most  eminent  of 
their  own  catholics  with  severe  punishment,  not  for  persecuting  protest- 
ants, but  merely  for  a  natural  unwillingness  to  be  more  speedy  than  was 
unavoidable  in  forwarding  the  protestant  measures.  Gardiner,  as  the 
most  eminent,  was  the  first  to  be  attacked.  For  two  long  years  he  was 
detained  in  prison,  and  then  Somerset  condescended  to  join  himself  with 
Secretary  Petre,  by  whom  he  had  himself  formerly  been  so  shamefully 
deserted,  as  a  deputation  to  endeavour  to  persuade  or  cajole  the  high- 
minded  and  learned,  however  mistaken  prelate,  into  a  compliant  mood. 
More  than  one  attempt  was  made ;  but  though  Gardiner  showed  himself 
very  ready  to  comply  to  a  certain  and  becoming  extent,  he  would  not 
confess  that  his  conduct  had  been  wrong ;  a  confession  of  which  he 
clearly  saw  that  his  enemies  would  make  use  to  ruin  him  in  character  as 
well  as  fortune ;  and  a  commission,  c  jnsisting  of  Cranmer,  the  bishops  of 
London,  Ely,  and  Lincoln,  Secretary  Petre,  and  some  lawyers,  sentenced 
him  to  be  deprived  of  his  bishopric  and  committed  to  close  custody ;  and 
to  make  this  iniquitous  sentence  the  more  severe,  he  was  deprived  of  all 
books  and  papers,  and  was  not  only  denied  the  comfort  of  the  visits  of  two 
friends,  but  even  of  their  letters  or  messages. 

A.  n.  1551. — Several  other  prelates  were  now  marked  out  for  persecu- 
tion ;  some  because  they  were  actually  disobedient,  others  because  they 
were  suspected  to  be  not  cordial  in  their  obedience.  Large  sums  of  money 
were  thus  wrung  from  them ;  and,  under  the  pretence  of  purging  the  libra- 
ries of  Westminster  and  Oxford  of  superstitious  books,  the  dominant  poli- 
tical party — for  religion  really  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  motives  of  War- 
wick and  his  lay  friends — destroyed  inestimable  literary  treasures  for  the 
mere  sake  of  the  comparatively  small  sums  to  be  obtained  by  the  gold  and 
silver  with  which,  unfortunately,  the  books  and  manuscripts  were  adorned. 

Much  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to  blame  the  Queen  Mary  for  her  mer- 
ciless abuse  of  power,  it  is  not  easy  to  help  admiring  the  cold,  stern,  un- 
blenching  mien  with  which  the  princess  Mary  at  this  time  of  peril  defied 
all  attempts  at  making  her  bow  to  the  dominant  party.  Deprived  of  her 
chaplains,  and  ordered  to  read  protestant  books,  she  calmly  professed  her 
readiness  to  endure  martyrdom  rather  than  prove  false  to  her  faith  ;  and 
this  conduct  she  steadfastly  maintained,  although  it  was  only  from  fear  of 
the  warlike  interference  of  the  emperor  that  her  persecutors  were  with 
held  from  offering  her  personal  violence. 

Even  in  the  midst  of  these  quasi  religious  vexations,  some  very  useful 
measures  were  taken  for  promoting  industry,  especially  by  revoking 
sundry  most  impolitic  patents,  by  which  the  trade  in  cloth,  wool,  and 
many  other  commodities  had  been  almost  entirely  thrown  into  the  hands 
of  foreigners.      The  merchants  of  the  Hanse  towns  loudly  exclaimed 


484 


THE  TRKA8UBY  OF  HISTORY. 


afainat  this  "new  measure;"  but  Warwick  and  his  Triends — this  at  least 
is  to  their  crcdii — were  firm,  and  a  very  sensible  impruvement  in  the  Kng. 
lish  spirit  of  industry  was  the  iminediHte  consequence.  Is  it  to  look  too 
curiously  into  public  cause  and  eflect  to  ask  whether  our  present  high 
comniercial  fortune  may  not  be  greatly  owing  to  this  very  measure,  though 
nearly  three  centuries  have  since  elapsed] 

But  Warwick  could  not  long  confine  his  turbulent  and  eacccr  spirit  to 
the  noble  and  peaceable  triuniplis  of  the  patriot.  Self  was  hi»  earthly 
deity.  The  title  and  the  vast  estate  of  the  earldom  of  Northumberhinri 
were  at  this  time  in  abeyance,  owing  to  the  last  earl  dying  without  issue, 
and  his  brother,  Sir  Thomas  Percy,  having  been  attainted  of  treason.  Of 
these  vast  estates,  together  with  the  title  of  duke  of  Northumberland,  War 
wick  now  possessed  himself,  and  he  procured  for  his  friend.  Lord  St.  John, 
the  title  of  marquis  of  Winchester,  and  for  Sir  William  Herbert  that  of 
earl  of  Pembroke. 

Northumberland's  complete  triumph  and  vast  acquisitions  could  not  but 
be  very  distasteful  to  Somerset,  who  not  only  cherished  the  most  violent 
intentions  towards  him,  but  was  even  stung  into  the  imprudence  of  avow- 
ing  them  in  the  presence  of  some  of  his  intimate  attendants,  among  whom 
w^s  Sir  Thomas  Palmer,  who  appeared  to  have  been  placed  in  his  service 
as  a  mere  spy  of  Northumberland's.  Somerset,  his  duchess,  and  several 
of  their  friends  and  attendants,  were  suddenly  arrested ;  and  Somerset 
was  accused  of  high  treason  and  felony;  the  former  crime  as  having  pre* 
pa'i'd  for  insurrection,  the  latter  as  having  intended  to  assassinate  Nonli- 
umberland,  Northampton,  and  Pembroke. 

The  marquis  of  Winchester,  the  friend,  almost  the  mere  follower  of 
Northumberland,  was  appointed  high  steward,  and  presided  at  the  trial  of 
Somerset;  and  of  the  twenty-seven  peers  who  made  the  jury,  three  were 
Northumberland,  Northampton,  and  Pembroke,  the  very  men  whom  lie 
had  threatened !  He  was  acquitted  of  treason,  but  found  guilty  of  felony, 
to  the  great  grief  of  the  people,  among  whom  Somerset  was  now  popular. 

A.  D.  1652. — As  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  a  mild  and  toward  young 
prince  like  Edward  VI.  would  easily,  if  at  all,  be  brought  to  turn  a  deaf 
ear  to  his  uncle's  solicitation  for  mercy,  great  care  was  taken  by  North- 
umberland to  prevent  all  access  to  the  king  of  the  friends  of  Somerset,  and 
that  unhappy  nobleman  after  all  his  services  as  regent,  and  after  his  almost 
paternal  goodness  as  guardian  of  the  king's  person,  was  executed  on 
Tower-hill ;  the  grieved  people  dipping  their  handkerchiefs  in  his  blood 
as  mementos  of  his  martyrdom.  His  friends,  Sirs  Thomas  Arundel, 
Michael  Stanhope,  Miles  Partridge,  and  Ralph  Vane  were  also  executed ; 
Paget,  chancellor  of  the  duchy  of  Lancaster,  was  deprived  of  his  office 
and  of  the  garter,  and  flned  jC6,000 :  and  Lord  Rich,  the  chancellor,  was 
also  deprived  of  office  for  the  crime  of  being  the  friend  of  Somerset,  whose 
chief  faults  seem  to  have  been  an  overweening  ambition,  co-existing  with 
rather  less  than  more  than  the  average  sagacit'  and  firmness  of  those  who 
take  the  lead  in  troublous  and  unsettled  tim"- 

A.  D.  1653. — A  new  session  of  parliame»'  was  held  immediately  after  tlie 
execution  of  Somerset,  in  which  sever?"  .egulations  were  made  that  wers 
calculated  to  advance  the  cause  of  tU<5  reformation.  But  the  commons 
having  refused  to  pass  a  bill  of  dep:ivation  against  the  universally  respect 
ed  Tonstal,  bishop  of  Durham,  a  new  parliament  was  summoned  ;  and  to 
secure  one  favourable  to  his  views  Northumberland  caused  the  king,  cer 
tainly,  and  most  probably  ihe  majority  of  the  councillors  and  peers,  to 
recommend  particular  gentlemen  to  be  sent  up  for  particular  counties. 
The  parliament,  thus  conveniently  composed,  readily  confirmed  the  depri- 
vation arbitrarily  pronounced  upon  Tonstal,  and  two  bishoprics  were  cre- 
ated out  of  that  of  Durham — tlie  rich  regalities  of  that  see  being  confened 
upon  Northumberland  himself.    Insatiable,  wholly  insatiable,  Norihuai- 


THE  TftEASDRY  OF  HIBTOUY, 


466 


berland  induced  the  king  to  bestow  the  dukedom  of  SuflTolk  upon  the  mar- 
quis of  Dorset;  nnd  having  persuaded  tlie  new  duke  to  give  liis  diuigliiur, 
Uie  iHdy  Jane  Grey,  in  murriage  to  NorthumberlHiid's  fuuith  sou,  the  Lord 
Guildford  Dudley,  next  procreeded  to  persunde  Kdward,  who  was  in  an  in- 
firm condition,  to  pass  by  liia  sisters  M:iry  and  Klizabeth,  both  of  whom 
had  been  pronounced  illegitiniute,  and  the  former  of  whom,  as  well  as  the 
young  queen  of  Si'ots,  was  a  papist,  and  to  settle  the  erown  on  the  n>ar- 
chioness  of  Dorset  (duehess  of  Suffolk)  whose  heiress  was  the  lady  Jane 
Grey.  By  a  variety  of  arguments,  some  of  whicrii  wore  both  speeious  and 
solid,  but  all  of  which,  as  proceeding  from  so  ambiti<ius  a  man,  ought  to 
have  been  lo(»ked  upon  with  suspicion,  Northumbeihmd  prevailed  upon 
the  young  king.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  judges  and  the  most  eminent  law 
officers  protested  against  being  compelled  to  draw  out  a  patent ;  it  was  in 
vain  they  urged  that  they  would  subject  lliemselves  to  the  pains  and  pen- 
altits  of  treason  should  they  do  so;  Norlhumberl:md  gave  Montague, 
chief  justice  of  common  pleas,  the  lie  ;  swore  he  would  fight  any  man  in 
his  shirt  who  should  deny  the  justice  of  lady  Jane's  succession  ;  and  was 
80  successful  that  the  erown  was  accordingly  settled  upon  lady  Jane  ;  her 
mother,  the  duchess  of  Suffolk,  very  willingly  allowing  heiself  to  be 
passed  by. 

This  patent  was  by  many  looked  upon  as  the  death-warrant  of  Edward 
VI.  signed  by  himself.  His  health  daily  grew  worse,  and  his  physicians 
being  dismissed  in  favour  of  some  ignorant  woman,  her  quack  medicines 
brought  on  symptoms  at  once  fatal  and  very  symptomatic  of  poisoit,  and 
he  died  in  the  Ifilh  year  of  his  age  and  the  seventh  of  his  reigu. 

The  whole  life  and  reign  of  this  prince  was  spent  literally  in  stfitu  pupil- 
lari;  but  so  far  us  he  could  in  such  a  state  manifest  his  disposition,  he 
seems  fully  to  have  deserved  the  affection  with  which  even  to  this  day 
he  is  spoken  of. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 


THE    REION    OF    MARY. 


A.  D.  1553. — The  artful  precautions  taken  by  Northumberland  to  secure 
the  throne  to  his  young  and  accomplished  daughter-in-law,  by  no  means 
rendered  the  success  of  the  project — for  which  he  had  certainly  toiled 
much,  and  for  which,  we  fear,  he  had  sinned  no  little — so  secure  as  at  first 
siglit  it  might  seem.  In  the  first  place,  young  Edward's  reign  had  been  so 
short  and  completely  a  reign  of  tutelage,  that  his  will  had  none  of  that 
force  with  the  multitude  which  was  possessed  by  the  will  of  his  bluff  and 
iron-handed  father.  Henry  VHI.  had,  it  is  true,  bastardized  both  his 
laughters,  but  he  had  subsequently  restored  them  to  the  succession  ;  and 
the  people  were  too  mu(!h  accustomed  to  regarding  Mary  as  tlie  rightful 
successor  to  Edward,  in  the  event  of  liis  dying  without  issue,  to  allow 
of  the  almost  dying  act  of  the  young  king  speedily  changing  their  opin- 
ion and  directing  their  loyalty  to  tlie  lady  Jane.  Again,  the  catholics, 
far  more  inimerous  secretly  than  might  be  imagined,  were  to  a  man 
pailizans  of  Mary;  and  if  the  protestants  had  some  misgivings,  founded 
on  her  known  bigotry  in  favour  of  her  own  faith,  they  yet  feared  even 
the  bigot  far  less  than  the  lady  Jane,  who,  as  they  well  knew,  could 
be  and  would  be  a  mere  puppet  in  the  hands  of  Northumberland,  who 
by  this  time  had  contrived  to  render  himself  at  onite  tlie  most  powerful, 
the  most  dreaded,  and  the  Uiosl  detested  man  in  the  whole  nation.  And 
It  is  worthy  of  observation  also,  that  so  nearly  balainted  were  the  par 
i'Ziins  of  the  respective  religions,  that  each  stood  in  dread  of  the  otner 

Uut  Northumberland  was  far  too  wily  a  personage  to  be  ignorant  *•' 


486 


TUB  TRKA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


the  weiBht  which,  with  the  majority  or  the  people,  detestation  ot  hint 
seir  and  respect  for  the  memory  of  Henry  VIII.  would  have  in  decidiuj 
between  the  princess  Mary  and  the  lady  Jane.  When,  therefore,  he 
perceived  that  the  speedy  death  of  Edward  was  inevitable,  Norlhinnberland 
caused  the  princesses  Mary  and  Elizabeth  to  be  sent  for,  as  tliou^fh  the 
young  king  had  been  desimus  of  seeing  them.  Mary  had  reached  Hod- 
desden  in  llcrtfordsiiire,  only  about  seventeen  milts  from  London,  when 
the  king  died.  Northumberland,  anxious  to  get  her  into  his  power, 
gave  orders  that  the  melancholy  event  should  be  kept  a  secret ;  but  the 
earl  of  Arundel  sent  her  warning  of  Northumberland's  deceit  and  pro. 
bable  designs,  and  she  hastily  retreated  to  the  retired  fishing  town  of 
Framliiigham,  in  SufTolk,  whence  she  sent  letters  to  the  council  and  to 
the  principal  nobility,  informing  them  of  her  knowledge  of  her  brother's 
death,  promising  indemnity  to  all  who  had  thus  far  aided  in  concealing 
it,  but  calling  upon  them  forthwith  to  proclaim  her  as  queen.  While 
thus  active  in  asserting  her  right,  slie  carefully  provided,  also,  for  her 
flight  into  Flanders,  in  the  event  of  her  efforts  proving  unsuccessful. 

When  Northumberland  found  that  Edward's  death  was  known  to  the 
rightful  queen,  he  at  once  threw  off  all  disguise.  Lord  and  the  lady  Jane 
Dudley  were  at  this  time  residing  at  8ion  House ;  and  Northumberland, 
with  James'  father,  the  earl  of  Pembroke,  andother  noblemen,  approached 
her  with  all  the  form  and  respect  due  from  subjects  to  their  sovereign. 
Young,  gifted  with  singular  talents  for  literature,  and  with  a  scarcely  less 
singular  propension  towards  literary  pursuits,  Jane  viewed  the  throne  in 
its  true  hght  as  a  dangerous  and  uneasy  eminence.  Even  now  when  her 
father,  her  still  more  powerful  and  dreaded  father-in-law,  and  the  very 
chiefest  men  in  the  kingdom,  with  all  the  emblemsof  state,  pressed  her  to 
assume  the  authority  of  queen,  she  recoiled  from  it  as  an  evil  of  the  first 
magnitude.  Her  husband,  though,  like  herself,  but  little  more  than  six- 
teen years  of  age,  had  been  but  too  skilfully  tutored  by  his  wily  father, 
and  he  seconded  that  ambitious  man's  entreaties  so  well  that,  overcome 
though  not  convinced,  the  unfortunate  Jane  consented.  She  was  imme- 
diately escorted  to  the  Tower,  the  usual  residence  of  the  English  sove- 
reigns  on  their  first  accession ;  and  Northumberland  took  care  that  she 
should  be  accompanied  thither,  not  only  by  his  known  and  fast  friends, 
but  also  by  the  whole  of  the  councillors,  whom  he  thus,  in  effect,  made 
prisoners  and  hostages  for  the  adhesion  of  their  absent  friends.  Orders 
were  now  issued  to  proclaim  Queen  Jane  throughout  the  kingdom,  but  it  was 
only  in  London,  where  Northumberland's  authority  was  as  yet  too  firm  to 
be  openly  resisted,  that  the  orders  were  obeyed.  And  even  in  Loudon  the 
maji>rity  listened  to  the  proclamation  in  a  sullen  and  ominous  silence.  Some 
openly  scoffed  at  Jane's  pretensions,  and  one  unfortunate  boy,  who  was  a 
vintner's  servant,  whs  severely  punished  for  even  this  verbal,  and  perhaps 
unreasoning  opposition  to  the  will  of  the  haughty  Northumberland. 

While  the  people  of  London  were  thus  cool  towards  their  nominal 
queen,  and  even  the  protestants  listened  without  conviction  to  the  preach- 
ings of  Ridley  and  other  eminent  protestant  churchmen  in  her  favour,  Mary 
in  her  retreat  in  Suffolk  was  actively  and  ably  exerting  herself  for  the  pro- 
tection of  her  birthright.  She  was  surrounded  by  eminent  and  influential 
men  with  their  levies  of  tenants  or  hired  adherents;  and  as  she  strongly 
and  repeatedly  professed  her  determination  not  to  infringe  the  laws  of  her 
brother  with  respect  to  religion,  even  the  protestants  throughout  Suffolk, 
equally  with  the  catholics,  were  enthusiastic  in  her  cause.  Nor  was  the 
feeling  in  favour  of  Mary  exhibited  merely  in  her  own  neighbourhood,  or 
}imong  those  who  might  be  called  her  personal  friends.  Northumberland 
fnminissioned  Sir  Edward  Hastings,  brother  of  the  earl  of  Huntingdon,  to 
levy  men  in  Buckinghamshire  on  behalf  of  Jane.  Sir  Edward  executed 
the  commission  with  great  readiness  atid  success  as  far  as  related  to  levy* 


THE  TRBASUaY  OF  HISTORY.  f| 

Ing  the  men ;  but  he  no  sooner  found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  force  of 
nearly  four  tliousand  strong  than  he  marched  in  to  the  aid  of  Mary.  Wi'.li 
tilt!  marine  the  dukv  was  not  more  fortunate  than  with  the  land  forces  ;  a 
fleet  was  sent  by  him  to  cruise  off  the  Suffolk  coast,  to  cut  Mary  off  from 
tier  retreat  to  Flanders,  should  she  attempt  it,  and  was  driv  -  by  stress  of 
weather  into  Yarmouth,  where  it  immediately  declared  in  K      ir  of  Mary. 

I'lrplexed  and  alarmed,  Northumberland  yet  determined  not  to  give  up 
the  ^rrund  prize  without  a  stout  effort  for  its  preservation-  He  determined 
to  remain  with  Jane  at  the  Tower,  and  to  commit  the  command  of  the 
troops  he  had  levied  to  her  father.  But  the  imprisoned  councillors,  clear- 
ly understanding  both  their  own  position  and  his,  astutely  persuaded  him 
that  he  alone  was  fit  to  head  the  forces  upon  which  so  much  depended, 
and  they,  at  the  same  time,  successfully  worked  upon  the  fears  of  Jane  on 
behalf  of  her  father.  The  councillors  were  the  more  successful  ni  per- 
suading Norlhumberland  to  the  almost  suicidal  act  of  taking  the  command 
of  the  troops,  because,  while  he  naturally  felt  great  confidence  in  his  om  a 
well-tried  valour  and  ability,  he  was  well  aware  of  the  inferiority  of  bul- 
folk  in  the  latter  respect  at  least. 

Northumberland  accordingly  set  out  to  combat  the  forces  of  the  enemy, 
and  was  taken  leave  of  by  the  councillors  with  every  expression  of  at- 
tachment and  confidence  of  his  success ;  and  Arundel,  his  bitterest  enemy, 
was  by  no  means  the  least  profuse  of  these  expressions.  Scarcely,  how- 
ever, had  Northumberland  marched  out  of  London  ere  he  perceived  a  bo- 
ding and  chilling  sullenness  among  all  ranks  of  men ;  and  he  remarked  to 
Lord  Grey,  who  accompanied  him,  "  Many  come  out  to  look  at  our  array, 
indeed,  but  I  find  not  one  who  cries  '  God  speed  your  enterprise.'' " 

Arrived  at  Bury  St.  Edmund's,  the  duke  found  that  his  army  did  not 
greatly  exceed  six  thousand  men,  while  the  lowest  reports  of  the  opposite 
force  gave  double  that  number.  Aware  of  the  immense  importance  of  the 
first  encounter,  Northumberland  resolved  to  delay  his  proposed  attack,  and 
sent  an  express  to  the  councillors  to  send  him  a  large  and  instant  rein- 
forcement. But  the  councillors  had  no  sooner  received  the  duke's  express 
than  they  left  the  Tower,  on  the  pretext  of  obey  ing  his  order ;  and  assembled 
at  Baynard's  castle,  the  house  of  Pembroke,  to  deliberate,  not  upon  the 
means  of  aiding  Northumberland,  but  upon  the  best  means  of  throwing  off 
his  yoke,  and  of  dethroning  the  puppet  queen  he  had  set  over  them.  Arun- 
del, whom  Northumberland  had  with  a  most  unaccountable  weakness  left 
behind,  expatiated  warmly  and  eloquently  upon  all  Northumberland's 
vices  and  evil  deeds,  and  exhorted  the  others,  as  the  only  just  or  even 
prudent  course,  to  join  him  in  at  once  throwing  their  weight  into  the  scale 
of  Mary,  and  thus  insuring  not  merely  her  pardon  for  their  past  involun- 
tary offences,  but  also  her  favour  for  their  present  and  prompt  loyalty. 
Pembroke  loudly  applauded  the  advice  of  Arundel,  and,  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  sword,  expressed  his  readiness  to  fight  on  the  instant  any  man 
who  should  pretend  to  oppose  it.  The  mayor  and  aldermen  of  London 
being  sent  for  to  attend  this  conference,  showed  the  utmost  alacrity  to 
proclaim  Mary,  and  the  proclamation  was  accordingly  made  amid  the 
most  rapturous  applauses  of  the  populace.  The  reign  of  Jane,  if  a  lonely 
and  anxious  confinement  in  the  Tower  for  ten  days  could  be  called  a 
reign,  was  now  at  an  end;  and  she  retired  to  her  private  residence  and 
private  station,  with  a  readiness  as  great  as  the  reluctance  she  had  showa 
to  leave  them. 

The  councillors  having  thus  completely  beaten  Northumberland  in 
his  chief  or  only  stronghold,  sent  messengers  to  demand  that  he  should 
lay  down  liis  arms,  disband  his  troops,  and  submit  himself  to  the  mercy 
of'^his  rightful  sovereign,  Queeir  Mary.  The  message  was  needless; 
Northumberland,  receiving  no  reinforcement  from  London,  saw  the  im- 
nossibility  of  resisting  the  hourly  increasing  force  of  Mary,  and  finding 


488 


TUB  THBASURY  OF  HISTOttY. 


hirntolf  fast  deserted  by  his  Imndful  of  foreigners,  had  alreiidy  nnx-hiim. 
edQuciMi  Mary  with  as  much  apparent  hoartini.'ss  and  zeal  an  tiiouyh  he 
liail  not  aiincul  at  her  crown— and  probably  her  life. 

Mary,  on  receivinjf  the  sulmiission  and  hypocritical  adhesion  of  Nor- 
thumberland, set  out  lor  London.  Her  progrcHS  was  one  continued  and  un- 
broken triumph.  Kverywhcre  she  was  met  by  multitudes  of  the  people 
invoking  blessings  upon  her;  her  sister,  the  ladv  Klizabeth,  met  lier  althe 
licadofa  tiionsaai'  well-apnointed  horse,  and  when  slie  reached  the  Tower 
she  found  that  even  SufTolk  had  thrown  open  its  gates  and  declared  hiin. 
self  in  her  favour.  All  circumstances  considered,  there  is  searet^ly  an 
instance  in  history  to  equal  this  in  the  facility  with  which  a  rin^litful 
princess  of  no  amiable  character,  and  opposed  to  a  large  portion  of  hur 
subjects  in  religion,  vanijuishcd  the  opposition  of  so  wily,  so  daring,  and 
so  act  omplished  a  pre- usurper  as  Northumberland. 

Mercy  was  assuredly  not  the  characteristic  of  Mary,  but  the  nttnost 
infatuation  of  mercy  could  not  have  allowed  offences  so  gross  as  those 
of  Northumberland  to  pass  unpunished.  Mary  gave  orders  for  his  arrest, 
and,  whether  from  being  broken-spirited  by  liis  ill  success,  or  from  sheer 
cowardice  and  a  lingering  hope  of  saving  ut  least  his  life,  he  fell  on  his 
knees  to  his  bitter  enemy,  Arundel,  who  arrested  him,  and  implored  his 
mercy.  His  sons,  the  earl  of  Warwick  and  lords  Ambrose  and  Henry 
Dudley,  and  his  brother  Sir  Andrew  Dudley,  were  at  the  same  time  com. 
milled  to  custody ;  as  were  the  marquis  of  Northampton,  tlie  earl  of 
Huntingdon,  Sir  Thomas  Palmer,  and  Sir  John  Gates.  On  farther 
inquiry  and  consideration,  the  queen's  advisers  fou-vl  it  necessary  to  con- 
fine the  duke  of  Suffolk,  Lord  Guildford  Dudley,  and  his  innocent  and 
unfortunate  wife,  ttie  lady  ,1ane.  At  this  early  pei'iod  of  her  reign  pol- 
icy  overcame  Mary's  natural  propensity  to  cruelly  and  sterimess.  The 
councillors,  pleading  their  constraint  by  Northumoerland,  were  speedily 
liberated,  and  even  Suffolk  himself  was  not  excluded  from  this  act  of 
mingled  justice  and  mercy.  Northumberland,  Sir  Thomas  Palmer,  and 
Sir  John  Gates  were  brought  to  trial.  The  duke's  offence  was  too  clear 
and  flagrant  to  admit  of  any  elaborate  defence;  but  he  asked  the  peers 
whether  they  could  possibly  pronounce  a  man  guilty  of  treason  who  had 
obeyed  orders  under  the  great  seal,  and  whether  persons  who  had  been  in- 
volved in  his  alledged  guilt  could  ne  allowed  to  sit  in  judgment  upon 
him?  The  answer  to  each  question  a  as  obvious.  In  reply  to  the  first, 
ne  was  told  that  the  great  seal  of  a  usurper  could  have  no  authority ;  to 
the  second,  that  persons  not  having  any  sentence  of  attaint  against  iheiii 
were  clearly  qualified  to  sit  on  any  jury.  Northumberland  then  pleaded 
guilty,  and  he,  with  Sir  Thomas  Palmer  and  Sir  John  Gates  were  execu- 
ted. At  the  scaffold  Northumberland  professed  to  die  in  the  catholic 
faith,  and  assured  the  bystanders  that  they  would  never  prosper  until  tlio 
catholic  religion  should  be  restored  to  all  its  authority  among  iheui.  Con- 
flidering  the  whole  character  of  Northumberland  and  the  indifference  he 
had  always  shown  to  disputes  of  faith,  it  is  but  too  probable  that  even  iii 
these  his  dying  words  he  was  insincere,  and  used  them  to  engage  the 
mercy  of  the  queen,  whose  bigotry  they  might  flatter,  towards  his  unfor- 
tunate family.  Upon  the  people  his  advice  wrought  no  effect.  Many 
looked  upon  the  preparations  for  his  death  merely  with  a  cold,  unpitying 
sternness,  still  more  shouted  to  him  to  remember  Somerset,  and  some 
even  held  up  to  him  handkerchiefs  incrusted  with  the  blood  of  that  noble- 
man, and  exulted,  rather  like  fiends  than  men,  that  his  hour  of  a  like 
bloody  doom  was  at  length  arrived. 

Lord  Guildford  Dudley  and  the  lady  Jane  were  also  condemned  to  death, 
but  tlieir  youth  and,  perhaps,  Mary'.s  feeling  of  the  impolicy  of  extreme 
severity  to  criminals  who  had  so  evidently  offended  under  the  constraint 
and  tutelage  of  Northumberland,  saved  them  for  the  present — a'as  I  onlt 
for  the  present ! 


THE  THRA8CJUY  OF  HISTOIIY 


*m 


first, 
ity ;  to 
them 
oadcd 

JXCCII- 

atholic 
iiitiltlio 
Coil- 
Micu  he 
even  in 
age  tlic 
unfor- 
Many 
ipitying 
id  some 
iioblo- 
f  a  lii<e 

0  dcatli, 
xtreme 
istraint 


Thn  reign  of  Mary  roiitniim  «o  liltio  upon  wlmli  ii.i'  "  ii»riiin  pan  •• 
itow  even  lU'ijalivo  praiHf,  that  it  is  j)l»'asiiiu  to  lu'  aMc  lo  innaik  iIm  lie 
very  cariu'st  portion  of  licr  n*iu'ii,  if  Htanwd  with  tin-  li ood^licd  uf  u  nc 
irnsary  jiinlice,  was  also  marked  l»y  hoiiio  ncl.i  (»!'  jiisiicc  and  ijraliludo. 
Wlu'H  «li«'  arrived  at  the  'I'dwer  of  Fjondoti  and  inaile  her  triiinipn.tnt  ep.. 
try  into  that  fortress,  the  (hike?  «)f  Norfolk,  who  had  li:rn  in  prixin  from 
the  close  of  the  reiKii  of  Henry  VIII.,  (Niurtney,  son  of  tin;  inaKpiis  of 
Kxeler,  wlKM^ver  Hinen  Ins  father's  alt  linder  had  heiii  in  the  same  con- 
fineinent,  thon!,Mi  when  lie  entered  it  he  was  a  mere  ehild  and  there  was 
110  sliadow  of  a  eharye  against  liim,  with  liishops  (Jardiiier,  Monner,  and 
'i'oiislal,  were  allowed  to  meet  her  on  the  Tower  grt  en,  where  they  fell 
upon  their  knees  before  lujr,  and  iniploied  her  ijrace  and  protection. 
They  were  restored  to  liheriy  immediately  ;  Norfolk's  attainder  was  re- 
moved as  having  been  al>  nngine  null  and  invalid,  and  (Jonrlney  was  made 
earl  of  Devonshire.  Gardiner,  Homier,  and  Tonstal  were  reappointed  to 
their  sees  by  a  '"ommission  which  was  ■i|)poiiited  lo  review  their  trial  and 
condemnation;  and  Day,  Heath,  and  Vesy  recovered  their  sees  by  the 
same  means. 

Thequ(!cn's  zeal  for  the  catholic  religion  now  began  to  show  itself. 
Holgate,  archbishop  of  York,  Coverdalc,  lo  whom  the  rcforinaiion  owed 
so  much,  Ridley,  Hooper,  and  Laliiner,  were  speedily  thrown  into  prison  ; 
and  the  bishops  and  priests  wore  exhorted  and  encouraged  to  revive  the 
mass,  though  the  laws  against  it  were  still  in  unrepealed  forcie.  Judge 
Hales,  who  had  so  well  and  zealously  defended  the  right  of  the  princ(!S8 
Mary  when  her  brother  desired  him  to  draw  the  patent  which  was  to  ex- 
clude her  from  the  throne,  opposed  the  illegal  practices  which  Queen 
Mary  now  sanctioned.  All  his  former  merits  were  forgotten  in  this  new 
proof  of  his  genuine  and  uncompromising  honesty ;  he  wa«  thrown  into 
prison,  and  there  treated  with  such  merciless  cruelty  and  insult,  that  he 
lost  his  senses  and  committed  suicide. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  zeal  of  the  men  of  Suffolk,  during  Mary's 
retreat  at  Framlingham,  was  stimulated  by  her  pointed  and  repeated  as- 
surances that  she  would  in  no  wise  alter  the  laws  of  her  brother  Kdward, 
as  to  religion.  These  simple  and  honest  men,  seeing  the  gross  partiality 
and  tyranny  by  which  the  queen  now  sought  to  depress  the  protestants, 
ventured  lo  remind  her  of  her  former  promises.  Their  remonstrance  waa 
received  as  though  it  had  been  some  monstrous  and  seditious  matter,  and 
one  of  them  continuing  his  address  with  a  somewhat  uncourtly  pertina- 
city was  placed  in  the  pillory  for  his  pains. 

Cranmer,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  by  the  change  of  sovereigns 
placed  ill  a  most  perilous  position.  It  is  true  that  (hiring  the  life  of  Henry 
VIII.  Cranmer  had  often  and  zealously  exerted  himself  to  prevent  that 
monarch's  rage  from  being  felt  by  the  princess  Mary.  But  Mary's  grati- 
tude as  a  woman  was  but  little  security  against  her  bigotry  as  a  ndigion- 
ist ;  and  any  services  that  Cranmer  had  rendered  her  were  likely  enough 
to  be  forgotten,  in  consideration  of  the  discouragements  he  had  dealt  to 
her  religion  in  his  character  of  champion  as  well  as  child  of  the  refornia- 
tioii.  Nothing,  probably,  could  have  saved  Cranmer  but  entire  silence  and 
resignation  of  his  see,  or  immediate  emigraiion.  But  Cranmer  was  too 
hearty  and  sincere  in  his  love  of  the  reformed  religion,  and,  perhaps,  was 
also  loo  confident  of  its  success,  even  now  that  Rome  was  backed  by  the 
queen,  to  be  in  anywise  minded  for  craven  silence  or  retreat.  His  ene- 
mies, perceiving  that  as  yet  he  had  met  with  no  signal  affront  or  injury 
from  the  queen,  spread  a  report  that  he  owed  his  safety  and  probable  favour 
lo  his  having  promised  to  say  mass  before  Mary.  Situated  as  Cranmer 
was,  it  would  have  been  his  wisest  plan  to  have  listened  to  this  insulting 
report  with  contemptuous  silence,  anJ  to  have  relied  upon  his  well-earned 
character  to  refute  the  calumny  to  all  who.se  judgment  was  of  any  reiil 


490 


THE  TREASUIIY  OF  HISTORY. 


coDicquciico.  But  tlin  ardibiiihop  tlioiiglu  otherwise,  and  he  lia.stened  to 
puhliih  a  tiiaiiifnto  in  wliiclilm  gave  tliu  moal  iiiiqiialirivil  cotitradiciioii  lu 
(he  report.  Nay,  hu  did  nut  stop  even  here;  not  contenl  with  vindi<Mtni){ 
himfieir  ho  eniert'd  more  aencrally  into  the  mutter,  and  thus  jj.ive  his  etii!. 
mieM  thill  very  handle  atfiimst  liitn  whieh  they  bo  eagerly  wJHhed  for.  ||u 
said,  iirier  conlradictiiiKthe  charge,  that,  "  an  the  devil  was  a  liar  Trointlie 
be<(iniiiii(;,  and  the  father  uf  lies,  ho  had  at  this  time  Htirred  up  his  acr. 
vaiits  tu  (wrflecuto  Chriat  and  liia  true  religion;  that  this  infernal  spirit 
wax  now  endeavouring  to  restore  the  Latin  Hatisfuctory  inatiHeM,  n  thiiiK 
of  his  own  invention  and  deviee;  and,  in  order  to  efTect  his  piirpoxe,  had 
faUidv  made  use  of  hia,  Craniner'a,  name  and  authority  ;"  and  Craiimer 
addecf,  that  "the  mass  is  not  only  without  foun<lation  in  either  the  scrii). 
tures  or  the  practice  of  the  primitive  church,  but  likewise  diHcovers  a  phim 
conlrudiction  to  antiquity  and  the  inspired  writings,  and  is,  besides,  ru> 
plete  with  many  horrid  blasphemies." 

However  much  we  may  admire  the  general  character  of  Cranincr— 
though  it  was  by  no  means  without  its  blemishes — it  is  impossible  forthu 
most  zealous  and  sincere  protestants  to  deny  that,  under  tiiu  circumstan- 
ces of  the  nation,  many  of  the  passages  we  have  quoted  were  grossly 
offensive;  and  equally  impossible  is  it  to  deny  that  under  Cranmer's  now 

fersonal  circumstances  they  were  as  grossly  and  gratuitously  impolitic 
lis  ener.iies  eagerly  availed  themselves  of  his  want  of  temper  or  policy, 
and  used  this  really  coarse  and  inflammatory  paper  as  a  means  by  whicli 
to  induce  the  queen  to  throw  him  into  prison  for  the  share  he  had  had  in 
the  usurpation  of  the  lady  Jane,  about  whieh  he  otherwise  would  prohiihly 
have  remained  unquestioned.  Merely  as  the  protestant  archbishop,  Cran- 
mer  had  more  than  enough  of  enemies  in  the  house  of  peers  to  insure  IiIh 
being  found  guilty,  and  he  was  sentenced  to  death  on  the  charge  of  hi<r|i 
treason.  He  was  not,  however,  as  might  have  been  expected,  immedi- 
ately and  upon  this  sentence  put  to  death,  but  committed  back  to  close 
custody,  where  he  was  kept,  as  will  soon  be  seen,  for  a  still  more  cruel 
doom. 
.  Every  day  made  it  more  and  more  evident  that  the  protestants  had  noth- 
ing to  expect  but  the  utmost  severity  of  persecution,  and  many  even  of 
the  most  eminent  of  their  preachers  began  to  look  abroad  and  to  exile  for 
safety.  Peter  Martyr,  who  in  the  late  prosperity  of  the  reformers  had 
been  formally  and  with  much  pressing  invited  to  England,  now  applied  to 
the  council  for  permission  to  return  to  his  own  country.  At  first  the 
council  seemed  much  inclined  to  refuse  compliance  with  this  reasonable 
request.  But  Gardiner,  with  a  spirit  which  makes  us  the  more  regret 
that  bigotry  ever  induced  him  to  act  less  generously,  represented  that  as 
Peter  had  been  invited  to  England  by  the  government,  his  departure  could 
not  be  opposed  without  the  utmost  national  disgrace.  Nor  did  Gardiner's 
generosity  end  here ;  having  obtained  Peter  permission  to  leave  the 
realm,  he  supplied  him  with  money  to  travel  with.  The  bones  of  Petet 
Martyr's  wife  were  shortly  afterwards  torn  from  the  grave  at  Oxford,  and 
buried  in  a  dunghill ;  and  the  university  of  Cambridge  about  the  same 
time  disgraced  itself  by  exhuming  the  bones  of  Bucer  and  Fagius,  two 
eminent  foreign  reformers  who  had  been  buried  there  in  the  late  reign. 
John  ii  Lasco  and  his  congregation  were  now  ordered  to  depart  tlie  king- 
dom, and  most  of  the  foreign  protestants  took  so  significant  a  hint  and 
followed  them;  by  which  the  country  was  deprived  of  its  most  skilful  and 
industrious  artizans  just  as  they  were  giving  a  useful  and  extensive  im- 
pulse to  its  manufactures.  The  temper  manifested  by  the  court,  and  the 
sudden  departure  of  the  foreign  protestants,  greatly  alarmed  the  protes- 
tants iiA  general ;  and  many  of  the  English  of  that  communion  followed 
the  exancple  set  them  by  their  foreign  brethren,  and  fled  from  a  land 
which  everything  seemed  to  threaten  with  the  most  terrible  and  s[>eedy 
troubles. 


TBEA^UHY  OP  HISTORY. 


4ti 


rhn  mcetinff  of  parliaiiitut  by  no  m<  aii!*  ini|iruvr-tl  the  proiipoftK  n(  t)i« 
proU'slKiita.  It  lias  already  been  reinarkeil  ttiat,  however  eiMiiitlitily  ihs 
refortiiHlion  ini{{lit  ^.ive  seemed  to  he  lriiiin|ili>int,  there  wan  fdiineiliing 
like  a  inoi'lVi  iil  leuHi,  ortho  nation  tliut  wan  itlill  in  heart  attat  lied  to  the 
old  faith.  Fu  thene  the  court  could  add  as  prartieal  Triends  that  lar({fl 
body  which  in  all  tiinen  and  in  all  countries  is  ready  lu  side  with  llieijnin- 
iiiaiit  party ;  thern  was  consequently  no  difTlcnlty  experienced  in  k*'!''"! 
ftiu'h  men  retiirneil  to  parliament  as  would  he  pliant  tools  in  the  liaiidH  of 
Mary  and  her  iniiiisters.  To  the  dismay  of  the  protestaiits,  tli(iu(;h  it 
would  he  to  impeach  their  8a{{aeity  Nhoiild  we  Hay  that  it  wa^  |o  their 
iurpris  also,  parliament  was  opened  not  by  prayer  after  the  reformed 
ordmaucc,  hut  by  the  culubration  of  mass  in  the  Latin  tongue.  Tayh)r, 
bishop  of  Lincoln,  more  sincere,  or  at  all  events  more  courageous  than 
tome  of  his  brethren,  hone)<lly  refused  to  kneel  at  this  ma^<s,  and  was  ill 
consequence  very  rudidy  assailed  by  some  of  the  catholic  zealots,  and  at 
length  actually  thrust  from  the  house. 

After  following  the  good  example  of  the  parliament  of  the  last  reign  in 
passing  nn  act  by  which  all  law  of  treason  was  limited  to  tJic  statute  of 
Kdward  III.,  and  all  law  of  felony  to  the  law  as  it  stood  before  (1  Henry 
VIII.)  the  parliament  pronounced  the  queen  legitimate,  ainiuUed  the  di 
vorce  pronounced  by  Cranmer  between  Catherine  of  Arra^on  and  Henry 
VlII.,  and  severely  censured  Cranmer  on  account  of  that  divorce.  It  is  a 
little  singular  that  even  the  acute  Hume  has  not  noticed  the  inconsistency 
witit  which  Mary  had  by  the  vote  of  lier  parliament,  which  in  reality  was 
her  vote  as  the  membets  were  her  mere  creatures,  denied  the  infallibility 
and  upset  the  deci.sion  of  that  holy  see,  the  infallibility  of  which  she  pre- 
scribed to  her  subjects  on  pain  of  the  stake  and  the  tar  barrel ! 

Continuing  in  the  same  hopeful  course,  the  parliament  now  at  one  foil 
swoop,  and  by  a  single  vote,  repealed  all  those  statutes  of  Kh^  Edxuard  loilh 
respect  to  religion,  which  Marii  had  again  and  ttfraiii,  and  sometimes  even 
voluntarily,  said  that  nothing  should  irnlucc  her  to  disturb !  Dicers'  oaths 
and  lovers'  vows  are  not  more  frail  than  the  promises  of  a  bigot! 

Mary,  who  even  in  her  first  youth  had  no  feminine  beauty  to  boist,  was 
considerably  above  thirty  years  of  aije,  indeed  fast  approaching  to  forty— 
that  decline  of  life  to  even  the  most  brilliant  personal  charms — when  she 
ascended  the  throne ;  and  when  her  parliament  showed  its  anxiety  as  to 
her  marriage  she  herself  appeared  to  be  fully  as  anxious.  Courtney,  son 
of  the  marquis  of  Exeter,  whom  she  liberated  from  the  Tower  at  her  ac- 
cession ami  created  earl  of  Devon,  was  at  that  time  a  very  young  man, 
and  possessed  not  only  great  perfection  of  manly  beauty,  but  also,  despite 
nis  long  and  dreary  imprisonment,  all  those  graces  and  accomplishments 
which  are  so  rarely  to  be  acquired  elsewhere  than  at  court.  The  queen 
was  so  favourably  .nipressed  by  his  manners  and  appearance,  that  she 
formed  the  idea  of  raising  him  to  the  dignity  of  her  husband  ;  and  as  her 
situation  would  have  rendered  any  advances  on  his  part  presumptuous, 
8iie  not  only  showed  him  all  possible  pcrsontil  distinction,  but  even  caused 
official  hints  to  be  given  lo  him  of  the  favour  with  wliich  he  might  hope 
for  his  highest  aspirations  being  received.  But  Comlney  was  young  and 
romantic,  and  Mary  was  not  only  disagreeable  in  face  and  figure,  and  re- 
pulsive ill  manner,  but  was  also  very  nearly  old  enough  to  be  his  mother, 
and  lie  showed  not  the  slightest  intention  of  profiting  by  the  amorous  con- 
descension of  his  sovereign.  Enraged  that  he  should  neglect  her,  she 
was  still  more  enraged  when  she  discovered  that  he  was  a  close  attendant 
upon  hor  sister  Elizabeth,  then  in  her  first  flush  of  youth.  The  parliament, 
by  annulling  the  divon;e  of  Mary's  mother,  had  virtually  pronounced  Eliz- 
ubeth's  illegitimacy ;  and  as  Mary  on  discovering  Courtney's  partiality  to 
that  princess  exhibited  extreme  annoyance  and  laid  her  under  great  re- 
striction, Elizabeth's  friends  began  to  be  seriously  alarmed  for  even  he; 


m 


THK  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


#/ 


personal  satety,  especially  as  her  attachment  to  the  reformed  religion 
could  not  fail  to  increase  the  hatred  called  down  upon  her  by  the  attach- 
ment  of  Courtney  to  herself. 

Despairing  of  making  any  impression  upon  the  youthful  fancy  of  the 
earl  of  Devon,  Mary  now  bestowed  a  passing  glance  at  the  graver  and 
more  elderly  attractions  of  the  Cardinal  Pole.  It  is  true  he  was  a  car- 
dinal, but  lie  had  never  taken  priest's  orders.  He  was  a  man  of  high 
character  for  wisdom  and  humanity,  and  yet  had  suffered  much  for  his 
attachment  to  the  catholic  church,  of  which,  on  the  death  of  Pope  Paul 
III.,  he  had  nearly  obtained  the  highest  honour;  and  his  mother,  that  old 
countess  of  Salisbury  who  was  so  brutally  beheaded  by  order  of  Henry 
VIII.,  iiad  been  a  most  kind  and  beloved  governess  to  Mary  in  her  gjr]. 
hood.  But  the  cardinal  was  somewhat  too  far  advanced  in  life  to  please 
Mary,  and  it  was,  moreover,  hinted  to  her  by  her  friends,  that  he  was  now 
too  long  habituated  to  a  quiet  and  studious  life  to  be  able  to  reconcile 
himself  to  the  glitter  and  bustle  of  the  court.  But  though  she  rejected 
Pole  as  a  husband,  she  resolved  to  have  the  benefit,  of  his  abilities  as  a 
minister,  and  she  accordingly  sent  assurances  to  Pope  Julius  III.  of  her 
anxious  desire  to  reconcile  her  kingdom  to  the  holy  see,  and  requested 
that  Cardinal  Pole  might  bo  appointed  legate  to  arrange  that  important 
business. 

Charles  V.,  the  emperor,  who  but  a  few  years  before  was  master  of  all 
Germany,  had  recently  met  with  severe  reverses  both  in  Germany  and 
France,  in  which  latter  country  he  was  so  obstinately  resisted  by  the  duke 
of  Guise,  lliat  lie  was  at  length  obliged  to  retire  with  the  remnant  of  his 
dispirited  army  into  the  low  countries.     Far-seeing  and  an)bitious,  Charles 
no  sooner  heard  of  the  accession  of  Mary  to  the  throne  of  England,  than 
he  formed  the  design  of  making  the  gain  of  that  kinijdom  compensate  for 
the  losses  he  had  sustained  in  Germany.     His  son  Philip  was  a  widower 
and  though  he  was  oidy  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  and  eleven  years' 
Mary's  junior,  the  emperor  determined  to  demand  her  hand  for  his  son, 
and  sent  over  an  agent  for  that  purpose.     If  Mary  had  looked  with  favour 
upon  Courtney's  person,  and  had  felt  a  passing  attachment  excited  by  the 
mental  endowments  of  Canlinal  Pole,  Philip  had  the  double  recommenda- 
tion of  being  a  zealous  catholic,  and  of  her  mother's  family.    'I'hus  actu- 
ated by  bigotry  and  by  family  feeling,  and  being,  moreover,  by  no  means 
disinclined  to  matrimony,  Mary  gladly  entertained  tlie  proposal,  and  was 
seconded  by  the  advice  not  only  of  Norfolk,  Arundel,  and  Paget,  but  also 
of  Gardiner,  whose  years,  wisdom,  and  the  persecution  he  had  endured 
for  Catholicism  had  given  hiin   the  greatest  possible  authority  in  her 
opinion.     Gardiner,  at  the  same  time,  strongly  and  wisely  dissuaded  the 
queen  from  further  proceeding  in  her  enterprise  of  making  innovations  in 
religion.     He  well  observed  that  an  alliance  with  Spain  was  already  more 
than  sufficiently  unpopular;  that  the  parliament,  amidst  all  its  complais- 
ance and  evident  desire  to  make  all  reasonable  concessions  to  the  personal 
wishes  and  feelings  of  the  sovereign,  nevertheless  had  lately  shown  strong 
jnwillingness  to  make  any  further  concessions  to  Rome.     He  argued,  too", 
that  whereas  any  precipitate  measures  in  religion  just  at  that  time  would 
greatly,  perhaps  even  fatally,  increase  the  popular  prejudice  against  liic 
Spanish  alliance,  that  alliance  when  once  brought  about  would,  (ujntraii- 
wise,  enable  the  queen,  unresisted,  to  work  her  own  will  in  the  other  and 
far  more  important  measure.     To  the  emperor,  Gardiner  transmitted  tiie 
same  reasonings,  with  the  additionak  hint  that  it  was  necessary  that. 
ostensibly  or  temporarily  at  least,  thp  terms  and  conditions  of  the  niar- 
riage  should  be  such  as  to  secure  thife  favour  of  the  Knglish  populace,  hy 
appearing  even  more  than  fairly  favourable  to  English  interests.    Th« 
emperor,  who  had  a  high  opinion  of  Gardiner's  sagacity  and  judgi.ient, 
not  only  asseitcd  to  all  that  he  advised,  but  Qven  enforced  his  advi  <;  as 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY, 


493 


10  religious  moderation,  at  least  for  that  time,  in  his  own  private  letters  to 
Mary."  He  even  went  still  further;  for  being  informed  that  Pole,  llie  sin- 
ceriiy  and  fervour  of  whose  religious  zeal  not  uiifreqiicntly  triumphed 
over  his  great  natural  humanity,  had  sent  Mary  advice  to  proceed  with 
riifour  against  open  heresy,  the  emperor  detained  Pole  at  the  town  of  Dil- 
IJMglien,  on  the  Danube,  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  England,  lest  his  pres- 
ence should  prevent  Mary  from  following  his  more  pacific  and  politic 
counsels. 

The  parliament  having  openly  expressed  a  dislike  of  Mary's  proposed 
marriage  with  a  son  ol  Spain,  was  dismissed,  and  Mary's  ministers  had 
orders  to  press  the  match  on  to  a  conclusion.  The  convocation,  which 
iiad  been  summoned  at  the  same  time  as  the  parliament,  was  not  contented 
with  a  general  profession  and  exhibition  of  its  attachment  to  the  new 
order  of  things  that  Mary  had  so  rapidly  introduced,  but  the  catholic  part 
of  it  boldly  volunteered  to  put  the  capital  article  between  them  and  the 
catholics,  transubstantiation,  into  dispute.  The  protestants  argued,  but 
could  rarely  be  heard,  through  the  clamour  raised  by  their  adversaries, 
who  finally,  being  the  majority,  complacently  voted  that  they  had  clearly 
and  decidedly  triumphed.  This  triumph — at  least  of  voices  and  numbers, 
if  not  of  fair  argument — so  elated  the  Romanists,  that  they  soon  after  re- 
newed the  dispute  at  Oxford,  and,  as  if  to  show  how  secure  they  held 
themselves  to  be  of  the  victory,  they  caused  Cranmer,  Latimer,  and  Rid- 
ley to  be  conveyed  thither  under  a  guard  to  take  their  parts  in  the  debate, 
which  ended,  as  may  be  anticipated,  in  the  complete  verbal  triumph  of  the 
catholics. 

A.  D.  1554. — The  complaisance  of  the  parliament,  and  the  formal  de- 
Iniies  on  religion  that  had  been  initiated  by  Romanist  members  of  con- 
vocation, were  merely  preclusive  to  still  further  and  more  sweeping  alter- 
iUions  in  religion,  which  were  made  in  defiance  of  all  that  the  emperor  and 
the  astute  Gardiner  could  urge  to  the  contrary.  It  is  true— and  the  fact 
confirms  what  we  have  more  than  once  said  as  to  the  wide  difference  be- 
tween the  apparent  and  the  real  number  of  protestants  existing  during  the 
two  previous  reigns — the  mere  connivance  of  government  had  in  most 
parts  of  England  sufficed  to  encourage  the  people  to  set  aside  the  refor- 
mation in  the  most  important  particulars.  Uut  after  the  dismissal  of  par- 
liament, the  new  regulations  of  Mary,  or  rather  her  new  enactments  of 
old  abuses,  were  everywhere,  openly,  and  by  formal  authority,  carried  into 
execution.  Mass  was  re-established,  three-fourths  of  the  clergymen,  be- 
ing attached  to  reformed  principles,  were  turned  out  of  their  livings,  and 
replaced  by  zealous  or  seemingly  zealous  Romanists,  and  marriage  was 
once  again  declared  to  be  incompatible  with  the  holding  of  any  sacred 
office.  The  oath  of  supremacy  was  enjoined  by  the  unrepealed  law  of 
Henry  VIII.,  but  it  was  an  instruction  to  a  commission  which  the  queen 
now  authorised  to  see  to  the  more  perfect  and  speedy  re-establishment  of 
mass  and  the  other  ancient  rites,  that  clergymen  should  strictly  be  pro 
hibited  from  taking  the  oath  of  supremacy  on  entering  benefices. 

VViiile  Mary  was  thus  busied  in  preparing  the  way  for  laying  her  king- 
dom once  more  at  the  feet  of  the  haughty  pontiffs  of  Rome,  the  discon- 
tents thus  caused  were  still  further  increased  by  the  fears,  some  well 
founded  and  some  vague,  but  no  less  powerful  on  that  account,  excited  in 
the  public  mind  on  account  of  the  Spanish  match.  On  the  part  of  the 
court,  in  compliance  with  the  sagacious  advice  of  Gardiner,  great  care 
was  taken  to  insert  nolliing  in  the  marriage  articles,  which  were  published, 
\liat  could  at  all  fairly  be  deemed  unfavourable  to  England. 

Thus  it  was  stipulated,  that  tliough  the  title  of  king  should  be  accorded 
10  Philip,  the  administration  should  be  entirely  in  the  queen;  that  no 
nITico  wliatever  in  the  kingdom  should  be  tenable  by  a  foreigner ;  that 
Knglish  laws,  customs  and  privileges  should  remain  unaltered  ;  that  the 


494 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


queen  should  not  be  taken  abroad  by  Philip  without  her  own  consent,  ror 
any  of  her  children  without  that  of  the  nobility ;  that  a  jointure  of  sixty 
thousand  pounds  should  be  securely  settled  upon  the  queen  ;  that  the  male 
issut,  if  any,  of  the  marriage  should  inherit  not  only  Kngland,  but  also 
Burg^undy  and  the  Low  Countries  in  any  case,  and  that  in  tlie  case  of  the 
death  of  Don  Carlos,  son  of  Philip,  such  male  issue  of  Philip  and  Mary 
should  also  inherit  Spain,  Sicily,  Milan,  and  all  the  other  domiiv.ons  uf 
Philip. 

Every  day's  experience  serves  to  show  that  it  ■«  quite  possible  to  carry 
policy  too  far,  and  to  cause  the  sincerity  of  concession  to  be  suspected 
from  its  very  excess.  If  we  may  suppose  that  men  so  sagacious  as  the 
emperor  and  Gardiner  were  rendered  by  their  anxiety  temporarily  for- 
getful  of  this  truth,  the  public  murmuring  very  speedily  reminded  them  of 
it.  The  people,  with  that  intuitive  sagacity  which  seems  the  special  pro- 
vision  for  the  safety  of  the  unlettered  midtilude,  analogous  to  the  instinct 
of  the  lower  animals,  exclaimed  that  the  emperor,  in  his  greedy  and  tyran- 
nous anxiety  to  obtain  possession  of  so  rich  yet  hated  a  country  as  here- 
tical England,  would  doubtless  accede  to  any  terms.  As  a  papist  and  a 
Spaniard  he  would  promise  anything  now,  with  the  full  determination  of 
revoking  everything  the  moment  he  should  have  concluded  the  desired 
match  ;  and  the  more  favourable,  argued  the  people,  the  terms  now  pub- 
lished  were  to  England,  the  greater  the  probability  that  the  emperor  and 
his  son  would  revoke  them  at  the  very  first  opportunity,  if,  indeed,  they 
were  not  already  provided  with  secret  articles  authorizing  them  to  do  so. 
To  the  fraud  and  ambition  of  the  emperor  the  popular  report  Siiid  that 
Philip  added  suUenness,  haughtiness,  cruelty,  and  a  domineering  disposi- 
tion  peculiarly  his  own.  That  the  death  of  the  emperor  would  put  Philip 
in  possession  of  his  father's  dominions  was  clear;  the  people  assumed  it 
to  be  equally  so  that  England  would  from  that  moment  become  a  mere 
province  of  Spain ;  that  Englishmen  equally  with  the  other  subjects  0/ 
Spain  would  then  be  subjected  to  all  the  tender  mercies  of  the  inquisition, 
and  that  the  Spanish  alliance  and  the  complete  ruin  of  England  and  en- 
slaving of  all  Englishmen  were  but  different  terms  and  formula  in  which 
to  enunciate  the  same  thing. 

To  a  people  already  discontented,  as  the  protestants  of  England  were, 
with  the  recent  and  sudden  changes  made  in  religious  affairs,  such  argu- 
ments as  these  could  not  be  addressed  with  any  art  or  industry  without 
being  productive  of  great  effect.  Every  day  increased  the  general  dislike 
of  the  people  to  the  Spanish  match.  The  more  prudent  among  even  those 
who  in  principle  were  the  most  deeply  and  sincerely  opposed  to  the  con 
templated  marriage,  did  not,  indeed,  see  that  the  mere  anticipation  of  evil 
to  come,  and  an  anticipation,  too,  which  was  quite  opposed  to  the  avowed 
purposes  of  the  emperor  and  Philip,  could  warrant  an  open  resistance. 
But  the  reasonable  and  the  just  are  seldom  the  majority  where  either  the 
feelings  or  the  interests  of  mankind  are  very  much  aroused  and  appealed 
to;  and  a  few  men  of  some  note  were  soon  found  to  place  themselves  at 
the  head  of  the  discontented,  with  the  avowed  intention  of  appealing  to 
arms  rather  than  allowing  themselves  to  become  the  bond-slaves  of  the 
Spaniard.  Had  France  at  this  critical  juncture  taken  advantage  of  Mary's 
difficulties  and  want  of  popularity,  it  is  very  probable  that  her  reign  would 
have  ended  here,  and  that  her  memory  would  have  been  saved  from  ti'e 
indelible  stains  of  much  and  loathsome  cruelty.  But  the  king  of  France, 
though  at  war  with  Philip,  would  lend  no  aid  to  an  English  insurrection, 
Perhaps  he  felt  that  Mary,  aided  as  she  was  certain  to  be  by  Spain,  would 
aurely  put  down  any  attempts  at  insurrection,  in  which  case  she,  of  course, 
would  aid  the  emperor  against  France ;  and  to  this  motive  we  may  not 
unreasonably  be  supposed  to  have  added  that  feeling  for  the  rights  of  sov- 
ereiffnty  over  subiects,  which  even  the  hostility  of  sovereigns  can  rarek 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


4M 


banish  from  their  heai  is.  From  whatever  motives,  however,  the  king  of 
France  did  refuse  to  aid  the  English  in  their  proposed  resistance  to  theii 
sovereign's  alliance  with  Philip  of  Spain.  But  this  did  not  damp  the  en. 
thusiasm  of  the  leading  opponents  of  the  Spanish  alliance.  Sir  Thomas 
Wyatt  offered  to  raise  and  head  the  malcontents  of  Kent,  and  Sir  Peter 
Carew  those  of  Devonshire ;  and  they  persuaded  the  duke  of  Suffolk  to 
raise  the  midland  counties,  by  assuring  him  that  their  chief  object  was  to 
re-invcst  the  lady  .lane  with  the  crown.  A  time  was  fixed  for  the  simul- 
taneous action  of  these  leaders ;  and  had  the  compact  been  punctually 
kept,  it  is  more  than  probable  that  the  enterprise  would  have  been  fully 
successful.  But  Sir  Peter  Carew,  in  his  exceeding  eagerness,  rose  before 
the  appointed  time,  and  being,  in  consequence,  unsupported  by  Wyatt  and 
the  duke  of  Suffolk,  was  beaten  at  the  first  onset  by  the  earl  of  Bedford, 
and  with  difficulty  made  his  escape  to  France.  Suffolk,  on  hearing  of 
Carew's  failure  and  flight,  left  town,  accompanied  by  his  brothers.  Lord 
Thomas  and  Sir  Leonard  Gray,  and  proceeded  to  the  counties  of  Warwick 
and  Leicester,  where  his  chief  influence  lay.  But  he  was  hotly  pursued 
by  a  party  of  horse  under  the  earl  of  Huntingdon,  and  being  overtaken 
before  he  could  raise  sufficient  force  for  resistance,  was  obliged  to  dis- 
perse his  few  followers  and  conceal  himself.  Accident  or  treachery  soon 
discovered  his  hiding  place,  and  he  was  sent  under  an  escort  to  London. 
Wyatt,  in  the  meantime,  raised  the  standard  of  revolt  at  Maidstone,  in 
Kent,  where  he  issued  a  passionate  proclainacion,  inviting  the  people  to 
aid  him  in  removing  evil  councillors  from  about  the  queen,  anc*  to  prevent 
the  ruin  of  the  nation  which  must  needs  follow  the  completion  of  the 
Spanish  match.  Great  numbers  of  persons  joined  him,  and  among  them 
some  catholics,  as  he  had  dexterously  omitted  from  his  proclamation  all 
nientiou  of  religion.  The  duke  of  Norfolk,  at  the  head  of  the  queen's 
guards  and  some  other  troops,  reinforced  by  five  hundred  Londoners  un- 
der the  command  of  Brett,  marched  against  the  revolted  and  came  up 
with  them  at  Rochester.  Here  Sir  George  Harper,  who  had  been  with 
Wyatt,  pretended  to  desert  to  the  duke,  but  quickly  returned  to  Wyatt, 
carrying  with  him  Brett  and  his  Londoners,  upon  whom  Sir  George's 
eloquence  so  wrought,  that  chey  professed  their  preference  of  death  to 
aiding  in  the  enslavement  of  their  country.  Norfolk,  fearing  that  this 
desertion  might  mislead  the  rest  of  his  force,  now  retreated,  and  Wyatt 
inarched  to  Southwark,  whence  he  sent  to  demand  that  the  Tower  should 
be  placed  in  his  hands,  that  the  queeii  should  free  the  nation  from  all  ter- 
ror of  Spanish  tyranny  by  marrying  an  Englishman,  and  that  four  coun- 
cillors should  forthwith  be  placed  in  his  hands  as  hostages  for  the  per- 
formance of  these  conditions. 

While  Wyatt  was  wasting  his  time  in  sending  this  demand  and  await- 
ing a  reply,  Norfolk  had  secured  London  bridge,  and  had  taken  efieciual 
r>teps  to  overawe  the  Londoners  and  prevent  them  from  joining  Wyatt. 
Perceiving  his  error  when  too  late,  Wyatt  marched  to  Kingston,  where 
he  crossed  the  river,  and  made  his  way  unresisted  into  Westminster. 
Here,  however,  his  followers  rapidly  deserted  him,  and  he  was  encoun- 
tered and  seized  in  the  Strand,  near  Temple-bar,  by  Sir  Maurice  Berke- 
ley.  Vast  numbers  of  the  deluded  countrymen  were  at  the  same  time 
seized,  and  as  the  queen's  rage  was  proportioned  to  the  fear  and  peril  to 
which  she  had  been  subjected,  the  executions  that  followed  were  very 
nuirierous.  It  is  said  that  not  less  than  four  hundred  of  the  captured 
wretches  were  put  to  death  in  cold  blood  ;  four  hundred  more  were  con- 
demned, hut  being  led  before  the  queen  with  halters  on  their  necks,  they 
knelt  to  her  and  implored  her  grace,  which  was  granted.  Wyatt,  the 
prime  mover  of  this  revolt,  was  executed,  as  a  matter  of  course.  On  the 
scafl'old  he  took  care  to  exonerate,  in  the  most  unequivocal  terms,  from 
all  participation  or  even  knowledge  of  his  proceedings  the  lady  Elizabeth 


496 


THE  TKEASUEYOF  HISTOEY. 


and  the  earl  jt  Devon,  whom  Mary's  jealous  hatred  had  endeavoured  to 
connect  with  this  ill-starred  and  ill-managed  revolt.  They  were  both 
seized  and  sirictly  examined  by  the  council,  but  Wyatt's  manly  and  pre. 
cise  declaration  defeated  whatever  intent  there  might  have  been  to  em- 
ploy false  witnesses  to  connect  them  with  his  rash  proceedings.  But 
i hough  Mary  was  thus  prevented  from  proceeding  to  the  last  extremity 
against  them,  she  sent  Elizabeth  under  strict  surveillance  to  Woodstock, 
and  the  earl  of  Devon  to  Fotheringay  castle.  To  Elizabeth,  indeed,  im. 
mediate  release  was  offered,  on  condition  of  her  accepting  the  hand  of  the 
duke  of  Savoy,  and  thus  relieving  her  sister  from  her  presence  in  the 
kingdom  ;  but  Elizabeth  knew  how  to  "  bide  her  time,"  and  she  quietly, 
but  positively,  refused  the  proffered  alliance. 

All  this  lime  Lord  Guildford  Dudley  and  the  lady  Jane  had  remained  im- 
prisoned, but  unmolested  and  unnoticed.  The  time  which  had  elapsed 
without  any  proceedings  being  taken  against  them,  beyond  their  mere 
confinement,  led  every  one  to  suppose  that  their  youth,  and  the  obvious 
restraint  under  which  they  had  acted,  had  determined  Mary  not  to  punish 
them  beyond  imprisonment,  and  that  slie  would  terminate  even  that  when 
she  safely  could  do  so.  But  the  imprudent,  nay,  the  situation  of  his 
daughter  and  her  husband  being  considered,  the  wicked  connection  of  the 
duke  of  Suffolk  with  Wyatt's  revolt,  aroused  in  Mary  that  suspicion 
which  was  no  less  fatal  to  its  objects  than  her  bigotry.  Jane  now  anew 
appeared  to  her  in  the  character  of  a  competitor  for  the  throne.  That 
she  was  not  wilfully  so,  that  she  was  so  closely  confined  that  she  could 
not  by  any  possibility  correspond  with  the  disaffected,  were  arguments 
to  which  Mary  attached  no  importance.  To  her  it  was  enough  that  this 
innocent  creature,  even  now  a  mere  girl  and  wishing  for  nothing  so  much 
as  the  quiet  and  studious  moral  life  in  which  her  earlier  girlhood  had  been 
passed,  might  possibly  be  made  the  pretext  for  future  revolt.  The  Lord 
Guildford  Dudley  and  Lady  Jane  were,  consequently,  warned  that  the  day 
was  fixed  for  their  execution.  Subseqviently  the  queen  bestowed  the  cruel 
mercy  of  a  reprieve  for  three  days,  on  the  plea  that  she  did  not  wish, 
while  inflicting  bodily  death  on  Jane,  to  peril  her  eternal  salvation.  The 
unhappy  lady  was,  therefore,  during  the  short  remnant  of  her  life  impor- 
tuned and  annoyed  by  catholic  priests,  who  were  sent  by  the  queen  to  en- 
deavour to  convert  her  to  their  faith.  But  she  skilfully  and  coolly  used 
all  the  arguments  then  in  use  to  defend  the  reformed  faith,  and  even  wrote 
a  Greek  letter  to  her  sister,  adjuring  her  to  persevere  in  the  true  faith, 
whatever  perils  might  environ  her. 

It  was  at  first  intended  to  behead  both  the  prisoners  at  the  same  time 
and  on  the  same  scaffold.  On  reflection,  motives  of  policy  caused  the 
queen  to  alter  this  determination ;  and  it  was  ordered  that  Lord  Guildford 
should  first  be  executed  on  Tower-hill,  and  the  lady  Jane  shortly  after- 
wards within  the  precincts  of  the  Tower,  where  she  was  confined. 

On  the  morning  appointed  for  this  double  murder.  Lord  Guildford  sent  to 
his  young  and  unfortunate  wife,  and  requested  an  interview  to  take  an 
earthly  farewell ;  but  Jane  with  a  more  masculine  and  self-possessed  pru- 
dence, declined  it,  on  the  ground  that  their  approaching  fate  required  the 
full  attention  of  each,  and  that  their  brief  and  bloody  separation  on  earth 
would  be  followed  by  an  eternal  union.  From  her  prison  window  the 
lady  Jane  saw  her  youthful  husband  led  out  to  execution,  and  shortly  s'f- 
terwards  saw  his  headless  body  brought  back  in  a  common  cart.  Even 
this  sad  spectacle,  instead  of  shaking  her  firmness,  did  but  the  more  con- 
firm and  strengthen  a  constancy  which  was  founded  not  upon  mere  con- 
stitution, but  upon  long,  serious,  and  healthy  study. 

Her  own  dread  hour  had  at  length  arrived,  and  Sir  John  Sago,  the  con- 
stiibh'  of  the  Tower,  on  summoning  her  to  the  scaffold,  begged  her  to  be- 
Ktuw  some  gift  upon  hiin  which  he  might  keep  as  a  perpetual  memorial  of 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


4m 


her.  Sho'  gave  him  her  tablets  in  which,  on  seeing  the  dead  body  of  her 
husband,  she  had  written  a  sentence  in  Greek,  Latin,  and  l!]ngli.sh,  to  tho 
eiTect  that  tiiough  human  justice  was  against  her  husband's  body,  the  di. 
vine  mercy  would  be  favourable  to  his  soul ;  that,  for  herself,  if  her  fault 
dftserved  punishment,  her  youth,  at  least,  and  her  imprudence,  were  wor- 
thy of  excuse,  and  that  she  trusted  for  favour  to  God  and  to  posterity. 

On  the  scaffold  she  blamed  herself  not  for  ever  having  wished  f»)r  tho 
crown,  but  for  not  having  firmly  refused  to  act  upon  the  wishes  of  others 
in  reaching  at  it.  She  confessed  herself  worthy  of  death,  and  being  dis- 
robed by  her  female  attendants,  cahnly  and  unshrinkingly  submitted  her- 
self to  her  fatal  doom. 

The  duke  of  Suffolk  and  Lord  Thomas  Gray  were  shortly  afterwards 
executed  for  their  share  in  Wyatt's  revolt.  Sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton 
was  tried  in  Guildhall  for  the  same  offenie,  but  there  being  little  or  no 
evidence  against  him,  his  eloquent  and  acute  defence  led  the  jury  to  acquit 
him.  With  an  arbitrary  and  insolent  stretch  of  prerogative  that  now 
seems  almost  incredible,  Mary,  enraged  at  the  acquittal,  not  only  recom- 
mitted Sir  Nicholas  to  the  Tower,  where  she  kept  him  for  a  considerable 
time,  but  she  even  had  the  jury  sent  to  prison,  and  fined  from  one  to  two 
thousand  pounds  each  !  The  end  she  had  in  view  in  this  abominably  ty- 
rannous conduct,  however,  was  fully  achieved.  Thenceforth  jurors  were 
little  prone  to  acquit  the  unhappy  gentlemen  who,  no  matter  how  loosely, 
were  charged  with  participation  in  the  affair  of  Wyait.  Many  were  con- 
demned merely  in  consequence  of  the  terrors  of  their  jurors,  and  among 
them  was  Sir  John  Throgmorton,  brother  to  Sir  Nicholas.  Arrests  look 
place  every  day,  the  Tower  and  other  places  of  confinement  were  filled 
with  nol)les  and  gentlemen,  whose  offence  was  that  they  chanced  to  be 
popular ;  the  affection  of  the  people  being  a  deadly  offence  to  the  queen, 
who  felt  that  she  was  loathed  by  them,  and  who  felt  so  little  secure 
against  a  new  out-break,  that  she  sent  out  commissioners  to  disarm  them, 
and  lay  up  the  seized  arms  in  her  strong-holds. 

In  the  midst  of  this  gloomy  state  of  things,  the  parliament  was  called 
upon  to  invest  the  queen  with  the  power  which  had  formerly  been  granted 
to  her  father,  of  disposing  of  the  crown  at  her  decease.  Gardiner  took 
care  to  dwell  upon  the  precedent  afforded  by  the  power  given  to  Henry 
VIII.,  and  he  had  little  fear  of  success,  because,  independent  of  the  gen- 
eral terror  caused  by  the  queen's  merciless  and  sanguinary  proceedings, 
the  good-will  of  numerous  members  of  parliament  had  been  purchased  by 
the  distribution  of  four  hundred  thousand  crowns,  which  the  emperor  had 
sent  over  for  that  purpose. 

But  neither  terror  nor  purchased  complaisance  could  blind  the  house  to 
the  facts,  that  the  queen  detested  Elizabeth,  and  that  the  legiliniaey  of  the 
queen  must  imply  the  bastardy  of  Elizabeth.  The  manner,  too,  in  which 
Gardiner  in  the  course  of  his  speech  avoided  mentioning  Elizabeth,  ex- 
cepting merely  as  "the  lady  Elizabeth,"  and  without  styling  her  the  queen's 
sister,  confirmed  the  suspicion  that,  once  invested  with  the  power  which 
she  now  claimed,  the  queen  would  declare  Elizabeth  illegitimate,  and  by 
making  a  will  bequeathing  the  throne  to  Philip,  hand  over  the  nation  to 
all  that  Spanish  tyranny  of  which  such  terrible  anticipations  had  been  and 
still  were  entertained. 

As  if  to  stiengthen  all  other  grounds  of  suspicion  of  Mary's  intention* 
the  hirelings  and  parasites  of  Philip  were  just  now,  as  zealously  as  impru- 
dently, busy  in  dwelling  upon  Philip's  descent  from  the  house  of  Lancas- 
ter, and  representing  him — taking  Elizabeth's  bastardy  as  a  matter  of 
course— as  the  next  heir  to  Mary  by  right  of  descent. 

Great,  then,  as,  from  fear  or  favour,  was  the  desire  of  the  whole  parlia 
Pit  lit  to  gratify  the  queen,  the  determination  not  to  throw  the  nation  bound 
iiiid  bliiulfolded  into  the  hands  of  the  Spaniard  was  still  greater.     Thev 
Vol.  L— 3^ 


498 


THE  TRKASUHY  OF  HISTORY. 


not  only  refused  to  pass  the  bill  to  give  iMary  the  power  to  will  away  the 
ihroiie,  but  when  another  bill  was  introduced  to  make  it  treasonable  to 
imaginn  or  attempt  the  death  of  the  queen's  husband  while  she  lived,  they 
coolly  laid  it  aside ;  and  that  Philip  might  not  be  led  to  complete  the  mar 
riage  by  any  lingering  hope  of  possessing  any  authority  in  the  nation 
which  was  unhappy  enough  to  have  Mary  for  its  queen,  the  house  pasued 
a  law  enacting,  "That  her  majesty,  as  their  only  queen,  should  solely  and 
as  a  sole  queen  enjoy  the  crown  and  sovereignty  of  her  realms,  with  all 
the  pre-eminences,  (lignities,  and  rights  thereto  belonging,  in  as  large  and 
ample  a  manner  after  her  marriage  as  before,  without  any  title  or  claim 
accruing  to  the  prince  of  Spain,  either  as  tenant  by  courtesy  of  the  realm 
or  by  any  oflier  means." 

Having  thus,  as  far  as  was  in  their  power,  limited  and  discouraged  the 
dangerous  ambition  of  th'>  cruel  and  bigoted  Philip,  the  parliament  passed 
the  ratification  of  the  a'licles  of  marriage,  which,  indeed,  were  drawn  so 
favourably  to  England,  that  no  reasonable  objection  could  have  been  made 
to  them. 

As  nothing  more  could  be  extorted  or  bribed  from  parliament  with  re- 
spect to  the  queen's  marriage,  its  attention  was  now  directed  to  matters 
connected  with  religion.  The  bishopric  of  Durham,  which  had  been  di- 
vided  in  the  reign  of  Edward,  and  which  by  an  arbitrary  edict  of  the  queen 
had  already  been  re-conferred  upon  Tonstal,  was  now  re-erected  by  act 
of  parliament.  Some  bills  were  also  introduced  for  revising  the  laws 
against  Lollardy,  erroneous  preaching,  and  heresy  in  general,  and  for  the 
suppression  of  books  containing  heterodox  opinions.  But  here  again,  to 
its  credit,  tl>e  parliament  was  both  discriminating  and  firm  ;  thebilTs  were 
tlirown  out;  and  the  queen  perceiving  that  neither  Philip's  gold  nor  the 
terrors  of  her  more  sanguinary  conduct  could  make  this  parliament,  at 
least,  sufficiently  pliant  and  slavish  for  her  purposes,  she  suddenly  and 
sullenly  dissolved  it. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE    REION   OP    MARY  (CONTINUED). 

Mary's  age,  and  some  consciousness,  perhaps,  of  the  addition  made  by 
her  fearful  temper  to  the  natural  homeliness  of  her  features,  had  tended  to 
make  the  acquisition  of  a  young  and  illustrious  husband  all  the  more 
eagerly  desired,  for  its  very  improbability;  and  though  she  had  seen  only 
the  portrait  of  her  future  husband,  she  had  contrived  to  become  so  enam- 
oured of  him,  that  when  the  preliminaries  of  the  marriage  were  all  arranged, 
and  the  arrival  of  the  prince  was  hourly  expected,  every  delay  and  every 
obstacle  irritated  her  almost  to  phrenzy.  Though  as  a  matter  of  ambition 
Philip  was  very  desirous  of  the  match,  as  a  simple  matter  of  love,  he  was, 
at  the  very  least,  indifferent;  and  even  the  proverbial  hauteur  and  solem- 
nity of  the  Spanish  character  could  not  sufficiency  account  for  tha  cold 
neglect  which  caused  him  to  forbear  from  even  fa  'ouring  his  future  wife 
and  queen  with  a  letter,  to  account  for  delays  which,  in  spite  of  her  doting 
fondness,  Mary  could  not  but  believe  that  the  prince  might  easily  have 
put  an  end  to  had  his  impatience  been  at  all  equal  to  her  own.  From 
blaming  Philip,  the  impatient  fondness  so  rare  as  well  as  so  unbecoming 
at  her  advanced  period  of  life,  caused  her  to  turn  her  resentment  against 
her  subjects,  to  whose  opposition  she  chose  to  impute  that  indifference  on 
the  part  of  the  prince,  which  really  arose  from  dislike  of  her  repulsive  and 
prematurely  aged  person.  A  circumstance  now  occurred  which  greatly 
increased  the  queen's  anger  against  her  subjects,  and  which  probably,  in 
80  suUea  and  resentful  a  nature  as  hers,  did  much  to  fan  into  a  flame  that 


TIIR  TIIRASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


499 


)ecoming 
against 

rpiice  on 
sive  and 
greatly 

)bHbly,  in 

ame  that 


nercc  bigotry  which  subsequently  lighted  the  fires  of  persecution  in  every 
county  in  England,  and  left  scarcely  ;i  village  without  its  martyr  and  its 
mourning.  A  squadron  had  been  fitted  out,  and  the  command  was  given 
10  Lord  Kffingham,  to  convoy  the  prince  to  England;  but  so  unpopular 
was  the  service,  and  such  strong  symptoms  appeared  of  a  determined 
spirit  of  mutiny  among  the  sailors,  that  Lord  Emngham  frankly  informed 
the  queen  that  he  did  not  think  the  prince  would  be  safe  in  their  hands, 
and  the  squadron  was  at  once  disbanded.  But  this  measure,  though  in- 
dispensably necessary  under  the  circumstances,  brouglit  no  peace  to  the 
mind  of  the  queen,  for  she  now  dreaded  not  merely  the  inevitable  dangers 
of  the  sea,  but  also  that  her  husband  should  be  intercepted  by  the  French 
fleet.  The  slightest  rumour  so  heightened  her  self-tortunne,  that  she 
was  frequently  thrown  into  convulsions ;  and  not  merely  was  ner  bodily 
health  affected  in  the  most  injurious  degree,  but  even  her  mind  began  lo 
he  affected  to  a  very  perceptible  extent.  Hypochondriac  and  pitiably 
nervous,  she  became  painfully  conscious  of  her  want  of  beauty  ;  though, 
with  the  usual  self-flattery,  she  ascribed  the  repulsive  aspect  presented  to 
her  by  her  unflattering  mirror  wholly  to  her  recent  sufferings.  From  be- 
ing frantically  impatient  for  the  arrival  of  Philip,  the  unhappy  queen  now 
became  desponding,  and  dreaded  lest  on  his  arrival  he  should  And  her  dis- 
pleasing. 

At  length  the  object  of  so  many  hopes  and  fears  arrived  ;  the  marriage 
was  publicly  and  with  great  pomp  performed  at  Winchester;  and  when 
Philip  had  made  a  public  entry  into  London,  and  dazzled  the  eyes  of  the 
gazers  with  the  immense  riches  he  had  brought  over,  Mary  hurried  him 
away  to  the  comparative  seclusion  of  Windsor.  This  seclusion  admirably 
suited  the  prince,  whose  behaviour,  from  the  day  of  his  arrival,  was  as 
well  calculated  as  though  it  had  been  purposely  intended,  to  confirm  all 
the  unfavourable  opinions  that  had  been  formed  of  him.  In  his  manner 
he  was  distant,  not  with  shyness  but  with  overweening  disdain  ;  and  the 
bravest  and  wisest  of  the  oldest  nobility  of  England  had  the  mortification 
10  see  him  pass  them  without  manifesting  by  glance,  word,  or  gesture, 
that  he  was  conRcious  of  their  respect,  salutations,  or  even  their  presence. 
The  unavoidably  wearisome  etiquette  of  court  was  now  so  much  increased 
by  Spanish  formalities,  that  both  Philip  and  Mary  may  almost  be  said  to 
have  been  inaccessible.  This  circumstance,  however  disgusting  to  sub- 
jects, waa  in  the  highest  degree  pleasing  to  the  queen  :  having  at  length 
possessed  heraelf  of  her  husband,  she  was  unwilling  that  any  one  should 
share  his  company  with  her  for  a  moment.  More  like  a  love-sick  girl 
than  a  hi'.rd-teatured  and  hard-hearted  woman  of  forty,  she  could  not  bear 
the  printc  to  be  out  of  her  sight ;  his  shortest  absence  annoyed  her,  and 
if  he  showed  the  commonest  courtesy  to  any  of  the  court  ladies,  her 
jeftlovi?y  was  instantly  shown  to  him,  and  her  resentment  to  the  fair  who 
had  bef.M  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  honoured  with  his  civility. 

The  v/omanly  observation  of  Mary  soon  convinced  her  that  the  only 
way  to  Philip's  heart  was  to  gratify  his  ambition  ;  and  she  was  abundantly 
ready  to  purchase  his  love,  or  the  semblance  of  it,  even  at  the  price  of  the 
V)tal  sacrifice  of  the  liberties  and  interests  of  the  whole  English  people. 
By  means  of  Gardiner  she  used  both  fear  and  hope,  both  power  and  gold, 
(0  get  members  returned  in  her  entire  interests  to  a  new  parliament  which 
she  now  summoned;  and  the  returns  were  such  as  to  promise  that,  in  the 
iixisting  temper  of  the  iiation,  which  had  not  yet  forgotten  the  sanguinary 
punishment  of  the  revolt  under  Wyatt,  she  might  safely  make  her  next 
great  onward  movement  towards  the  entire  restoration  of  Catholicism  and 
the  establishment  of  her  own  absolute  power. 

Cardinal  Pole,  who  was  now  in  Flanders,  invested  with  the  ofl^ce  of 
lecatp,  only  awaited  the  removal  of  the  attainder  passed  against  him  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  VIH.    The  parliament  readily  passed  an  act  for  that 


500 


THE  TRKASUttY  OP  HISTORY. 


purpose,  and  the  legate  immediately  came  to  England,  when,  after  wait- 
ing on  Philip  and  ^Iilry,  he  presented  himself  to  parliament,  and  formiilly 
invited  the  English  nation  to  renoacile  itself  to  the  holy  see  from  which, 
said  the  legate,  it  had  been  so  long  and  so  unhappily  separated. 
The  well-trained  parliament  readily  acknowledged  and  professed  to  de- 

Klore  the  defection  of  England,  and  presented  an  address  to  Philip  and 
lary,  entreating  them,  as  being  uninfected  by  the  general  guilt,  to  inter* 
cede  with  the  holy  father  for  their  forgiveness,  and  at  the  same  time  de- 
clared their  intention  to  repeal  all  laws  that  were  prejudicial  to'  the  church 
of  Rome.  The  legate  readily  gave  absolution  to  the  parliament  and  peo- 
ple of  England,  and  received  them  into  the  communion  of  Rome ;  and 
Pope  Julius  III.,  with  grave  and  bitter  mockery,  observed,  when  the  formal 
thanks  of  the  nation  were  conveyed  to  him,  that  the  English  had  a  strange 
notion  of  thiPkgs  thus  to  thank  him  for  doing  what  he  ought,  in  fact,  to 
thank  them  for  letting  him  do. 

It  must  not  l;e  supposed  that  though  the  nobility  and  gentry  in  parlia 
ment  assembled  thus  readily  and  crouohingly  laid  England  once  again  ;it 
the  feet  of  the  Roman  pontiff,  that  they  were  prepared  fully  to  undo  nil 
that  Henry  had  (Jone.  Indifferent  as  to  the  mode  of  faith  prescribed  to 
the  multitude,  they  had  not  an  objection  to  make  this  sudden  and  sweep- 
ing re-transfer  of  the  spiritual  authority  over  England.  But  before  they 
would  consent  to  that  transfer  of  spiritual  authority,  they  obtained  from 
Rome,  as  well  as  from  the  queen,  the  most  positive  assurances  that  the 
church  property,  snatched  from  the  church  and  divided  among  laymen  by 
Henry,  should  not  be  interfered  with,  but  should  remain  undisturbed  in  the 
hands  of  its  lay  possessors.  The  parliament,  also,  in  the  very  act  by 
which  it  restored  the  pope's  spiritual  authority,  enacted  that  all  marriages 
contracted  during  the  English  separation  from  Rome  should  remain  valid, 
and  also  inserted  a  clause  which  secured  all  holders  of  church  lands  ii 
their  possessions  ;  and  the  convocation  presented  a  petition  to  the  pope  to 
the  same  effect,  to  which  petition  the  legale  gave  an  affirmative  answer. 
Bigoted  and  arbitrary  as  Mary  confessedly  was,  it  appeared  that  she  could 
not  fully  restore,  even  temporarily,  the  power  of  Rome. 

The  sentence  had  irrevocably  gone  forth  against  that  grasping  and  greedy 
despotism  ;  and  though  the  accidental  occurrence  of  a  fiercely  and  coldly 
cruel  bigot,  in  the  person  of  Mary,  being  seated  upon  the  throne  gave  back 
for  a  time  to  Rome  the  spiritual  jurisdiction,  and  the  power  to  dictate  and 
tyrannize  in  spiritual  affairs,  all  the  power  and  zeal  of  that  bigot  could  not 
re-possess  the  church  of  the  lands  which  had  become  lay  property.  In 
the  first  instance,  indeed,  Rome  hoped,  by  forgiving  the  past  fruits  of  the 
the  lands,  to  be  able  to  resume  the  lands  for  the  future  ;  but  when  Pole 
arrived  in  England  he  received  information,  amply  confirmed  by  his  own 
observations,  which  induced  him  without  further  struggle  to  agree  to  the 
formal  and  complete  settlement  of  the  lands,  of  which  we  have  above 
given  an  account. 

Perhaps  no  greater  misfortune  could  have  occurred  to  England  than 
this  very  cession  in  form,  by  the  pope,  of  the  right  of  the  laity  to  the 
lands  of  which  they  had  possessed  themselves  at  the  expense  of  the  church. 
Had  Rome  attempted  to  resume  the  solid  property,  as  well  ast'ie  spiritual 
rights,  of  the  church,  considerations  of  interest  in  the  former  would  have 
caused  the  nobility  and  gentry  to  hesitate  about  surrendering  the  latter; 
but  having  secured  their  own  property,  the  great  were  easily  induced  '.n 
hand  over  the  bulk  of  the  people  to  a  spiritual  tyranny  which  they  flat- 
tered  themselves  that  they  would  not  suffer  from.  The  vile  old  laws 
against  heresy,  which  the  former  parliament  had  honestly  and  indignantly 
rejected,  were  now  re-enacted  ;  statutes  were  passed  for  punishing  sedi 
tious  rumours,"  and  it  was  made  treason  to  imagine  or  to  attempt  the  lifi' 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


SOI 


)f  Pliilip  during  that  of  the  queen,  which,  also,  the  furmer  parliampnt  had 
refused. 

But,  amidst  iill  this  disgusting  sycophanry,  even  this  complaisant  par- 
liaiiient  had  still  some  English  sense  of  reserve,  and  resisted  every  at- 
**inpt  of  the  queen  to  get  Fier  husband  declared  presumptive  heir  to  the 
crown,  entrusted  with  the  administration,  or  even  honoured  with  a  corona- 
tion. The  same  anti-Spanish  feeling  which  caused  the  firmness  of  parlia- 
m«nt  on  those  points,  also  cHUsed  it  (o  refuse  iiU  subsidy  in  support  of  tho 
emperor,  in  the  war  wh'''  'ie  was  still  carrying  on  against  F'rancc.  These 
very  plain  indicati(ms  ot  the  feelings  of  the  nation  towards  himself  per- 
sonally caused  Philip,  not  indeed  to  lay  aside  his  morose  and  impolitic 
hauteur,  for  that  was  part  and  parcel  of  his  nature,  and  as  inseparable 
from  liis  existence  as  the  mere  act  of  breathing,  but  to  endeavour  to  di- 
minish his  unpopularity  by  procuring  the  release  of  several  distinguished 
prisoners,  confined  either  for  actual  offence  against  the  court,  or  for  the 
yuflii  offence  of  being  agreeable  to  the  people.  The  most  illustrious  of 
these  prisoners  was  the  lady  Elizabetli ;  and  nothing  that  Philip  could 
have  done  could  have  been  more  pleasing  to  the  nation  than  his  releasing 
that  princess,  and  protecting  her  from  the  petty  but  no  less  annoying  spite- 
fulness  of  her  sister. 

About  the  same  time,  Philip's  politic  intervention  also  gave  liberty  to 
the  lord  Henry  Dudley,  Sir  George  Harper,  Sir  Nicholas  Throgmorton, 
Sir  Edmund  Warner,  Sir  William  St.  Loe,  and  Sir  Nicholas  Arnold,  to- 
gether with  Harrington  and  Tiemaine.  The  earl  of  Devonshire  also  was 
released  from  Fotheringay  castle,  and  allowed  to  go  abroad,  but  he  only 
reached  Padua  when  he  was  poisoned,  and  the  popular  rumour  and  belief 
ascribed  the  murder  to  the  Imperialists. 

Baffled  in  her  endeavours  to  get  her  husband  declared  her  heir  presump- 
tive, the  queen  became  more  than  ever  anxious  for  the  honours  of  mater« 
nily,  of  the  approach  of  which  she  at  length  imagined  that  she  felt  the 
symptoms.  She  was  publicly  declared  to  be  pregnant,  and  Bonner,  bishop 
of  Loudcm,  ordered  public  prayers  to  be  put  up,  that  the  young  prince — 
for  the  catholics  chose  to  consider  not  merely  the  pregnancy  of  the  queen, 
but  even  the  sex  of  the  child  a  matter  perfectly  settled ! — might  be  beau- 
4ifu.,  strong,  and  witty.  The  people  in  general,  however,  manifested  a 
provoking  incredulity  even  as  to  the  pregnancy  of  the  queen,  whose  age 
and  haggard  aspect  certainly  promised  no  very  numerous  offspring;  and 
tlie  people's  incredulity  was  shortly  afterwards  justified,  it  proving  that 
the  queen  had  been  mistaken  by  the  incipient  symptoms  of  dropsy.  To 
the  last  possible  moment,  however,  Philip  and  his  friends  concealed  the 
truth,  and  Philip  was  thus  enabled  to  get  himself  appointed  protector  du- 
ring the  minority,  should  the  chill  survive  and  the  queen  die.  Finding 
that  this  was  the  utmost  concession  that  could  at  present  be  wrung  from 
the  parliament,  and  trusting  that  it  might  by  good  management  be  made 
productive  of  more  at  some  future  time,  the  queen  now  dissolved  the  par- 
liament. 

A.  n.  1555. — The  dissolution  of  parliament  was  marked  by  an  occurrence 
which  of  itself  would  be  sufficient  to  indicate  the  despotic  character  of  the 
times.  Some  members  of  the  commons'  house,  unwilling  to  agree  to  the 
slavish  complaisance  commonly  shown  by  the  majority,  and  yet,  as  a 
minority,  quite  unable  to  stem  the  tide,  came  to  the  resolution  to  secede 
from  their  attendance.  No  sooner  was  the  parliament  dissolved  than 
these  members  were  indicted  in  the  king's  bench.  Six  of  them,  terrified 
at  the  mere  thought  of  a  contest  with  the  powerful  and  vindictive  queen, 
made  the  requisite  submissions  and  obtained  pardon;  and  the  remainder 
exercised  their  right  of  traverse,  thereby  so  long  postponing  the  trial  that 
the  queen's  death  put  an  end  to  the  affair  altogether.  Gardiner's  success 
in  bringing  about  the  Spanish  match  to  which  the  nation  had  been  no 


503 


THE  TllKAflURY  OF  HISTORY. 


averse,  atifl  Uin  liu.t  and  ze:il  for  Iho  qunfMi's  sorvioe  which  hn  hid  shown 
in  his  df'Xlfirous  inmingeiiKMil  of  tho  house  of  coininoiiH,  made  liim  im^ 
more  thiiii  (.'Vf  r  a  wei^lily  iiiiiht»i-ity,  not  only  with  tho  (jiioon  but  witli  tlie 
catholic  p:>rly  in  tfiMienil.  It  is  singulur  (mjoukIi,  as  ilunio  well  rt-initrks, 
that  thouuh  this  very  learned  prelate  was  far  less  zealous  upoij  points  of 
theolojcy  than  Canfinal  Pole,  yet,  while  the  mild  leMipcr  of  the  l,iit,,r 
allayed  and  chastened  his  tendency  towards  bijfolry,  liiesterntTand  hardi. 
er  character  of  the  former  caused  him  to  look  upon  the  free  jud;{ineiit  o| 
tho  commonality  us  a  presumption  which  it  behov(!d  the  rulers  of  the  laud 
to  put  clown,  even  by  the  severest  ami  most  uusparinij  resort  to  persecu 
tion.  For  some  time  it  was  doubtful  whether  the  milder  course,  recom- 
mended as  politic  by  Pole,  or  the  sterner  course,  advocated  a?  (!ssuiitiii||y 
necessary  by  Gardiner,  would  prevail.  But  Gardiner  had  the  great  advaii- 
tage  of  advocating  the  system  whitdi  was  the  most  in  accordance  witli 
the  cruel  and  bigoted  temper  of  both  Philip  and  Mary  ;  and  Pole  hail  tlic 
mortification  not  oidy  of  being  vannuished  by  his  opponent,  but  also  o( 
seeing  full  and  terrible  license  and  freedom  given  to  the  hitherto  partially 
restrained  demons  of  persecution. 

Having  determined  the  queen  and  court  to  a  course  of  severity,  Gar. 
diner  had  no  difflculty  in  persuading  them  that  it  was  politic  to  select  the 
first  victims  from  among  the  eminent  for  learning  or  authority,  or  both; 
and  Rogers,  prebendary  of  St.  Paul's,  a  man  still  more  remarkable  fur 
virtue  and  learning  than  for  his  eminence  in  the  church  and  in  the  reform- 
ed party,  had  the  melancholy  honour  of  being  singled  out  as  the  first  vie. 
tim.  As  instances  of  conversion  were  even  more  sought  after  by  Gardiii. 
er  than  punishment,  there  was  probably  yet  another  reason  why  Rogers 
was  selected  for  the  first  prosecution.  lie  had  a  wife  and  ten  children, 
and  was  remarkable  for  his  affection  both  as  a  father  and  a  husband ;  and 
there  was  every  probability  that  tenderness  for  them  might  lead  him  to 
avoid,  by  apostacy,  a  danger  which  otherwise  ho  might  have  been  expect- 
ed to  brave.  But  if  Gardiner  really  reasoned  thus,  ho  was  greatly  mista- 
ken. Rogers  not  only  refused  to  recant  an  iota  of  his  opinions  at  what 
was  called  his  trial,  but  even  after  the  fatal  sentence  of  burning  was  pass- 
ed upon  him  he  stdl  preserved  such  an  equable  frame  of  mind,  that  when 
the  fatal  hour  arrived  his  jailers  actually  had  to  awaken  him  from  a  sweet 
sound  sleep  to  proceed  to  the  stake.  Such  courage  might,  one  would 
suppose,  have  disarmed  even  the  wrath  of  bigotry ;  but  Gardiner,  when 
the  condemned  gentleman  asked  permission  to  have  a  parting  interview 
with  his  wife,  cruelly  and  scoffingly  replied,  that  Rogers,  being  a  priest, 
could  not  possibly  have  a  wife !  This  unfortunate  and  learned  divine  was 
burned  at  Smithfield,  and  the  flames  that  consumed  him  may  be  said  to 
have  kindled  a  vast  and  moving  pile  that  swallowed  up  sufferers  of  both 
sexes,  and  of  nearly  all  ages  in  every  county  of  Kngland. 

Hooper,  bishop  of  Gloucester,  was  tried  at  the  same  time  with  Rogers, 
and  was  also  condemned  to  the  stake,  but,  witii  a  refinement  upon  cruelty, 
he  was  not  executed  at  Smithfield,  though  tried  in  London,  but  sent  for 
that  purpose  into  his  own  diocese,  that  his  agonies  and  death  in  the  midst 
of  the  very  scene  of  his  labours  of  piely  and  usefulness  might  the  more 
effectually  strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of  his  flock.  Hooper,  however, 
turned  what  his  enemies  intended  for  an  aggravation  of  his  fate  into  a 
consolation,  and  an  opportunity  of  giving  to  those  whom  he  had  long  and 
faithfully  tauyht,  a  parting  proof  of  the  sincerity  of  his  teachings,  and  ol 
the  efficacy  of^  genuine  religion  to  uphold  its  sincere  believers,  even  uiidei 
the  most  terrible  agonies  that  ruthless  and  mistaken  man,  in  his  pride  of 
fierceness,  can  inflict  upon  his  fellow  worm.  And  terrible,  even  beyond 
the  usual  terrors  of  these  abominable  scenes,  were  the  tortures  of  the 
martyred  Hooper.  The  faggots  provided  for  his  execution  were  too  green 
to  kindle  rapidly,  and,  a  high  wind  blowing  at  the  time,  the  flames  played 


THR  TUBABUilY  OF  UltiTOUY. 


MS 


tround  hin  lower  limbN  without  being  Hblc  lo  rasteii  upon  the  vital  piirlM. 
One  (if  Ills  liiiiiilH  dropped  ufT,  and  witli  the  ullior  lie  coiitiiuu!il  to  t)«;ai  his 
breast,  pr:iyiii|f  to  heaven  and  exhorting  the  pitying  spectutofM,  until  iiis 
swollen  tongue  could  no  longer  perform  its  office  ;  and  it  waH  three  quar- 
tpis  of  an  hour  before  hin  tortures  were  at  an  end.  Of  the  courage  and 
sineerily  of  Hooper  there  is  striking  evidence  in  the  fael  that  llio  (lueen's 
pardon  was  placed  before  hiin  on  a  stool  after  he  was  tied  lo  the  stake, 
but  he  ordered  it  lo  be  removed,  preferring  the  direst  torture  with  sincerity, 
to  safely  with  apostacy. 

Sanders,  burned  at  Coventry,  also  had  the  aucen's  pardon  offered  to 
him,  and  he  also  rejected  it,  embracing  the  stake  and  exclaiming,  "  Wo 
have  the  (TOSS  of  Christ!  Welcome  everlasting  life."  Taylor,  the  cler- 
gyman of  lladley,  in  Hertfordshire,  was  burned  at  that  place,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Ins  parishioners.  When  lied  lo  the  stake  lie  began  to  pray  in 
Knglisli,  which  so  enraged  his  guards,  that,  bidding  him  speak  Latin,  ihey 
struck  him  so  violently  on  the  head  with  their  halberls,  that  he  died  on  ih'u 
instant,  and  was  spared  the  lingering  agonies  prepared  for  him. 

Philpot,  archdeacon  of  Winchester,  had  very  greatly  distinguished 
himself  by  Ins  zeal  for  protestantism.  On  one  occasion,  being  engaged 
in  a  controversy  with  an  Arian,  the  zeal  of  the  archdeacon  so  far  got  the 
ascendancy  over  his  good  manners,  that  he  actually  spat  in  the  Arian's 
face.  Subsequently,  and  when  he  might  have  been  expected  to  have  re- 
pented on  reflection  of  what  he  had  done  in  the  heat  of  passion,  he  pub- 
lished a  formal  justification  of  his  conduct,  in  which  he  said  that  he  felt 
bound  to  give  that  strong  proof  of  the  detestation  of  his  opponent's  blas> 
phemy.  So  impetuous  a  man  wr.a  not  likely  to  escape  notice  in  the 
persecution  that  now  raged,  and  he  was  brought  lo  trial  for  heresy  and 
Durned  to  death  in  Smithfield. 

If  Gardiner  was  the  person  to  whom  the  persecution  chiefly  owed  its 
commencement,  it  wiis  Uonncr,  bishop  of  London,  who  carried  it  on 
with  the  coarsest  and  most  unrelenting  barbarity.  Apart  from  all  mere 
bigotry,  this  singularly  brutal  man  appeared  to  derive  positive  sensual 
gratification  from  the  act  of  inflicting  torture.  He  occasionally,  when  he 
had  prisoners  under  examination  who  did  not  answer  to  his  satisfaction, 
would  have  them  stripped  and  flog  them  with  his  own  hand.  Nor  was 
this  his  worst  brutality.  An  unforlunate  weaver,  on  one  occasion,  re- 
fused to  recant,  when  Bonner  endeavoured  to  persuade  him,  and,  as  ia 
veraciously  recorded,  this  disgrace  of  his  sacred  profession  first  tore  the 
unfortunate  man's  beard  out  by  the  root,  and  then  held  his  hand  in  the 
flame  of  a  lamp  until  the  sinews  burst,  by  way  of  giving  him,  as  he  said, 
some  nolion  of  what  burning^  really  was  like  ! 

When  we  say  that  this  horrible  system  of  persecution  and  cruelty 
endured  for  three  years,  and  that  in  that  time  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
seven  persons  are  known  to  have  suffered — while  probably  many  more 
were  similarly  butchered  of  whom  we  have  no  account — while  that,  be- 
sides men  of  all  ranks,  from  bishops  to  day-labourers,  fifty-five  women 
and  four  children  thus  perished,  it  must  be  obvious  that  a  detailed  account 
of  this  terrible  season  of  cruelly  would  be  disgusting,  even  were  it  not 
quite  impracticable.  We  shall,  therefore,  add  but  a  few  more  cases, 
and  then  leave  a  subject  which  cannot  be  treated  of  even  at  this  distance 
of  time  without  feelings  of  disgitst  and  horror. 

Ferrar,  bishop  of  St.  David's,  in  Wales,  being  condemned  to  death  as  a 
heretic,  appealed  lo  Cardinal  Pole  ;  but  his  appeal  was  wholly  unattended 
to,  and  tiie  unfortunate  bishop  was  burned  in  his  own  diocese. 

There  yet  remained  two  still  more  illustrious  victims  to  be  immolated. 
Ridley,  formerly  bishop  of  London,  and  Latimer,  formerly  bishop  of  Wor- 
cester, had  long  been  celebrated  for  both  the  zeal  and  efficiency  of  their 
support  of  the  cause  uf  the  reformation.     In  the  preaching  of  both  then* 


604 


THB  TUKABUilY  OF  HISTORY. 


waa  II  c);rtiiiri  nervous  hoinoliiinnii,  which  inmlu  their  elnqiinncp  onpncialljr 
eflr«nlivi!  iipoii  thi.-  iiuikJm  ami  hoartn  ofiho  lowttr  urderiii  niid  on  that  very 
iictMxiiit  ihcHi!  two  prulateN  worn  more  rorinidablo  to  thn  Koiiinnisti  than 
thi'V  woiilil  have  Ihmmi  h  fl  lht;y  affuctcil  a  more  learm-d  uii'l  clia««t«Mic(l 
■tylc.  That  two  siK-h  cajiital  eiimnies  of  ItoinaiiiHin  one  of  whom  more- 
over,  hail  rvon  forioino  ihiioImmmi  portsi-wsetl  of  Boiincr'H  owuncr — should 
(!8eap(!,  coulil  n(»t  b(!  expected.  They  were  tritMl  and  eondemned,  and 
both  hurned  at  liiu  saniu  stake  at  Oxford.  Doth  <lied  with  coura<;(;  and  a 
calm  eon!4tancy  not  to  be  siirpasxed.  Kven  when  they  were  already  tied 
to  the  Htake,  and  the  rovollin<(  tra^euy  coninieiK^ed,  Latimer  cheerfully 
called  out,  "  He  of  ^;^)od  courage,  brother  Ridley,  we  hIihII  this  day  kindle 
Auch  a  torch  in  Rutland,  as,  1  trust  in  (lod,  shall  never  be  extiiiguiHJied." 
LatuiKT,  who  was  very  aged,  MuflTered  but  lillle,  being  very  early  kdled  liy 
the  explosion  of  some  gunpowder  which  the  exe^-ntioner  had  mercifully 
provided  for  that  purpose ;  but  Ridley  was  soea  to  be  alive  noiiic  tiniu 
after  he  was  surrounded  by  flames. 

As  neither  age  nor  youth,  neither  learning  nor  courage,  could  make  any 
impression  upon  the  llinty  heart  of  Uonner,  so  neither  could  even  the  ni08t 
heroic  proof  of  filial  piety.  A  young  lad,  named  Fiunter,  who  was  only 
in  his  ninetetMitli  year,  suffered  himself,  with  the  inijirudence  common  to 
youth,  to  be  drawn  into  a  ndigious  ar<rument  with  a  priest,  in  the  (;ourse 
of  which  argument  he  had  the  farther  imprudence  todeny  the  real  presence. 
Subsequently  he  began  to  apprehend  the  danger  of  what  he  had  done,  and 
abscondiid  lest  any  treachery  on  the  part  of  the  priest  should  involve  him 
in  punishment.  The  priest,  as  the  young  man  had  feared,  did  give  infor- 
mation, and  Bonner,  learning  thnt  the  youth  had  absconded,  caused  hia 
father  to  be  seized,  and  not  only  treated  him  with  great  immediate 
severity,  but  threatened  him  with  still  worse  future  treatment.  The 
youth  no  sooner  hoard  of  the  danger  and  trouble  to  which  ho  had  unin- 
tentionally exposed  his  father,  than  he  delivered  himself  up.  To  a  gen- 
erous man  this  conduct  would  have  been  decisive  as  to  the  propriety  of 
overlooking  the  lad's  speculative  error  or  boldness  ;  but  Bonner  knew  no 
remorse,  and  the  youth  was  mercilessly  committed  to  the  flames. 

A  still  more  disgraceful  and  barbarous  incident  occurred  in  Guern- 
sey. A  wretched  woman  in  that  island  was  condemned  to  the  stake, 
and  was,  when  led  to  punishment,  far  advanced  in  pregnancy.  The 
ineffable  pangs  inflicted  upon  her  produced  labour,  and  one  of  the 
guards  snatched  the  new-born  infant  from  the  flames.  A  brutal  and 
thoroughly  ignorant  magistrate  who  was  present  ordered  the  helpless 
little  innocent  to  be  thrown  back  again,  "  being  determined  that  nothing 
should  survive  which  sprung  from  so  heretical  and  obstinate  a  parent." 
Setting  aside  the  abhorrent  and  almost  incredible  offence  against  humanity 
committed  by  this  detestable  magistrate,  he  was,  even  in  the  rigid  inter 
prelalio:?  of  the  law,  a  murderer,  and  ought  to  have  been  executed  as  one; 
ibr,  whatever  the  offence  of  the  wretched  mother,  the  child  clearly  was 
not  contemplated  in  the  sentence  passed  upon  her.  But,  alas !  the  spiiit 
of  bigotry  trainples  alike  upon  th<o  laws  of  nature  and  of  man ;  and  it  is 
probable  that  this  detestable  murderer,  so  far  from  receiving  merited  pun- 
ishment for  his  brutality,  might  have  been  even  applauded  for  his  "zeal." 
As  thou^rli  tlie  national  dread  and  detestation  of  the  Spanish  alliance  had 
not  already  been  but  too  abundantly  justified  by  the  event,  spies  were 
sent  out  in  every  direction,  and  a  commission  was  appointed  for  inquiring 
into  and  punishing  all  spiritual  and  even  some  civil  crimes;  and  two  very 
brief  exiiac is  from  the  commissio^  and  instructions  will  show  that  in  ob- 
ject, powers,  and  process,  the  commissioners  were,  only  under  another 
name,  inquisitors,  and  their  spies  and  informers  oflicials  of  the  inquisition. 
The  commission  said,  that  "Since  many  false  rumours  were  published 
among  the  subjects,  and  many  heretical  or   -ions  were  also  spread  among 


THE  TUEA8IJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


50ft 


ihem,  tho  roinmiisionern  \vprfloiiii|iiirt'  inlu  llw^e  fiitierhy  pr*>flnilM)riit«, 
by  uiiii*-sHi'8,  or  any  othrr  political  wuy  th<-y  coiilil  ilrviHr,  tiiid  to  Msirrh 
aficr  all  lu-n-HifH,  the  brmgcrH  in,  Ibi-  itrllt'rH,  the  n'mW-rx  (if  all  l<"r>'!if;,l 
))i)i)kM  ;  to  fxaiiiinc  and  piiiiiih  nil  iiiiKlx-liiiVMiurN  or  nc(|lii;(>''.i'i'H  in  any 
(■hiircli  or  (!liap<fl ;  to  try  nil  pricftn  that  did  not  [inMi-li  llu-  sacranicnt  or 
tlit>  altar ;  all  pt>rsuns  thai  did  not  hear  niasis,  or  i;o  to  tlnir  parish  i  liiin-h 
to  service;  that  would  not  |{o  in  pro<  rxMioiiM  or  did  not  take  holy  hrcad  or 
lioly  water ;  and  if  they  found  any  that  did  oliitinatrly  persist  in  Hiich 
liercMieH,  tluiy  witu  to  put  tliiMn  into  th«  liandn  uf  their  ordinance,  to  he 
punished  according  to  the  Hfiiritual  Iiuh;  Kivin^  the  coinini»nioners  full 
power  to  jiroeeed  as  their  discretion  and  roiinrifnrcs  Hhonid  direct  them, 
and  to  use  all  such  means  ai  they  would  uirciU  for  the  Mfarchinij  of  the 
premises,  einpowerini^  them,  alHo,  to  call  liefore  them  such  witncHHen  as 
llicy  plt'an''d,  and  Utjorce  Ihem  to  make  imlh  uf  such  Ihinjrs  ai  mif^/it  dixcover 
uhat  they  soHfflU  after."  This  new  coiniiiissioii  was,  in  fact,  an  Knglish 
inquisition;  and  tho  folluwinjf  extract  from  Hume  ahinidanlly  shows  tho 
deterniinalion  that  that  inquisition  should  not  want  U>r  i>Jficials  aiul/ami/iars. 

"To  bring  the  method  uf  proceeding  in  Kngland  still  nearer  totlieprais 
tice  of  the  inquisition,  letters  were  written  to  Lord  North  and  others,  en- 
iuiiiiiig  them  '  tu  put  to  the  torture' such  obstinate  persons  as  would  nut 
confess,  and  there  to  urdcr  them  at  tliuir  discretion. 

"Secret  spies,  also,  and  informers  were  employed,  according  to  the 
practice  uf  that  iniquitous  tribunal.  Instructions  were  given  to  tlic  Jus- 
tices of  the  peace  that  they  should  'call  secretly  before  them  one  or  two 
lioiiu;»t  persons  within  their  limits,  or  more,  at  their  discretion,  and  com- 
mand them,  by  nath  or  otherwise,  that  they  shall  secretly  learn  and  search 
out  such  persons  as  shall  evil  behave  themselves  in  the  church,  or  idly,  or 
shall  despise,  openly  by  words,  the  king's  or  queen's  proceedings,  or  go 
about  to  make  any  commotion,  or  tell  any  seditious  tales  or  news.'  And 
also  that  the  same  persons,  so  to  be  appointed,  shall  declare  to  the  same 
justices  of  the  peace  the  ill  behaviour  of  lewd  disorderly  persons,  whether 
it  shall  be  for  using  unlawful  games  or  any  such  other  light  behaviour  of 
sucii  suspected  persons ;  and  that  the  same  information  shall  be  given 
secretly  to  the  justices,  and  the  same  justices  shall  call  such  accused  per- 
sons before  them  and  examine  them,  without  declaring  by  whom  they 
were  accused." 

This  precious  commission  also  had  power  to  execute  by  martial  law 
not  only  the  putters  forih  of  all  heretical,  treasonable,  and  seditious  books 
and  writings,  bn'  ^so  all  "  whosoever  had  any  of  these  books  and  did  not 
presently  burn  Jiem,  without  reading  them  or  showing  them  to  any  other 
person."  Hid  wot  the  whole  tenor  of  this  portion  of  our  history  forbid  all 
tomdi  of  huiHoiu,  one  would  be  strongly  templed  to  inquire  how  a  man 
was  poss.il)ly  iw  know  the  character  of  books  coming  to  him  by  gift  or  in- 
iieritaiu<  for  instance,  without  either  reading  them  himself  or  showing 
them  t>>  »v)iiie  one  else !  But  as  bigotry  cannot  feel,  so  neither  will  it 
condescend  to  reason. 

While  Philip  and  Mary  were  thus  exhibiting  an  evil  industry  and  zeal 
to  merit  tho  reconcilement  of  the  kingdom  to  Rome,  Paul  IV.,  who  now 
filled  the  papal  throne,  took  advantage  of  Mary's  bigotry  to  assume  the 
tif^Ul  oS  confernnfr  upon  Mary  the  kingdom  of  'i'  '  iiid,  which  she  already 
possessed  dejactoet  de  jure  as  part  and  parcel  >[  the  Knglish  sovereignty, 
uiid  to  insist  upon  the  restoration  to  Rome  of  certain  lands  and  money ! 
Several  of  the  council,  probably  fearing  that  b\  degrees  Rome  would  de- 
mand back  all  the  church  properly,  pointed  ou.  the  great  danger  of  impov- 
erisliing  the  kingdum,  and  but  that  dealli  had  deprived  Mary  of  the  shrewd 
judgment  of  Gardiner,  such  concessions  would  probably  not  have  been 
made  to  the  grasping  spirit  of  Rome.  But  Mary  replied  to  all  objections 
bv  saying  that  she  preferred  the  salvation  of  he'  cvvn  soul  to  ten  such 


boe 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


kingdoms  an  England ;  and  Heath,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  had 
succeeded  Gardiner  in  the  possession  of  the  great  seal,  encouraged  her  in 
that  feeling.  A  hill  was  accordingly  presented  to  parliament  for  restoriiij; 
to  the  church  the  tenths,  first  fruits,  and  all  impropriations  which  remained 
in  the  hands  of  the  queen.  At  first  sight  it  might  seem  that  parliament 
had  little  cause  or  rijjht  to  interfere  in  a  matter  which,  as  far  as  the  terms 
of  the  bill  went,  concerned  only  the  queen  herself.  But  the  lay  possessors 
of  church  lands  naturally  enough  considered  that  subjects  would  scarcely 
be  spared  after  the  sovereign  had  been  mulcted.  Moreover,  while  some, 
probably  a  great  number,  of  the  members  were  chiefly  moved  by  this  con- 
sideration, all  began  to  be  both  terrified  and  disgusted  by  the  cruel  execu- 
tions which  had  disgraced  the  whole  nation.  A  steady  opposition  conse- 
quently arose ;  and  when  the  government  applied  for  a  subsidy  for  two 
years  and  for  two-fifteenths,  the  latter  were  refused,  and  the  opposition 
with  equal  bitterness  and  justice,  gave  as  the  reason  of  this  refusal,  that 
while  the  crown  was  wilfully  divcstingitself  of  revenue  inbebalf  of  Rornt; 
it  was  quite  useless  to  bestow  wealth  upon  it.  The  dissatisfaction  of  the 
parliament  was  still  farther  evidenced  by  the  rejection  of  two  bills,  enact- 
ing penalties  against  such  e.xiles  as  should  fail  to  return  within  a  certain 
time,  and  for  incapacitnting  for  the  office  of  justice  of  the  peace  such 
magistrates  as  were  remiss  in  the  prosecution  of  heretics.  This  fresh  and 
pointed  proof  of  the  displeasure  of  the  parliament  determined  the  queen 
to  dissolve  it.  But  the  dissolution  of  the  parliament  did  not  diminish  the 
pecuniary  embarrassment  of  the  queen.  Her  husband  had  now  been 
several  months  with  his  father  in  Flanders ;  and  the  very  little  of  his  cor- 
respondence  with  which  he  favoured  her  chiefly  consisted  of  demands  for 
money.  Stern  and  unfeeling  as  she  wiis  to  every  one  else,  the  infatuated 
queen  was  passionately  attached  to  the  husband  who  certainly  took  no 
pains  to  conceal  his  dislike  of  her  ;  and  as  the  parliament,  previous  to  its 
dissolution,  had  granted  her  but  a  scanty  supply,  she  was  led,  by  her 
anxiety  to  meet  her  husband's  demands,  to  extort  money  from  her  subjects 
in  a  manner  the  most  unjustifiable.  From  each  of  one  thousand  persons, 
of  whose  personal  attachment  she  afTected  to  be  quite  certain,  she  de- 
manded  a  loan  of  60/. ;  and  even  this  large  sum  being  inadequate  to  lier 
wants,  she  demanded  a  farther  general  loan  from  all  persons  possessing 
twenty  pounds  a  year  and  upwards;  a  measure  which  greatly  distressed 
the  smaller  gentry.  Many  of  them  were  obliged  by  her  inroads  upon 
their  purses  to  discharge  some  of  their  servants,  and  as  these  men  sud- 
denly thrown  upon  the  world  became  troublesome,  the  queen  issued  a 
proclamation  to  compel  their  former  employers  to  take  them  back  again! 
Upon  seven  thousand  yeomen  who  h&d  not  as  yet  contributed,  she  levied 
sixty  thousand  marks,  and  from  the  merchants  she  obtained  the  sum  of 
six  and  thirty  thousand  pounds.  She  also  extorted  money  by  the  most 
tyrannous  interference  with  trade,  as  regarded  both  the  foreign  and  native 
merchants  ;  yet  after  all  this  shameless  extortion  she  was  so  poor,  that 
she  offered,  and  in  vain,  so  bad  was  her  credit,  fourteen  per  cent,  for  a  loan 
of  30,000^  Not  even  that  high  rate  of  interest  could  induce  the  merchants 
of  Antwerp,  to  whom  she  offered  it,  to  lend  her  the  money,  until  by  men- 
aces she  had  induced  her  good  city  of  London  to  be  security  for  her! 
Who  would  imagine  that  we  are  writing  of  the  self-same  nation  that  so 
shortly  afterwards  warred  even  to  the  death  with  Charles  I.  for  the  com- 
paratively trifling  matter  of  the  ship  money? 

The  poverty  svhich  alone  had  induced  Philip  to  correspond  with  her  was 
now  terminated,  the  emperor  Charles  the  Fifth,  that  prince's  father,  resign- 
ing  to  him  all  his  wealth  and  dominion,  and  retiring  to  a  monastery  in 
Spain.  A  singular  anecdote  is  told  of  the  abdicated  nmnarch.  He  spent 
much  of  his  time  in  the  constructing  of  watches,  and  finding  it  impossible 
to  make  them  go  exactly  alike,  he  remarked  that  he  had  indeed  been  fool 


THE  TBEASUaii  OF  HISTORY. 


807 


ish  to  expect  that  he  could  compel  that  uniformity  in  minds  which  he  could 
not  achieve  even  in  mere  machmes  !  The  reflection  thus  produced  is  said 
even  to  "lave  given  him  some  leaning  towards  tltose  theological  opinions 
of  wliich  he  and  his  son  had  been  the  most  brutal  and  ruthless  persecutors. 

A.  D.  1556.^Cranmer,  though  during  the  whole  of  this  reign  he  had  been 
left  unnoticed  in  confinement,  was  not  forgotten  by  the  vindictive  queen 
She  was  daily  more  and  more  exacerbated  in  her  naturally  wretched  tem- 
per by  the  grief  caused  by  the  contemptuous  neglect  of  her  husband.  Her 
private  hours  were  spent  in  tears  and  complaints;  and  that  misery  which 
usually  softens  even  the  most  rugged  nature  had  in  her  case  only  the  efTect 
of  making  her  still  more  ruthless  and  unsparing. 

Cranmer,  though  he  had  during  part  of  Henry's  reign  warded  off  that 
monarch's  rage  from  Mary,  was  very  much  hated  by  her  for  the  part  he 
had  taken  in  bringing  about  the  divorce  of  her  mother,  and  she  was  not 
only  resolved  to  punish  him,  but  also  to  make  his  death  as  agonising  as 
possible.  For  the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  opposition  to  her  ascending 
the  throne  she  could  easily  have  had  him  beheaded,  but  nothing  short  of 
the  flames  seemed  to  her  to  he  a  suflicienlly  dreadful  punishment  for  him. 
She  caused  the  pope  to  cite  him  to  Rome,  there  to  take  his  trial  for  heresy. 
Being  a  close  prisoner  in  the  Tower,  the  unfortunate  prelate  perforce  neg- 
lected the  citation,  and  he  was  condemned  par  conlumace,  and  sentenced 
to  the  stake.  The  next  step  was  to  degrade  him  from  his  sacred  oflSce; 
and  Bonner,  who,  with  Thirleby,  bishop  of  Ely,  was  entrusted  with  this 
task,  performed  it  with  all  the  insolent  and  triumphant  brutality  consonant 
with  his  nature.  Firmly  believing  that  Cranmer's  eternal  as  well  as  earthly 
punishment  was  assured,  the  queen  was  not  yet  contented ;  she  would 
fain  deprive  him  in  his  last  hours  even  of  human  sympathy,  and  the  credit 
attached  to  consistency  and  fidelity  to  the  cause  he  had  embraced.  Per- 
sons were  employed  to  persuade  him  that  the  door  of  mercy  was  still  open 
to  him,  and  that  he,  who  was  so  well  qualified  to  be  of  wide  and  perma- 
nent service  to  mankind,  was  in  duty  bound  to  save  himself  by  a  seeming 
compliance  with  the  opinions  of  the  queen.  The  fear  of  death,  and  the 
strong  urgings  of  higher  motives,  induced  Cranmer  to  comply,  and  he 
agreed  to  subscribe  to  the  doctrines  of  the  real  presence  and  the  papal 
supremacy.  Shallow  writers  have  blamed  Cranmer  for  this  compliance ; 
none  will  do  so  who  consider  "  how  fearfully  and  how  wonderfully  we  are 
made" — in  mind  as  well  as  in  body;  how  many  and  urgent  were  the  n'u- 
tives  to  this  weakness,  how  much  his  mind  was  shaken  by  long  peril  aiul 
imprisonment,  and,  above  all,  who  remember  and  reflect  how  nobly  he 
subsequently  shook  off  all  earthly  motives  "like  dew  drops  from  the  lion's 
mane,"  and  with  what  calm  and  holy  serenity  he  endured  the  last  dread 
tortures. 

Having  induced  Cranmer  privately  to  sign  his  recantation,  the  queen 
now  demanded  that  he  should  complete  the  wretched  price  of  his  safety 
by  publicly  making  his  recantation  at  St.  Paul's  before  the  whole  people. 
Even  this  would  not  have  saved  Cranmer.  But,  either  from  his  own 
Judgment,  or  from  the  warning  of  some  secret  friend,  Cranmer  perceived 
that  it  was  intended  to  send  him  to  execution  the  moment  that  he  should 
thus  have  completed  and  published  his  degradation.  All  his  former  high 
and  courageous  spirit  was  now  again  aroused  within  him ;  and  he  not  only 
refused  to  comply  with  this  new  demand,  but  openly  and  boldly  said  that 
the  only  passage  in  his  life  of  which  he  deeply  and  painfully  repented  was, 
that  recantation  which,  in  a  moment  of  natural  weakness,  he  already  had 
been  induced  to  make.  He  now,  he  said,  most  sincerely  repented  and  dis- 
avowed that  recantation,  and  inasmuch  as  his  hand  had  offended  in  signing 
it,  so  should  his  hand  first  suffer  the  doom  which  only  that  single  weak- 
ness and  insincerity  had  made  him  de8ervin<j.  The  rage  of  the  court  a.:;-' 
its  sycophants  at  hearing  a  public  avowal  so  different  from  that  which 


508 


THB  TREASURY  OF  UlSTOSL  . 


Ihey  expected,  scarcely  left  them  as  much  decency  of  patience  as  would 
allow  them  to  hear  him  to  the  end  of  his  discourse ;  and  the  instant  that 
he  ceased  to  speak  he  was  led  away  to  the  stake. 

True  to  his  promise,  Cranmer  when  the  faggots  were  lighted  held  out 
his  hand  into  the  rising  flames  until  it  was  consumed,  repeatedly  exclaim- 
ing as  he  did  so,  "  This  unworthy  hand!"  "  This  hand  has  offended T  The 
fierce  fliimes,  as  they  reached  his  body,  were  not  able  to  subdue  the  sub- 
lime  serenity  to  which  he  had  wrought  his  christian  courage  and  endurance, 
and  as  long  as  his  countenance  was  visible  to  the  appalled  bystanders,  it 
wore  the  character  not  of  agony  but  of  a  holy  sacrifice,  not  of  despair  but 
of  an  assured  and  eternal  hope.  It  is  said  by  some  Protestant  writers  of 
the  time,  that  when  the  sad  scene  was  at  an  end,  his  heart  was  found  en- 
tire and  uninjured ;  but  probably  this  assertion  took  its  rise  in  the  singular 
constancy  and  calmness  with  which  the  martyr  died.  Cardinal  Pole,  on 
the  death  of  Cranmer,  was  made  archbishop  of  Canterbury.  But  though 
this  ecclesiastic  was  a  man  of  great  humanity  as  well  as  of  great  ability, 
and  though  he  was  sincerely  anxious  to  serve  the  great  interests  of  religion 
not  by  ensnaring  and  destroying  the  unhappy  and  ignorant  laity,  but  by 
elevating  the  clergy  in  the  moral  and  intellectual  scale,  to  render  them 
more  efficient  in  their  awfully  important  service,  there  were  circumstances 
which  made  his  power  far  inferior  to  his  will.  He  was  personally  disliked 
at  Rome,  where  his  tolerance,  his  learning,  and  his  addiction  to  studious 
retirement,  had  caused  him  to  be  suspected  of,  at  least,  a  leaning  to  the 
new  doctrines. 

A.  D.  1557. — Tn  the  midst  of  Mary's  fierce  persecutions  of  her  protestant 
subjects,  she  was  self-tortured  beyond  all  that  she  had  it  in  her  power  to 
inflict  on  others,  and  mfght  have  asked,  in  the  words  of  the  dying  Inca  to 
his  complaining  soldiers,  "Think  you  that  /,  then,  am  on  a  bed  of  roses  1" 
War  raged  between  France  and  Spain,  and  next  to  her  desire  firmly  to  re- 
establish Catholicism  in  England,  was  her  desire  to  lavish  the  blood  and 
treasures  of  her  people  on  the  side  of  Spain.  Some  opposition  being  made 
Philip  visited  London,  and  the  queen's  zeal  in  his  cause  was  increased, 
instead  of  being,  as  in  the  case  of  a  nobler  spirit  it  would  have  been,  utterly 
destroyed,  by  his  sullen  declaration,  that  if  England  did  not  join  him  against 
France,  he  would  see  England  no  more.  Even  this,  however  much  it  af- 
fected  the  queen,  did  not  bear  down  the  opposition  to  a  war  which,  as  the 
clearer-headed  members  discerned,  would  be  intolerably  expensive  in  any 
cf.se,  and,  if  successful,  would  tend  to  make  England  a  mere  dependency 
of  Spain.  Under  the  circumstances,  a  true  English  patriot,  indeed,  must 
have  wished  to  see  Spain  humbled,  not  exalted ;  crippled  in  its  finances, 
not  enriched.  It  unfortunately  happened,  however,  that  an  attempt  was 
made  to  seize  Scarborough,  and  Stafford  and  his  fellows  in  this  attempt 
confessed  that  they  were  incited  to  it  by  Henrv  of  France.  This  declar- 
ation called  up  all  the  dominant  national  antipathy  to  France  ;  the  prudence 
of  the  opposition  was  at  once  laid  asleep ;  war  was  declared,  and  every 
preparation  that  the  wretched  financial  state  of  England  would  permit, 
was  made  for  carrying  it  on  with  vigour.  By  dint  of  a  renewal  of  the 
most  shameless  and  excessive  extortion,  the  queen  contrived  to  raise  and 
equip  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men,  who  were  sent  to  Flanders  under  the 
earl  of  Pembroke.  To  prevent  disturbances  at  home,  Mary,  in  obedience 
probably  to  the  advice  of  her  cold  and  cruel  husband,  caused  many  of  the 
first  men  in  England,  from  whom  she  had  any  reason  to  fear  opposition, 
to  be  seized  and  imprisoned  in  places  where  even  their  nearest  friendi 
could  not  find  them. 

The  details  of  the  military  affairs  between  France  and  Spain  with  her 
English  auxiliaries  belong  to  the  history  of  France.  In  this  place  it  may 
suffice  to  say,  that  the  talents  of  Guise  rendered  all  attempts  useless ;  and 
and  that,  so  far  from  benefiting  Philip,  the  English  lost  Calais,  that  key  tv 


Q.UEE.N  Elizaueiu. 


THE  TRBASUUV  OF  HISTORY. 


509 


France,  of  which  England  was  so  chary  and  so  proud.  Kven  the  cold  and 
unpHtriotic  heart  of  Mary  \vns  touched  by  this  capital  inisrortune;  and  she 
was  often  heard  to  say,  in  the  agonies  of  her  uxorious  grief,  that,  after 
her  death  "Calais"  would  be  found  visibly  graven  upon  htr  broken  heart. 
But  regrets  were  vain,  and  wisdom  came  too  late.  France  improved  her 
success  by  stirring  up  the  Scotch ;  and,  with  such  a  danger  threatening 
her  very  frontier,  England  was  obliged  sullenly  and  silently  to  withdraw 
from  an  oaerous  warfare,  which  she  had  most  unwisely  entered  upon. 

Philip  cotK^nued  the  war  for  some  time  after  England  had  virtually  with- 
drawn from  it;  and  he  was  negotiating  a  peace  and  insisting  upon  the  res- 
toration of  Calais  as  one  of  its  conditions,  when  Mary,  long  labouring  un- 
der a  dropsy,  was  seized  with  mortal  illness  and  died,  in  the  year  1588, 
after  a  most  wretched  and  mischievous  reign  of  five  years  and  four  months. 
This  miserable  woman  has  been  allowed  the  virtue  of  sincerity  as  the 
sole  good,  the  one  oasis  in  the  dark  desert  of  her  character.  But  even 
this  virtue  must,  on  careful  examination,  be  denied  to  her  by  the  impartial 
historian.  As  a  whole,  indeed,  her  course  is  not  marked  by  insincerity. 
But  why?  Her  ferocity  and  despotism  were  too  completely  unresisted 
by  her  tame  and  aghast  people  to  leave  any  room  for  the  exercise  of  false- 
hood, after  tlie  very  first  days  of  her  disgraceful  reign.  But  in  those  first 
days,  while  it  was  yet  uncertain  whether  she  could  resist  the  power  and 
ability  of  the  ambitious  and  unprincipled  Northumberland,  she  proved 
that  she  could  use  guile  whers  force  was  wanting.  Her  promises  to  the 
protestants  were  in  many  cases  voluntary,  and  in  all  profuse  and  positive ; 
yet  she  no  sooner  grasped  the  sceptre  firmly  in  her  hand,  than  she  scat- 
tered her  promises  to  the  winds,  and  commenced  that  course  of  bigotry 
and  cruelty  which  has  for  ever  afldxed  to  her  memory  the  loathed  name, 
which  even  yet  no  Englishman  can  pronounce  without  horror  and  disgust, 
of  the  Btnonv  Quren  Mary. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 


THB    REION    OF    ELIZABETH. 


A.  D.  1558. — So  completely  had  the  arbitrary  and  cruel  reign  of  Mary 
disgusted  her  subjects,  almost  without  distinction  of  rank  or  religious 
opinions,  that  the  accession  of  Elizabeth  was  hailed  as  a  blessing  unalloy- 
ed and  almost  too  great  to  have  been  hoped  for.  The  parliament  had 
been  called  together  a  few  days  before  the  death  of  Mary,  and  when 
Heath,  as  chancellor,  announced  that  event,  he  was  hardly  allowed  to 
conclude  ere  both  houses  burst  into  the  joyful  cry  of  "  God  save  Queen 
Elizabeth !    Lonj  and  happily  may  she  reign!" 

Deep  and  deadly  indeed  must  have  been  the.  offences  of  the  deceased 
queeti  to  have  rendered  her  death  an  actual  subject  of  joy,  instead  of  grief, 
to  a  nation  proverbially  so  loyal  and  affectionate  as  England  ! 

Elizabeth,  when  she  received  the  news  of  her  sister's  death  was  at  Hat- 
field, where  she  had  for  some  time  resided  in  studious  and  close  retire 
ment;  for,  even  to  the  last,  Mary  had  shown  that  her  malignity  against  her 
younger  sister  had  suffered  no  abatementj  and  required  only  the  slightest 
occasion  to  burst  out  in  fatal  violence.  When  she  had  devoted  a  few  days 
to  the  appearance  of  mourning,  she  proi^eeded  to  London  and  took  up  hei 
abode  in  the  Tower.  The  remembrance  of  the  very  different  circum- 
Btaiices  under  whicl  she  had  formerly  visited  that  blood-stained  fortress, 
when  she  was  a  prsoner,  and  her  life  in  danger  from  the  malignity  of 
her  then  all-powerful  sister,  aff'ected  her  so  much,  that  she  fell  upon  her 
knees  and  returned  thanks  anew  to  the  Almighty  for  her  safe  deliverance 
from  danger,  which,  she  truly  said,  was  scarcely  inferior  to  that  of  Daniel 


510 


THE  TRKACJURY  OF  HISTOttY. 


in  the  deu  of  lions.  Her  immediiitely  subsequent  conduct  showed  that 
her  huart  was  properly  affected  by  the  emotions  which  called  forth  this  act 
of  piety.  She  had  been  much  injured  and  much  insulted  during  the  life 
of  her  sister;  for  such  was  the  hateful  and  petty  cast  of  Mary's  mind, 
that  there  were  few  readier  ways  to  win  her  tavour  than  by  insult  or  in- 
jury  to  the  then  friendless  daughter  of  Anne  Boleyn.  But  Elizabeth  now 
seemed  determined  only  to  remember  the  past  in  her  thankfulness  for  her 
complete  and  almost  miraculous  deliverance  from  danger.  She  allowed 
neither  word  nor  glance  to  express  resentment,  even  to  those  who  had 
most  injured  her.  Sir  H.  Bedingfield,  who  had  for  a  considerable  time 
been  her  host,  and  who  had  both  harshly  and  disrespectfully  caused  her 
to  feel  that,  though  nominally  his  guest  and  ward,  she  was  m  reality  his 
jealously-watched  prisoner,  might  very  reasonably  have  expected  a  cold 
if  not  a  stern  reception;  but  even  this  man  she  received  with  affability 
when  he  first  presented  himself,  and  nv.  ver  afterwards  inflicted  any  severer 
punishment  upon  him  than  a  good-humoured  sarcasm.  The  sole  case 
m  which  she  manifested  a  feeling  of  dislike  was  th?t  of  the  brutal  and 
blood-stained  Bonner,  from  whom,  while  she  addressed  all  the  other 
bishops  with  almost  affectionate  cordiality,  she  turned  away  with  an  ex- 
pressive and  well-warranted  appearance  of  horror  and  disgust. 

As  soon  as  the  necessa.7  "  tention  to  her  private  affairs  would  allow 
her,  the  new  queen  sent  off  messengers  to  foreign  courts  to  announce  her 
sister's  death  and  her  own  accession.  The  envoy  to  Philip,  who  at  this 
time  was  in  Flanders,  was  the  lord  Cobham,  who  was  ordered  to  return 
the  warmest  thanks  of  his  royal  mistress  for  tlie  protection  he  had  afforded 
her  when  she  so  much  needed  it,  and  to  express  her  sincere  and  earnest 
desire  that  their  friendship  might  continue  unbroken.  The  friendly  ear- 
nestness of  Elizabeth's  message  strengthened  Philip  in  a  determination  he 
had  niiidc  even  during  the  illness  of  Mary,  of  whose  early  death  he  could 
not  but  have  been  expectant,  and  he  immediately  instructed  'lis  ambassa- 
dor to  the  court  of  London  to  offer  the  hand  of  Philip  to  Elizabeth. 
Blinded  by  his  eager  dtisire  to  obtain  that  dominion  over  England  which 
his  marriage  with  r»Iary  had  failed  to  secure,  Philip  forgot  that  there 
wen;  many  objections  to  this  measure;  objections  which  he,  indeed, 
would  easily  have  overlooked,  but  which  the  sagacious  Elizabeth  could 
not  fa  1  to  notice.  As  a  catholic,  Philip  was  necessarily  disliked  by  the 
protestants  who  had  so  lately  tasted  of  catholic  persecution  in  its  worst 
form ;  as  a  Spaniard,  he  was  cordially  detested  by  Englishmen  of  either 
creed.  But  apart  from  and  beyond  these  weighty  objections,  which  of 
themselves  would  have  been  fatal  to  his  pietensions,  he  stood  in  precisely 
the  same  relationship  to  Elizabeth  that  her  father  had  stood  in  to  Cath- 
arine of  Arragon,  and  in  marrying  Philip,  Elizabeth  would  virtually,  and 
in  a  manner  which  the  world  would  surely  not  overlook,  pronounce  her 
mother's  marriage  illegal  and  her  own  birth  illegitimate.  This  last  coti- 
sideration  alone  would  have  decided  Elizabeth  against  Philip;  but  while 
in  her  heart  siic  was  fully  and  irrevocably  determined  never  to  marry  him, 
she  even  thus  early  brought  into  use  that  duplicity  for  which  she  was 
afterwards  as  remarkable  as  for  her  higher  and  nobler  qualities,  and  sent 
him  so  equivocal  ai^i  undecided  an  answer,  that,  so  far  from  despairinir 
of  success,  Philip  actually  sent  to  Rome  to  solicit  the  dispensation  that 
would  be  necessary. 

With  her  characteristic  prudence,  Elizabeth,  through  her  ambassador  at 
Rome,  ainiounced  her  accession  to  the  pope.  That  exalted  personage 
was  grieved  at  the  early  death  of  Mary,  not  only  as  it  deprived  Rome  0' 
the  benefit  of  her  bigotry,  but  as  it  made  way  for  a  princess  who  was 
already  looked  up  to  with  pride  and  confidence  by  the  protestants ;  and 
he  suffered  his  double  vexation  to  manifest  itself  with  a  very  indiscreet 
energy.     He  treated  Elizabeth's  assumption  of  the  crown  without  his 


THB  TRBA8URY  OF  HISTOaY. 


511 


permission  as  being  doubly  wrong ;  wrong,  as  treating  witn  disrespect 
the  holy  see,  to  which  he  still  deemed  England  subject,  and  wrong,  as  the 
holy  see  had  pronounced  her  birth  illegitimate.  This  sort  of  conduct 
was  by  no  means  calculated  to  succeed  with  Elizabeth;  she  immediately 
recalled  her  ambassador  from  Rome,  and  only  pureued  her  course  with 
the  more  resolved  and  open  vigour.  She  recalled  home  all  who  had  been 
exiled,  and  set  at  liberty  all  who  had  been  imprisoned  for  their  religious 
opinions  during  the  reign  of  her  sister;  she  caused  the  greater  part  of 
the  service  to  be  performed  in  English,  and  she  forbade  the  elevation  of 
the  host  in  her  own  chapel,  which  she  set  up  as  the  standard  for  all  other 
places  of  worship.  But,  always  cool  and  cautious,  Elizabeth,  while  she 
did  thus  much  and  thus  judiciously  to  favour  the  reformers,  did  not  neg- 
lect to  discourage  those  who  not  only  would  have  fain  outstripped  her  in 
advancing  reform,  but  even  have  inflicted  upon  the  Romanists  some  of 
the  persecutions  of  which  they  themselves  had  complained.  On  occasion 
of  a  petition  being  presented  to  her,  it  was  said,  in  that  partly  quaint  and 
partly  argumentative  style  which  in  that  age  was  so  greatly  affected,  that 
having  graciously  released  so  many  other  prisoners,  it  was  to  be  hoped 
that  she  would  receive  a  petition  for  the  release  of  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke 
and  John.  Being  as  yet  undetermined  as  to  the  extent  to  which  it  would 
be  desirable  to  permit  or  encourage  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures,  she 
readily  replied,  that  previous  to  doing  so  she  must  consult  those  prison- 
ers, and  learn  whether  they  desired  their  liberty.  To  preaching  she  was 
never  a  great  friend ;  one  or  two  preachers,  she  was  wont  to  say,  were 
enough  for  a  whole  county.  And,  at  this  early  period  of  her  reign,  she 
deemed  that  the  indiscreet  zeal  of  many  of  the  most  noted  of  the  pro- 
testant  preachers  was  calculated  to  promote  that  very  persecution  of  the 
Romanists  which  she  was  especially  anxious  to  avoid  ;  and  she,  conse- 
quently, forbade  ail  preaching  save  by  special  license,  and  took  care  to 
grant  licenses  only  to  men  of  discretion  and  moderaUon,  from  whose 
preaching  no  evil  was  to  be  apprehended. 

Ttie  parliament  was  very  early  employed  in  passing  laws  for  the  sup- 
pression of  the  recently  •erected  monasteries,  and  restoring  the  alien- 
ated tenths  and  st  fruits  to  the  crown.  Sundry  other  laws  were  passed 
chiefly  relatin^  „o  religion;  but  those  laws  will  be  sufficiently  under- 
stood by  those  who  have  attentively  accompanied  us  thus  far,  when  we 
say,  that  they,  substantially,  abolished  all  that  Mary  had  done,  and  re- 
storea  all  that  she  had  abrogated  of  the  laws  of  Edward. 

The  then  bishops,  owing  everything  to  her  sister  and  to  Catholicism, 
were  so  greatly  offended  by  these  clear  indications  of  her  intended 
course,  that  they  refused  to  officiate  at  her  coronation,  and  it  was  not 
without  some  difficulty  that  the  bishop  of  Carlisle  was  at  length  pre- 
vailed upon  to  perform  the  ceremony. 

The  most  prudent  and  effectual  steps  having  thus  been  taken  to  se- 
cure Ihe  protestant  interests  without  in  any  degree  awakening  or  en- 
couraging whatever  there  might  be  of  protestant  bigotry,  and  to  despoil 
the  Romanists  of  what  they  had  violently  acquired  without  driving  tlieni 
to  desperation,  the  queen  caused  a  solemn  disputation  to  be  held  before 
Bacon,  whom  she  had  made  lord  keeper,  between  the  protestant  and  tlie 
Romanist  divines.  The  latter  were  vanquished  in  argument,  but  were 
too  obstinate  to  confess  it ;  and  some  of  them  were  so  refractory  that 
it  was  deemed  necessary  to  imprison  them.  Having  been  thus  far  tri- 
umphant, the  protestants  proceeded  to  their  ultimate  and  most  important 
step;  and  a  bill  was  passed  by  which  the  mass  was  abolished,  and  the 
liturgy  of  King  Edward  re-established ;  and  penalties  were  enacted 
against  all  who  should  either  absent  themselves  from  worship  or  depart 
from  the  order  here  laid  down.  Before  the  conclusion  of  the  session, 
the  parliament  gave  a  still  farther  proof  of  its  attachment  to  the  queen, 


619 


THE  TaBASURY  OF  HI8T0KY. 


and  of  ill  dusire  to  aid  her  in  her  designs,  by  voting  her  a  subsidy  iv 
four  shillings  in  the  pound  on  land,  and  two-and-eignt-pence  on  goods 
with  two  fifteenths.  Well  knowing  all  the  dangers  of  a  disputed  sue 
cession,  the  parliament  at  the  same  time  petitioned  her  to  choose  a  hus 
band.  But  tlie  queen,  though  she  acknowledged  that  the  petition  was 
couched  in  terms  so  general  and  so  respectful  that  she  could  not  take 
any  offence  ut  it,  protested  that,  always  uiidesirous  of  changing  her  con. 
dition,  slie  was  anxious  only  to  be  the  wife  of  England  and  the  mother 
of  the  English,  and  had  no  higher  ambition  than  to  have  for  her  epitaph, 
"  Here  lies  Elizabeth,  who  lived  and  died  a  maiden  queen." 

A.  o.  1559. — The  parliament  just  prorogued  had,  as  we  have  shown,  got 
through  a  vast  deal  of  important  business  in  the  session  ;  but  though  that 
was  the  first  session  of  a  new  reign,  a  reign,  too,  immediately  following  one 
in  which  such  horrors  of  tyrannous  cruelty  had  been  enacted,  it  is  to  be  re- 
marked,  to  the  praise  of  the  moderation  of  both  queen  and  parliament,  that 
not  a  single  bill  of  attainder  was  passed,  though  some  attaints  by  former 
parliaments  were  mercifully  or  justly  removed. 

While  the  queen  liad  been  thus  wisely  busy  at  home,  she  had  been  no 
less  active  abroad.  Sensible  that  her  kingdom  required  a  long  season  of 
repose  to  enable  it  to  regain  its  power,  she  ordered  her  ambassadors, 
Lord  Effingham  and  the  bishop  of  Ely,  to  conclude  peace  with  France  on 
any  terms;  and  peace  was  accordingly  concluded.  But  as  the  marriage 
of  Henry  and  Anne  Boleyn  had  been  concluded  in  open  opposition  to 
Rome,  France  chose  to  deem  Elizabeth  wrongfully  seated  upon  the 
throne ;  and  the  duke  of  Guise  and  his  brothers,  seeing  that  Mary,  queen 
of  Scots,  the  wife  of  the  dauphin,  would — supposing  Elizabeth  out  of  the 
question — be  the  rightful  heir,  persuaded  the  king  of  France  to  order  his 
son  and  his  daughter-in-law  to  assume  both  the  title  and  the  arms  of 
England.  The  death  of  Henry  of  France  at  a  tournament  not  being  fol- 
lowed by  any  abandonment  on  the  part  of  Mary  and  her  husband,  then 
Francis  il.  of  France,  of  this  most  unwarrantable  and  insulting  assump. 
tion,  Elizabeth  was  stung  into  the  commencement  of  that  deadly  hatred 
which  subsequently  proved  so  fatal  to  the  fairer  but  less  prudent  Mary  of 
Scotland. 

A.  n.  1561. — The  situation  of  Scotland  and  the  circumstances  which 
occurred  there  at  this  period  will  be  found  in  all  necessary  detail  under 
the  proper  head.  Il  will  suffice  to  say,  here,  that  tne  theological  and  civil 
disputes  that  raged  fiercely  among  the  turbulent  and  warlike  nobility  ot 
Scotland  and  their  respective  followers,  plunged  that  country  into  a  state 
of  confusion,  which  encouraged  Elizabeth  in  her  hope  of  extorting  from 
Mary,  now  a  widow,  a  clear  and  satisfactory  abandonment  of  her  assump- 
tion ;  an  abandonment  which,  indeed,  had  been  made  for  her  by  a  treiUy 
at  Edinburgh,  which  treaty  Elizabeth  now,  through  Throgmorton,  her 
ambassador,  demanded  that  Mary  should  ratify.  But  wilfulness  and  a 
certain  petty  womanly  pique  determined  Mary  to  refuse  this,  although 
immediately  on  the  death  of  her  husband  she  had  laid  aside  both  the  title 
and  the  arms  of  queen  of  England. 

Mary's  residence  in  France,  meanwhile,  had  become  very  disagreeable 
to  her  from  the  ill-offices  of  the  queen  mother,  and  she  resolved  to  com- 
ply with  the  invitation  of  the  states  of  Scotland  to  return  to  that  kingdom. 
She  accordingly  ordered  her  ambassador,  D'Oisel,  to  apply  to  Elizibeth 
for  a  safe  conduct  through  England ;  but  Elizabeth,  through  Throgmorton, 
refused  compliance  with  that  request,  except  on  condition  of  .Mary's  rat- 
location  of  the  treaty  of  Edinburgh.  Mary  remonstrated  in  so-'ere  though 
chastened  terms,  and  immediately  determined  upon  procoeding  to  Scot- 
land by  sea,  for  which  purpose  she  embarked  at  Calais.  Elizabeth  at  the 
same  time  sent  out  cruisers,  ostensibly  to  pursue  pirates,  but,  as  it  should 
seem,  with  the  intention  of  seizing  upon  the  person  of  Mary,  who,  how- 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


619 


pvpr,  passed  ihroiiffh  the  English  squadron  in  a  fog,  and  arrived  RuMy  at 
Lcith.  But  though  safe,  Mary  was  far  from  happy.  Sho  had  lovfd  I'rance 
wilh  even  more  than  a  native's  love,  and  only  ceased  to  gaze  upon  its  re- 
cpdiiig  siiores  when  they  were  hidden  by  the  darkness  of  night.  The 
manners  of  the  French  were  agreeable  to  her ;  sho  had  become,  as  it  were, 
"native  and  to  the  manor  born,"  in  that  land  of  gaiety  and  frivniity  ;  and 
all  tliat  she  heard  of  the  stern  harsh  bigotry  of  the  predominant  party  m 
Scotland,  led  her  to  anticipate  nothing  but  the  most  wearisome  and  mel- 
aiiciioly  feelings.  Her  youth,  her  beauty,  her  many  accomphshments, 
and,  above  all,  the  novelty  of  seein^^  their  sovereign  once  more  among 
them,  caused  the  Soots  to  give  her  a  most  joyful  and  affectionate  recep- 
tion. Her  first  measures  were  well  calculated  to  confirm  the  favourable 
opinion  which  her  people  appeared  to  entertain.  She  gave,  at  least  osten- 
sibly, all  her  confidence  and  nearly  all  her  attention  to  the  leaders  of  the 
reformed  party,  who,  indeed,  had  now  complete  power  over  llio  great 
mass  of  the  Scottish  people.  Secretary  Lidilington  and  her  brother.  Lord 
James,  whom  she  created  earl  of  Murray,  ably  seconded  her  endeavourg 
to  introduce  something  like  order  into  that  land  so  long  and  so  grievously 
torn  by  faction  and  strife,  and  as  the  measures  taken  were  at  once  firm 
and  conciliatory,  everything  seemed  to  promise  success. 

Bnt  there  was,  amidst  all  this  seeming  promise  of  better  times,  one 
fatal  element  which  rendered  her  success  nearly  impossible.  Bigotry  in 
England  was  personified  mildness  and  moderation,  compared  to  the  in- 
Innse  and  envenomed  bigotry  which  at  that  time  existed  in  Scotland. 
Mary  on  her  first  entrance  into  Scotland  had  issued  an  order  that  every 
one  should  submit  to  the  reformed  religion.  But  she  herself  was  still  a 
papist ;  and  scarcely  was  the  first  joy  of  her  arrival  subsided  when  the 
reformed  preachers  began  to  denounce  her  on  that  account.  The  celebra- 
tion of  catholic  rites  in  her  own  chapel  would  have  been  sternly  refused 
lier  by  tlie  zealous  preachers  and  tlicir  zealous  followers,  had  not  the  mul- 
titude been  induced  to  side  by  her  in  that  matter,  for  fear  of  her  returning 
to  France  in  disgust.  But  even  that  consideration  did  not  prevent  the 
preachers  and  some  of  their  followers  from  proceeding  to  the  most  out- 
rageous  lengths;  and  this  single  consideration  sulficedto  throw  the  whoh 
Scottish  people  into  confusion  and  uneasiness. 

Wisely  chary  of  expense,  and  profoundly  politic,  Elizabeth  saw  that 
the  bigotry  of  Mary's  subjects  would  find  that  princess  other  employment 
tnan  that  of  making  any  attempt  to  disturb  the  peace  of  England.  She 
therefore  turned  her  attention  to  improving  the  arts,  commerce,  navy,  and 
artillery  of  England  ;  and  with  so  much  judgment,  and  with  such  frreat  as 
well  as  rapid  success,  that  she  well  merited  the  title  that  was  bestowed 
upon  her,  of  "the  restorer  of  naval  glory  and  queen  of  the  northern  seas." 
Her  spirit  and  prudence  had  naturally  enough  en<rouraged  foreign  princes 
to  believe,  thai  though  she  had  in  some  sort  pledged  herself  to  a  maiden 
life,  it  was  not  impossible  to  dissuade  her  from  persevering  in  that  reso- 
Uition.  The  archduke  Charles,  second  son  of  the  emperor  ;  Casimir,  son 
of  the  elector  palatine  ;  Eric,  king  of  Sweden ;  Adolph,  duke  of  Holstein  ; 
and  the  earl  of  Arran,  presumptive  heir  to  the  crown  of  Scotland,  were 
among  the  suitors  for  her  hand.  Nor  were  there  wanting  aspirants  to  that 
high  and  envied  honour  even  among  her  own  subjects.  The  earl  of  Arun- 
del, thoiigli  old  enough  to  be  her  father,  and  Sir  William  Pic^kering  were 
among  those  who  flattered  themselves  with  hope ;  as  was  Lord  Robert 
Dudley,  a  son  of  the  ambitious  duke  of  Northumberland,  beheaded  in  the 
reign  of  Mary;  and  as  the  fine  person  and  showy  accomplishments  of  this 
last  caused  the  queen  to  treat  him  with  more  favour  and  confidence  than 
his  actual  talents  seemed  to  warrant  from  so  acute  a  judge  of  men's  mer- 
its as  Elizabeth,  it  was  for  some  time  very  generally  imagined  that  he  was 
a  favoured  lover.  But  the  queen  answered  all  addresses  with  a  refusal* 
Vol.  1 33 


fl4 


TUB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


tnd  yri  not  such  a  rcfudal  an  to  utterly  drHlroy  ihiit  fueling  of  attachment 
which  was  ho  useful  to  her  as  HqutM-n,  and— can  we  doubt  it  '— m»  agtci:. 
■bin  as  well  as  f1atterin|{  to  her  as  a  woman  1     Hut  though  iOlizahfih  ap. 

C eared  to  b»!  decidedly  diHincIined  to  marriage,  no'':-ng  appeared  to  oircn,! 
er  more  than  the  marriage  of  any  who  had  pretensions  to  nuoeced  lur. 
A  remarkable  instanre  of  this  occurred  in  the  case  of  the  lady  Catlieriiif; 
Gray,  youngest  sister  of  the  hapless  ludy  Jano.  This  lady  married,  m 
necond  nuptials,  the  ear)  of  Hertford,  son  of  the  protector  Somerset,  ni\,[^ 
the  lady  proving  pregnant,  Elizabeth  confined  both  husband  and  wife  m' 
the  Tower,  where  they  remained  for  nine  years.  At  the  end  of  that  liiuR 
the  countess  died,  and  then  the  queen  at  length  gave  the  persecuted  earl 
his  liberty. 

A.  D.  1562. — Besides  all  considerations  of  his  personal  and  ineradicable 
bigotry,  Philip  of  Spain  had  yet  another  motive  for  fulfilling  the  vuw 
which,  on  escaping  from  a  violent  tempest,  he  had  made,  to  do  all  that  in 
him  lay  for  the  extirpation  of  heresy.     Of  that  '*  heresy"  Elizabeth,  by 
the  common  consent  not  only  of  her  own  subjects  but  of  the  proiestuats 
of  all  Europe,  was  looked  upon  as  the  child  and  champion;  and  her rejei;. 
tion  of  Philip's  hand,  and  her  consequent  baflling  of  all  his  hopes  of  ob- 
taining sway  ov'T  England,  had  excited  his  gloomy  and  vindictive  nature 
to  a  fierce  and  personal  hatred.    In  every  negotiation,  under  every  circum- 
stance, ho  made  his  hatred  to  the  queen  appear  in  his  virulent  and  obstj. 
nate  opposition  to  the  interests  of  England.    Not  content  with  the  must 
violent  persecution  of  the  protestunts  wherever  his  own  authority  could 
be  stretched  to  reach  them,  he  lent  his  aid  to  the  queen  mother  of  France, 
That  aid  so  fearfully  turned  the  scale  against  the  French  Huguenots,  that 
their  chivalrous  leader,  the  prince  of  Cond6,  was  fain  to  apply  for  aid  to 
the  prolestant  queen  of  England.    Though  during  the  whole  of  her  long 
and  glorious  reign,  Elizabeth  was  wisely  chary  of  involving  herself  in 
great  expenses,  the  cause  of  protestantism  would  probably  of  itself  have 
been  too  dear  to  her  to  allow  of  her  hesitating.     But  the  prince  of  Coud^ 
appealed  to  her  interest  as  well  as  to  her  religious  sympathies.    Tlie  Hu- 
guenots possessed  nearly  the  whole  of  Normandy  ;  and  Coiide  proffered 
to  give  Elizabeth  possession  of  Havre-de-Graee,  on  condition  tliai  she 
should  put  a  garrison  of  three  thousand  men  into  that  place,  send  three 
thousand  men  to  garrison  Dieppe  and  Ronen,  and  supply  money  to  the 
amount  of  a  hundred  thousand  crowns.     The  ofTer  was  tompting.    True 
it  was  that  the  French  were  by  treaty  bound  to  restore  Calais,  hut  there 
were  many  reasons  for  doubting  whether  that  agreement  would  he  fulfil- 
led.     Possessed  of  Havre,  and  thus  commanding,  the  mouth  of  liie  SeiMe, 
England  would  be  the  more  likely  to  be  able  to  command  the  resiituiiou 
of  Calais;  the  offer  of  Conde  was  accordingly  accepted.     Havre  aud 
Dieppe  were  immediately  garrisoned,  but  the  latter  place  was  speedily 
found  to  be  untenable,  and  evacuated  accordingly.   To  Rouen  tlie  calliolies 
were  laying  siege,  and  it  was  with  great  difficulty  that  I'oynings  threw  iii 
a  small  reinforcement  of  English  to  aid  the  Huguenot  garrison.    Thus 
aided  the  Huguenots  fought  bravely  and  well,  but  were  at  length  over- 
powered and  put  to  the  sword.    About  the  same  time  three  Ihousaiui  more 
English  arrived  to  the  support  of  Havre,  under  the  command  of  the  ead 
of  Warwick,  eldest  brother  of  the  Lord  Robert  Dudley.     With  this  aid 
and  a. second  sum  of  a  hundred  thousand  crowns,  the  Huguenots,  though 
severely  beaten  near  Dreux,  where  Condd  and  Montmorency  were  taken 
prisoners  by  the  catholics,  still  kept  well  together,  and  even  took  some 
considerable  towns  in  Normandy. 

A.  D.  1.563.— How  sincerely  desirous  Elizabeth  was  of  effectually  aiding 
the  Huguenots  will  appear  from  the  fact  that,  while  she  had  thus  assisted 
them  with  anumeiui.o  uuuy  of  admirable  troops  and  with  two  hundred 
thousand  crowns,  as  well  as  profTeied  her  bond  fur  another  hui.ured  tbou- 


ib\> 


TUB  TRBASURY  OK  HISTORY. 


5l5 


•offered 
tliat  she 
end  three 
10  the 
True 
t)iU  llifire 
he  fulfil- 
the  Seine, 
ituiioii 
IV  re  ami 
spi'eilily 
ciitholies 
threw  in 
I.    Tims 
sjlli  over- 
lid  more 
f  the  carl 
this  aid 
is,  though 
ere  taken 
ook  some 

xlly  aiding 
IS  assisted 
0  hundred 
jred  ibou- 


»pnd  i<  morchaiits  rniild  be  found  to  li'iid  tlio  ainouiit,  she  was  now  so 
imor  tli-it  8l»'  ^v^"  ol'ligcd  to  flumiiioii  a  piirliaiin-iit  Hiid  (l«>rii:iiid  a-«HiHt,tiict*. 
This  di'iiiaiid  l(;d  to  a  renewal  of  llio  (larliainnit's  nqtietit  that  .she  would 
marry,  f^l"-'  l>'*'l  ^<-<'i>  daiiK^rously  ill  of  the  sniall-pox,  and  her  peril  had 
re-awakened  all  the  national  terrorH  of  the  eviin  inseparable  from  u  diit. 
puted  Bncce.ssion.  The  parliament,  conse(|(ienlly,  now  added  to  its  peti- 
tion, that  .she  would  marry,  the  ultemative,  tliat  she  would  at  least  eause 
her  sueceitsor  to  be  clearly  and  finally — suve  in  the  event  of  her  nuirryini; 
and  having  issue — named  by  an  act  of  parliament. 

Noihiujf  could  have  been  less  agreealde  to  the  queen  than  this  petition. 
She  well  knew  the  claim  of  Mary  of  Scotland,  and  shrewdly  judged  that 
the  being  named  as  her  successor  would  not  dimmish  the  inclination  of 
tliat  queen  to  give  her  disturbance.  On  the  other  hand,  to  deny  that  cl-iiin 
and  to  decide  in  favour  of  the  house  of  Suffolk,  would  be  to  incite  Mary 
to  instant  enmity,  and  at  the  same  time  to  create  in  another  quarter  the 
impatience,  rarely  uinnixed  with  enmity,  of  the  declared  successor,  la 
this  dilemma  siie  acted  with  hor  usual  caution  and  policy;  gave  the  par- 
liament to  understand  that  she  had  by  no  means  irrevocably  made  up  her 
mind  a^'ainst  marriage,  and  assured  inem,  in  general  terms,  iliat  she  ,,ould 
nut  die  with  any  satisfaction  until  she  hud  settled  the  succeitsion  on  solid 
and  sati.sfactory  foundations. 

The  parliament,  sincerely  attached  to  tho  queen,  and.  besides,  well 
aware  that  her  temper  would  but  ill  bear  aught  that  bore  the  appearance 
of  iiiiporlunity  or  of  dictation,  was  obliged  to  be  contented,  or  seemingly 
go,  with  this  reply;  and  proceeded  to  busy  itself  in  passing  needlesslv 
severe  laws  against  th'  catholics,  and  ridiculously  severe  laws  against 
tho.se  imaginary  and  impossible  offenders,  witches  and  wizards.  A  sub- 
sidy and  two  fifteenths,  and  a  subsidy  of  six  shillings  in  the  jmund,  tiio 
last  to  be  paid  in  three  years,  were  then  voted  to  tho  queen,  and  parlia- 
ment was  again  prorogued. 

After  long  and  mutually  cruel  butcheries  the  French  Huguenots  and 
catholics  came  to  an  agreement.  An  amnesty  and  partial  toleration  of 
the  Huguenots  was  published  by  the  court,  and  Cond6  was  reinstated  in 
his  appointments.  To  the  great  discredit  of  this  gailani  leader,  liis  own 
and  his  party's  interests  were  never  attended  to  by  him,  almost  to  the 
entire  forgetfulness  of  his  agreements  made  with  Klizabeth  when  she 
so  nobly  and  liberally  assisted  him.  He  stipulated,  indeed,  that  she  should 
be  repaid  her  expenses,  but  in  return  she  was  to  i;ive  up  Havre,  and  trust, 
as  before,  for  the  restitution  of  Calais  to  that  treaty  which  the  French  had 
so  evidently  resolved  upon  breaking.  Enraged  at  (-'onde's  breach  of  faitii, 
and  believing  the  possession  of  Havre  to  be  her  best  if  not  her  solo 
security  for  the  restitution  of  Calais,  Elizabeth  rejected  these  terms  with 
disdain,  and  sent  orders  to  the  earl  of  Warwick  to  take  every  prccautiort 
to  defend  Havre  from  the  attacks  of  the  now  united  French. 

Warwick,  in  obedience  to  these  orders,  expelled  all  French  from  that 
place,  and  prepared  to  defend  himself  against  a  large  French  army,  en- 
couraged by  tho  presence  of  the  queen  mother,  the  king,  the  constabi;!  of 
France,  and  Conde  himself.  But  the  courage,  vigour  and  ability  of  War- 
wick, which  promised  to  baffle  all  attempts  upon  Havre,  or  at  Ic.ist  lo 
make  it  a  right  dear  purchase  to  the  enemy,  were  counterbalanced  by  the 
breaking  out  among  his  men  of  a  most  fatal  and  pestilential  sickness. 
Seeing  them  die  daily  of  this  terrible  disease,  which  was  much  aggravated 
by  the  great  scarcity  of  provisions,  Warwick  urgently  demanded  a  rein- 
forcement and  supplies  from  England.  But  these  being  withheld,  and  the 
French  having  succeeded  ii.  making  two  practical  breaches,  the  earl  had 
no  alternative  but  to  capitulate,  and  he  was  obliged  to  surrender  the  place 
upon  the  sole  condition  of  being  allowed  life  and  safe  conduct  for  his 
troops.    He  had  hardly  surrendered  when  a  reinforcement  of  three  thou 


510 


TIIK  TRKASURY  oHImSTORY. 


FWII 


inn'l  mm  arrived  from  Knt^Iaiid  under  Lord  C'liiitoii,  but,  hc«idcB  Ihnt  they 
were  too  lute,  tliey  alMO  were  aufTcniig  uinler  llie  plaKUo  wliirh  at  ij.at 
period  rajjed  in  KiiglHtid.  As  a  eoiiHe(|urnfe  of  the  loss  of  Havre,  Kllja. 
bcth  waH  glad  to  coimetit  to  rmtort  tiic;  hostagen  given  hy  France  fur  the 
re^tilution  of  ('nliii«,  on  reeeiviiig  two  hundred  und  twenty  thouiaiid 
rrownx;  hut  it  was  atipiilatod  that  nothing  in  thio  transaction  should  be 
held  to  prejudice  the  claim  of  either  nation. 

Tlumgh  in  reality  ihe  hatred  and  jeiilousy  that  subsisted  between  Elij. 
abeth  and  Mary  queen  of  Snots  were  biiter  and  constant,  nothing  of  quarrel 
had  as  yet  been  openly  allowed  to  appear.  They  corresponded  weekly 
and  assumed  quite  a  sisterly  tone  of  aflcction.  So  fur  was  this  decepiivt; 
conduct  carried  on  tlie  part  of  Elizabeth,  that  Males,  a  lawyer,  hHvinjf 
piiblisiu'd  a  book  opposing  the  title  of  Mary  as  Kli/ubclh*8  successor,  was 
fined  and  imprisoned  ;  and  Dacon,  the  lord  keeper,  on  the  mere  suspiciuti 
of  having  rncournged  that  publicatron,  was  visited  for  some  time  with  the 
queen's  displeasure.  An  interview  was  even  appointed  to  take  place  be- 
tween the  two  queens  at  York,  but  Elizabeth,  probably  not  very  anxious 
to  let  her  subjects  see  Mary's  superiority  of  personal  beauty,  pleaded 
public  affairs,  and  the  meeting  was  abandoned. 

A  new  source  of  care  arose  for  Elizabeth.  Mary,  yoimg  and  lovely, 
and  of  no  frigid  temperament,  was  natiirnlly  not  diHinulined  to  a  sccutid 
marriage  ;  and  her  uncle's  restless  ambition  would  scarcely  have  allowid 
her  to  remain  unmarried  even  had  she  been  so.  To  prevent  Mary's  miir- 
riage  was  obviously  not  in  Elizabeth's  power ;  but  as  she,  at  least,  had 
the  power  of  getting  her  formally  excluded  from  the  English  succession, 
Bhe  thought  it  n(»t  so  impossible  in  the  first  instance  to  procrastumte 
M  ly's  choice,  and  then  to  cause  it  to  fall  on  the  least  likely  person  to  aid 
and  encourage  her  in  any  attempts  prejudicial  to  England.  With  this 
view  she  raised  objections,  now  of  one  and  now  of  another  sort,  ajrujnst 
the  aspirants  to  Mary's  hand,  and  at  length  named  Lord  Robert  Dudley, 
her  own  subject,  and,  as  some  thought,  her  own  unfavoured  suitor,  as  the 
pers(m  upon  whom  it  would  be  most  agreeable  to  her  that  Mary's  choice 
should  fall. 

The  Lord  Robert  Dudley — aa  the  reader  has  hitherto  known  him,  but 
who  had  now  been  created  earl  of  Leicester — was  handsome,  greatly  and 
generally  acconiplislied,  and  possessed  the  art  of  flattery  in  its  utmost 

Eerfcction ;  an  art  to  which,  far  more  than  to  his  solid  merits,  lie  owed 
is  power  of  concealing  from  F)lizabeth  his  ambition,  rapacity,  and  iiitoler- 
able  haughtiness,  or  of  reconciling  her  to  them.  The  great  and  continued 
favour  shown  to  him  by  the  queen  had  made  himself  as  well  as  the  multj. 
tude  imagine,  that  he  might  reasonably  hope  to  be  honoured  with  her 
hand;  and  it  was  even  believed  that  the  early  death  of  his  young  and 
lovely  wife,  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  gentleman  named  Robsart,  had 
been  planned  and  ordered  by  the  earl,  in  order  to  remove  what  he  deemed 
the  sole  obstacle  to  the  success  of  his  loftier  views.  To  so  ambitious  a 
man,  whatever  the  personal  superiority  of  Mary  over  Elizabeth,  the  crown 
matrimonial  of  Scotland  must  have  seemed  a  poor  substitute,  indeed,  to 
that  of  England ;  and  Leicester  not  only  objected  to  the  proposal,  but 
attributed  its  conception  to  a  deep  scheme  of  his  able  and  bitter  enemy, 
Cecil,  to  deprive  him  of  his  influence  by  weaning  Elizabeth  froir.  all  per- 
Bonal  feeling  for  him,  and  causing  her  to  identify  him  with  her  rival  M.iry. 
The  queen  of  Scotland,  on  the  other  hand,  wearied  with  the  long  and 
vexatious  delays  and  vacillations  of  Elizabeth,  and  influenced  perhaps,  by 
the  personal  beauty  and  accomplishments  of  the  earl,  as  well  as  anxious 
by  her  marriage  with  him  to  remove  Elizabeth's  evident  reluctance  to 
naming  her  to  the  English  succession,  intimated  her  willingness  to  accept 
the  powerful  favourite.  But  Elizabeth  had  named  him  only  in  the  hope 
that  he  would  be  rejected ;  he  was  too  great  a  favourite  to  be  parted  witn 


TUB  TERASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


517 


and  though  ihc  had  heritfir  (iistiiictly  riuincd  ilio  eurt  as  the  ottly  iimii 
Hhoiii  »ho  dliotild  chuox!  (o  Mrt;  the  huabaiid  of  Mary,  bhu  iiuw  coldly  au  J 
luildcniy  wtthdrcw  hor  uppruhatioii. 

The  hifftii  and  id'vit  too  prudtMit,  hoirit  of  Mary  iinturally  revidted  from 
this  now  proof  of  duplicit'  ....v!  uiifrictidly  fceliM({;  the  corri<ii|)<iiid«;itcv 
brtwcrn  th<<  rival  ((uctMia  ((rcw  lesH  fn-quent  and  more  curt  and  forinul, 
ami  at  Icti^Mh  for  a  time  wholly  ccaacd.  liiit  Mary,  probably  under  the 
advic*!  of  lu-r  friends  in  Kraacc,  retiolvcd  to  make  yet  anollicr  efTorl  to 
avoid  a  final  and  irremediable  breach  with  Klizabeth,  ami  for  that  purpoHo 
lent  Sir  James  Melvil  on  a  miM^ion  to  Iiondon. 

KuKliKhmt'ii  are  greatly  and  Ju.<«lly  proud  ot  queen  Klizabcth ;  taken  aa 
a  whole  her  rei|;n  waa  one  of  the  greatest  and  wiatKl  in  our  history.     Uut 
even  making  all  ull  >wunco  for  tiiu  prejudice  Melvil  may  be  supposed  to 
have  felt  !i(;ainst   Kliz.'beth,  the  account  he  ^ives  of  what  he  sasv  of  her 
conduct  on  this  occasion  nlaces  her  in  so  weak,  so  vain,  so  puerile  a  liuhl, 
that,  would  ri^'id  impartiality  allow  it,  one  would  uladly  overlook  this  por- 
lion  of  our  great  Klizabeth  8  reign  altog»!ther.     Kvery  day  bIu'  appeared 
in  some  new  style  of  dress,  every  interview  was  marked  by  8(»me  question 
as  to  tlie  diflTerence  in  feature,  person,  or  .nanner  between  herself  and  her 
far  lovelier,  far  nutre  accomplished,  but  far  les  s  worthy  and  h^ss  e-.timable 
rival,  which  is  infinitelv  nH>rc  characteristic  ui  the  petty  but  aching  envy 
of  sonic  ill-natured  school-girl,  with  vanity  made  only  the  more  restless 
and  craving  of  flnttcry  from  the  occasional  suggestions  of  s'.rewder  sense 
on  the  score  of  personal  inferiority,  than  of  thai,  high-souied  and  calm- 
browed  queen  who  knew  how  to  endure  a  dung(!i;ii  and  to'^are  an  ar   i  ida. 
An  accomplished  courtier,  Melvil  was  also  a  shrewd  and  practise     Mian 
of  the  world;  and  it  is  quite  clear,  from  his  memoirs,  that  he  Ba^    '1  -ongh 
Elizabeth  alike  in  the  weakness  of  her  vanity,  and  in  the  8tn!ii|>    t  ;»f  her 
deep  and  iron  dctennination.     His  report,  and  probably  'till  her  friends' 
advice  and  her  own   inclination,  detennined  Mary  no    .  iij,-<r  to  hesitate 
about  choosing  a  husband  for  herself.     Lord  D.irnie^,  -on  ..'j'  the  earl  of 
Lenox,  cousin-germaii  to  Mary  by  the  lady  Margaret  Douglas,  niece  of 
Henry  VII L,  was  by  all  parties  in  Scotland  considered  a  very  suitable  per- 
gun.     He  was  of  the  same  family  as  Mary;  was,  after  her,  next  heir  to 
the  crown  of  England,  and  would  preserve  the  crown  of  Scotland  in  the 
house  of  Stuart.     While  these  considerations  made  him  eligible  in  the 
eyes  of  Mary's  family  and  of  all  Scotchmen,  he  had  be<;n  born  and  edu- 
cated in  Eiifjlaiid,  and  it  was  therefore  not  to  be  supposed  that  Kiizabeth  . 
could  have  luiy  of  that  jealousy  towards  him  which  she  might  have  felt  in 
the  case  of  a  foreign  prince  anil  a  papist.     And,  in  truth,  perceiving  that  it 
was  not  to  be  hoped  that  Mary  would  remain  single,  Elizabeth  was  not  ill 
pleased  that  Mary's  choice  should  fall  upon   Darnley.      He  could  add 
nothing  in  the  way  of  power  or  alliance  to  the  Scottish  queen,  whose  mar- 
riage with  him  would  at  once  release  Elizabeth  from  the  h-ilf-defuied 
jealousy  fche  felt  as  to  Leicester's  real  se  "Mneiits,  and  would,  at  the  same 
time,  do  away  with  all  dread  of  the  queen  'i  ?' jots  forming  any  one  of  the 
numerous  foreign  alliances  which  were  opun  to  her,  and  aiiy  mwj  of  which 
would  be  dangerous  to  England. 

Lenox  had  been  long  in  exile.  Elizabeth  now  secretly  advised  Mary 
to  recall  him,  reverse  his  attainder,  and  restore  his  forfeited  possessions; 
but  no  sooner  was  this  done  than  she  openly  blamed  the  proceedings, 
with  the  view  at  once  of  emharn  ismg  Mary  and  of  k.'eping  up  her  own 
interest  with  the  opposite  faction  in  Scotland.  Her  c'»iplicity  did  not  stop 
here.  When  the  negotiations  for  the  marriage  were  far  advanced,  Darn- 
ley  asked  Elizabeth's  permission  to  go  into  Scotland  ;  and  that  permission 
was,  to  all  appearance,  cheerfully  granted,  ilut  when  she  learned  that 
Ills  handsome  person  was  admirc^l  by  Mary  and  that  the  marriage  was 
fuUv  determined  on,  she  sent  tu    ider  Darnley  on  i:o  account  to  go  on 


518 


THK  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


with  the  marriage,  but,  on  his  allegiance,  to  return  to  England  forlhwitn. 
Compliance  with  such  caprice  and  tyranny  was  out  of  the  question;  and 
Elizabeth  threw  the  countess  of  Lenox  and  her  second  son  into  prison, 
and  seized  all  Lenox's  Flni^lish  property  without  the  shadow  of  a  plea 
beyond  the  conduct  of  young  Darnley,  to  which  she  had  deliberately  given 
her  sanction  !  The  insulting  vacillation  of  Elizabeth's  conduct  in  a  matter 
of  such  delicate  interest  to  Mary,  can  only  be  reconciled  with  her  usimi 
shrewdness  by  supposing  that,  independent  of  any  small  feminine  spiteful- 
ness  of  which  we  fear  that  even  the  utmost  partiality  can  hardly  acquis 
her,  she  deliberately,  and  as  a  matter  of  deep,  though  merciless  policy, 
sought  thus  to  obtain  a  plea  upon  which  to  repudiate  Mary  as  her  succes. 
sor  in  England,  and  a  ready  means  of  stirritig  up  discontents  among  Mary'g 
own  subjects,  and  thus  preventing  them  from  being  troublesotne  to  Kiig 
land. 

A.  D.  1565. — Mary's  relatior  "hip  to  the  house  of  Guise,  whose  detesta 
tton  of  the  reformed  religion  was  so  widely  known  and  so  terribly  attested, 
was  very  unfortunate  for  her;  inasmuch  as  it  converted  her  warm  attucli- 
meiit  to  her  own  religion  into  something  like  bigotry  and  intolerance. 
She  not  only  refused  to  ratify  the  acts  establishing  the  reformed  religion, 
and  endeavoured  to  restore  civil  power  and  jurisdiction  to  the  catholjR 
bishops,  but  was  even  imprudent  enough  to  write  letters  to  the  council  of 
Trent,  in  which  she  professed  her  hope  not  merely  of  one  day  succeeding 
to  the  cTOwn  of  England,  but  also  of  so  using  her  power  and  influence  as 
to  bring  about  the  reconciliation  of  the  whole  of  her  dominions  tu  the 
holy  see.  Considering  her  knowledge  of  Elizabeth's  ten^per  and  feelings 
towards  her,  and  considering,  too,  how  much  advantage  Elizabeth  would 
obviously  obtain  from  every  circumstance  which  could  cause  the  Scotch 
zealots  to  sympathize  with  Elizabeth  against  their  own  queen,  nothing 
could  well  have  been  more  imprudent  than  this  missive.  Under  any  cir° 
cumstances,  probably,  Mary,  a  zealous  catholic,  would  have  had  but  an 
uneasy  reign  atnong  the  fiercely  bigoted  Scottish  protestants;  but  thpre 
is  little  reason  to  doubt  that  this  very  communication  to  the  council  of 
Trent  was  a  main  first  cause  of  all  her  subsequent  misfortunes.  The 
protestants  of  Scotland  were  at  that  time  no  whit  behind  the  catholics  of 
any  part  of  the  world,  either  in  self-righteousness,  or  in  bitter  and  bigoted 
detestation  of  all  who  chanced  to  diflfer  from  them.  Alarmed  as  well  as 
indignant  at  the  queen's  ostentatious  attachment  to  her  own  creed,  the 
protestants  not  only  murmurnd  at  her  exercise  of  its  rites,  even  in  her 
own  private  residence  and  chapel,  but  abused  her  faith  in  the  grossest 
terms  while  importuning  her  to  abjure  it.  The  queen  answered  these 
rude  advisers  with  a  temper  which,  had  she  always  displayed  it,  injirhi 
have  spared  her  many  a  sorrowful  day  ;  assured  them  that  besides  that 
her  apostacy  would  deprive  Scotland  of  her  most  powerful  friends 
on  the  continent,  she  was  sincerely  attached  to  her  own  faith  and  con- 
vinced of  its  truth.  With  the  self-complacency  peculiar  to  narrow 
minded  bigotry,  the  remonstrants  assured  her  that  they  alone  had  truth  on 
their  side,  and  bade  her  prefer  that  truth  to  all  earthly  support  and  alli- 
ances. The  rude  zeal  of  the  reformed  was  still  farther  increased  by  the 
belief,  carefully  encouraged  by  the  agents  of  Klizabeth,  that  the  Lenox 
family  were  also  papists.  It  was  in  vain  that  Darnley,  now  King  Henry, 
endeavoured  to  show  that  he  was  no  papist  by  frequently  makin;;  liis  ap- 
pearance at  the  established  church;  this  conduct  was  attributed  to  a  Jesu- 
itical and  profound  wiliness,aiid  the  preachers  often  publicly  insidted  him 
Knox,  especially,  not  scrupling  to  tell  him  from  the  pulpit  that  hoys  and 
women  were  only  put  to  ruleoveriiations  for  the  punishment  of  their  sins. 

While  llie  violence  of  the  clergy  and  the  arts  of  Elizabeth's  einissiiries 
were  thus  irritating  the  common  people  of  Scotland  against  their  queen, 
Uio  discontents  of  her  nobility  began  to  threaten  her  with  a  yet  nearer  and 


THK  TRKASrrRY  OF  HISTORY. 


619 


more  ruinous  opposition.  The  duke  of  Cliiiternult  and  the  earls  of  Mur- 
ray and  Argyloi,  with  other  malcontent  nobles,  actually  raised  forces,  and 
soon  appeared  in  arms  against  the  kin^  and  queen,  instigated  to  this 
treasonable  conduct  merely  by  their  paltry  fears  of  being  losers  of  influ- 
eiioe  and  power  by  the  rise  of  the  Lenox  family  consequent  upon  L'am- 
Icy's  marriage  to  the  queen.  The  reformed  preachers  openly,  and  En- 
glish emissaries  secretly,  aided  the  malcontent  lords  in  endeavouring  to 
seduce  or  urge  the  whole  Scottish  population  from  its  allegiance.  Dut  the 
people  were,  for  once,  in  no  humour  to  follow  the  seditious  or  the  fanati- 
ca. ;  and  after  but  very  trifling  show  of  success,  the  rebels,  being  pursued 
by  tlie  king  and  queen  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  eighteen  thousand,  were 
fain  to  seek  safety  in  England. 

We  dwell  more  upon  the  affairs  of  Scotland  just  at  this  period  ti.an  we 
generally  do,  because  thun  much  of  Scotlisli  history  is  necessary  he.>  to 
the  understanding  of  that  portion  of  English  history  with  which  M<.ry, 
queen  of  Scots,  is  so  lamentably,  and  so  disgracefully  to  England,  con- 
nected. 

The  event  of  the  Scottish  revolt  having  thus  completely  disappointed 
all  the  hopes  of  Elizabeth,  she  now  streimously  disavowed  all  concern  in 
il ;  and  having  induced  Murray  and  Chaterault's  agent,  the  abbot  of  Kil- 
winning, to  make  a  similar  declaration  before  the  Spanish  and  French 
ambassadors,  she,  with  a  bitter  practical  satire,  added  to  the  force  of  their 
declaration,  by  instantly  ordering  them  from  her  presence  as  detestable 
and  unworthy  traitors ! 

A.  D.  1566.— Hard  is  the  fate  of  princes !  Rarely  can  they  have  sincere 
friends;  still  more  rarely  can  uiey  have  favourites  who  do  not,  by  their 
own  ingratitude  or  the  envy  of  others,  call  up  a  storm  of  misfortune  for 
both  sovereign  and  favourite. 

Hitherto  the  conduct  of  Mary  had  been  morally  irreproachable ;  for  the 
coarse  abuse  of  Knox  is  itself  evidence  of  the  strongest  kind,  that,  save 
hor  papacy  and  her  sex — of  which  he  seems  to  have  felt  an  about  equal 
detestation — even  he  had  not  wherewithal  to  reproach  her.  Having  for 
lier  second  husband  a  handsome  and  youthful  man  of  her  own  choice,  it 
might  have  been  hoped  that  at  least  her  domestic  felicity  was  secured. 
Rut  Darnley  was  a  vain,  weak-minded  man;  alike  fickle  and  violent;  am- 
bitious of  distmction,  yet  weary  of  the  slightest  necesSary  care  ;  easily 
offended  at  the  most  trivial  opposition,  and  as  easily  governed  by  the 
most  obvious  and  fulsome  flattery.  Utterly  incapable  of  aiding  the  queen 
in  the  government,  he  was  no  jot  the  less  anxious  to  have  the  crown- 
matrimonial  added  to  the  courtesy-title  of  king  which  Mary  had  already- 
bestowed  upon  him.  In  this  temper  he  was  inclined  to  detest  all  who 
seemed  able  and  willing  to  afford  the  queen  counsel ;  and  among  these 
was  an  Italian  musLcian,  by  name  David  Rizzio.  He  had  attended  an 
embassy  sent  to  Scotland  by  the  duke  of  Savoy,  and  was  retained  at  the 
Scottish  court,  in  the  first  instance,  merely  on  account  of  his  musical  tjil- 
ents.  But  he  was  both  aspiring  and  clever,  and  he  soon  testified  so  much 
shrewdness  and  inclination  to  be  useful,  that  he  was  made  French  secre- 
tary to  the  queen.  Brought  thus  intimately  into  contact  with  the  queen, 
he  so  rapidly  improved  on  his  advantages,  that  in  a  short  time  he  was 
universally  looked  upon  not  only  as  the  queen's  chief  confidant  and  coun- 
sellor, but  also  as  the  chief  and  most  powerful  dispenser  of  her  favours. 
As  is  usually  thq  case  with  favourites,  the  ability  which  had  enabled  Rizzio 
to  conquer  court  favour  did  not  teach  him  to  use  it  with  moderation  ;  and 
he  haJ  scarcely  secured  the  favour  of  the  queen,  ere  he  had  incurred  the 
deadly  hate  of  nearly  rvery  one  at  court.  The  reformed  hated  him  as  a 
papist  and  the  reputed  spy  and  pensionary  of  ihe  pope  ;  the  needy  hated 
liirn  for  his  wealth,  the  high-born  for  his  upstart  insolence  ;  the  aspiring 
detested  his  ambition,  and  many  men— probably  not  too  pure  in  their  own 


620 


THE  TEEASUEY  OF  HI8T0EY. 


-norals — could  find  no  other  supposition  on  which  to  account  for  Maiy  » 
protection  of  him,  save  a  criminal  connection  between  them.  It  is  ime 
that  Kiizio  was  ugly  and  by  no  means  very  young  even  when  he  firsc 
came  to  court,  and  some  years  had  now  passed  since  that  event ;  and, 
moreover,  liizzio,  whose  ability  had  done  much  to  clear  away  the  obsta- 
cles to  the  marriage  of  Mary  and  Darnley,  had  at  one  time  ,  at  least,  been 
as  much  in  the  favour  of  the  king  as  of  the  queen.  But  Darnley,  soured 
by  the  queen's  coldness,  which  he  was  willing  to  attribute  to  any  cause 
rather  than  to  his  own  misconduct,  easily  fell  into  the  snare  set  by  tlin 
enemies  alike  of  himself,  his  queen,  and  Rizzio,  and  became  furiously 
jealous  of  an  ugly  and  almost  deformed  secretary.  Yet  Darnley  was  oiia 
of  the  handsomest  men  of  the  age  and  a  vain  man  too! 

Among  the  extravagant  reports  to  which  the  excessive  favour  already 
enjoyed  by  Rizzio  had  given  rise,  was  one,  that  it  was  the  intention  of 
Mary  to  make  him  chancellor  in  the  room  of  the  earl  of  Morton !  It  was 
true  that  Rizzio  knew  nothing  of  the  language  or  of  the  laws  of  Scotland ; 
but  the  report  was  credited  even  by  the  astute  Morion  himself,  who  forth- 
with exerted  himself  to  persuade  Darnley  that  nothing  but  the  death  of 
Rizzio  could  ever  restore  peace  and  safety  to  either  king  or  kingdom. 

The  earl  of  Lenox,  the  king's  father,  George  Douglas,  natural  brother  to 
the  countess  of  Lenox,  and  the  lords  Lindesay  and  Ruthven,  readily  joined 
in  the  conspiracy  against  the  unfortunate  foreigner,  and,  to  guard  lliem- 
selves  against  (he  known  fickleness  of  the  king,  they  got  him  to  sign  a 

Eaper  authorizing  and  making  himself  responsible  for  the  assassination  of 
iizzio,  as  being  "an  undertaking  tending  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  ad- 
vancement  of  religion."  The  banished  lords  who  were  ever  hovering  oa 
the  borders  in  hope  of  some  event  productive  of  disturbance,  were  invited 
by  the  king  to  return,  and  every  preparation  bemg  made,  a  night  was  at 
length  appointed  for  the  murder  of  Rizzio. 

Mary,  now  in  the  sixth  month  of  her  pregnancy,  was  at  supper  in  her 
private  apartments,  attended  by  Rizzio,  the  countess  of  Argyle,  her  natii- 
ral  sister,  and  others  of  her  personal  attendants,  when  the  king  suddenly 
entered  the  room  and  placed  himself  behind  the  queen's  chair.  Immedi- 
ately  afterwards  Lord  Ruthven,  cased  in  armour  and  ghastly  from  long 
illness  and  anxiety,  George  Douglas,  and  others,  rushed  in  and  seized 
upon  the  unfortunate  Rizzio  as  he  sprang  up  to  the  queen  and  clung  tu 
her  garments,  shrieking  the  while  for  protection.  The  queen,  with  tears, 
entreaties,  and  even  threats,  endeavoiaed  to  save  her  secretary,  but  the 
resolved  conspirators  forced  him  intc  the  antechamber,  where  he  died 
beneath  no  fewer  than  fifty-six  wounds! 

The  condition  of  the  queen  being  considered,  the  presence  of  her  hus- 
band while  she  was  thus  horribly  outraged  by  being  made  witness  of  the 
atrocious  murder  of  her  servant,  must  necessarily  have  turned  her  former 
coldness  towards  Darnley  into  actual  loathing.  On  learning  that  Uizzio 
was  indeed  dead,  she  immediately  dried  her  tears,  saying  "I  vjill  weepno 
more ;  henceforth  1  will  only  think  of  revenge." 

Assuming  Mary  to  be  guilty  of  the  participation  in  the  murder  of  her 
husband  with  which  she  was  afterwards  so  disastrously  charged,  though 
even  this  ouira;^e  upon  her  both  as  queen  and  woman  would  be  no  excuse 
for  her  misconduct  as  queen,  woman,  and  wife,  yet  it  ought  not  wholly  tu 
be  left  out  of  sight  while  we  judge  of  the  character  of  Mary.  In  a  court 
such  as  the  court  of  Scotland  clearly  was  at  that  time,  nothing  short  of  the 
purity  of  angels  could  have  escaped  the  genera'  pollution  of  cruelty,  deceit 
and  sensuality. 

All  resentments  felt  by  Mary  were  now,  it  should  seem,  merged  into 
detestation  of  the  cruelly  and  insolently  savage  conduct  of  her  lu-band 
She  showed  him  every  mark  of  contempt  in  public,  and  avoided  luin  in 
privait/  as  though  iu  mingled  hate  and  terror.     At  length,  however,  shi 


THE  TRKASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


521 


ftas confined  at  Edinburgh  cHstle  of  a  son ;  and  as  Darn'ey  iiad  apnitnients 
there,  they  were  at  least  apparently  reconciled  and  living  t<>getlier. 

A  messenger  was  inalanlly  sent  to  Elizabeth,  who  re.;eived  the  nowa 
while  at  a  ball  at  Greenwich.  She  was  much  cast  down  at  first,  and  even 
complained  to  some  of  her  attendants  that  she  was  but  a  barren  stock, 
while  Mary  was  the  glad  mother  of  a  fair  boy.  But  she  soon  recovered 
her  wonted  self-possession,  and  on  the  following  day  she  publicly  congrat- 
ulated Melvil,  Mary's  envoy,  and  sent  the  earl  of  liedford  and  George 
Cary,  son  of  her  kinsman  the  earl  of  Hunsdon,  to  attend  the  christening 
of  the  young  prince,  and  to  carry  some  rich  presents  to  his  mother. 

But  whatever  cordiality  Klizabeth  might  aflTect  upon  this  occasion,  the 
birth  of  a  son  to  the  queen  of  Scots,  as  it  increased  the  zeal  of  her  parti- 
zans  in  England,  so  it  made  even  the  best  friends  of  Elizabeth  desirous 
that  she  should  take  some  effectual  steps  for  the  settlement  of  the  sue 
cession. 

It  was  proposed  by  some  leading  members  of  parliament  that  the  ques- 
tion of  the  succession  and  that  of  the  supply  should  go  together.  Sir 
Ralph  Sadler,  in  order  to  elude  this  bringing  of  the  question  to  a  point,  af- 
firmed that  he  had  heard  the  queen  say  that  for  the  good  of  her  people  she 
had  come  to  the  resolution  to  marry.  Others  of  tlie  court  affirmed  the 
same,  and  then  the  house  began  to  consider  about  joining  the  (juesiion  of 
the  queen's  marriage  to  that  of  the  settlement  in  general,  when  a  message 
was  brought  from  the  queen  ordering  the  house  to  protieed  no  farther  in 
the  matter.  She  pledged  her  queenly  word  as  to  her  sincere  intention  to 
mary;  and  she  said  that  to  name  any  successor  previously  would  be  to 
increase  her  already  great  personal  dangers.  This  message  by  no  means 
satisfied  the  house,  and  Peter  Wentworth,  a  popular  member,  bluntly  said 
that  such  a  prohibition  was  a  breach  of  the  privileges  of  ihe  house  ;  while 
some  of  the  members  on  the  same  side  added,  that  unless  the  queen  would 
pay  some  regard  to  their  future  security  by  fixing  a  successor,  she  would 
show  herself  rather  as  the  stepmother  than  as  the  natural  parent  of  her 
people.  The  debates  still  continuing  in  this  strain,  the  queen  sent  for  the 
speaker,  and  her  remonstrances  with  him  having  failed  to  produ(;e  the  de- 
sired effect  upon  the  house,  she  shortly  afterwards  dissolved  the  parliament, 
sharply  reflecting,  at  the  same  time,  upon  the  pertinacity  with  which  they 
had  pressed  her  to  marry  or  fix  the  succession. 

A.  D.  1567. — The  debates  in  parliament  had  more  than  ever  awakened 
the  zeal  of  the  partizans  of  the  queen  of  Scots.  The  catholics  of  England 
were  to  a  man  ready  to  rise  on  her  behalf,  should  Elizabeth's  death  or 
any  national  calamity  afford  an  inviting  opportunity  ;  and,  moreover,  the 
court  of  Elizabeth  was  itself  full  of  Mary's  partizans.  But  while  Eliza- 
beth and  her  sagacious  friend  and  councillor  Cecil — to  whom  it  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  Elizabeth  owed  more  than  half  the  glory  she  acquired, 
and  owed  still  more  freedom  from  the  obloquy  her  temper  would  but  for 
him  liave  caused  her  to  incur — were  using  every  expedient  to  avoid  the 
necessity  of  declaring  so  dangerous  a  successor  as  the  queen  of  Scots, 
that  ill-fated  princess  was  in  the  very  act  of  plunging  herself  into  a  tissue 
of  horrors  and  infamies,  which  were  to  render  her  the  prisoner  and  the 
victSm  of  the  princess  whom  she  had  dared  to  rival  and  hoped  to  succeed. 
After  the  death  of  Rizzio,  Mary's  perilous  and  perplexed  situation  had 
made  some  confidant  and  assistant  indispensably  necessary  to  her,  especi- 
ally situated  as  she  was  with  her  frivolous  and  sullen  husband.  The  per- 
son who  at  this  time  stood  highest  in  her  confidence  was  the  earl  of  Both- 
well,  a  man  of  debauched  character  and  great  daring,  but  whose  fortune 
was  much  involved,  and  who  was  more  noted  for  his  opposition  to  Murray 
and  the  rigid  reformers,  than  for  any  great  evil  or  military  taients.  This 
aobleman,  it  is  believed,  suggested  to  her  the  expedient  of  being  divorced 


522 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


from  Darnley,  but  from  some  difficulties  wliich  arose  to  its  execution  that 
project  was  laid  aside. 

The  intimale  friendship  of  Mary  with  Bolhwell,  and  lior  aversici  to  her 
husband,  made  observant  persons  much  astonished  when  it  was  announced 
that  a  sudden  return  of  the  queen's  afl'ection  to  her  husband  had  taken  place; 
that  she  liad  even  journeyed  to  Glasgow  to  attend  his  sick  bed  ;  tint  siie 
tended  iiim  svith  the  utmost  kindness ;  and  that,  as  soon  as  he  couhl  SHfeiy 
travel,  she  had  brouj^ht  him  with  her  to  Holyiood-liouse,  in  Edinburgh, 
On  their  arrival  there  it  was  found,  or  pretended,  that  the  low  situation  of 
the  place,  and  the  noise  of  tiie  persons  continually  jjoing  and  coming,  de- 
nied tht  Ung  the  repose  necessary  to  his  infirm  state.  A  solitary  iiouse, 
called  the  Kirk  o'  Field,  at  some  distance  from  the  palace,  but  nearenoujfll 
to  adm  :  ol  Mary's  frequent  attendance,  was  accordingly  taken,  and  here 
she  contini'  J  her  attentions  to  him,  and  even  slept  for  several  nights  in  a 
room  1  imodiately  below  his.  On  the  ninth  of  February  she  excused  her- 
self to  him  for  not  sleeping  at  the  place,  as  one  of  her  attendants  was 
going  to  be  married,  and  she  had  promised  to  grace  the  ceremony  with  her 

f>re8ence.  About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  an  awful  explosion  was 
leard,  and  it  was  soon  afterwards  discovered  that  the  Kirk  o' Field  was 
blown  up,  and  the  body  of  the  unfortunate  Henry  Darnley  was  found  in  a 
field  at  some  distance,  but  with  no  marks  of  violence  upon  it. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that,  amidst  all  the  disputation  that  has  taken  place 
as  to  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  Mary  in  this  most  melancholy  affair,  no  one 
of  the  disputants  has  noticed  Mary's  selection  of  a  room  immedialehj  beloxa 
that  of  the  king  for  several  nights  before  the  murder.  Was  the  gun-powder 
deliberately,  in  small  quantities  and  at  intervals,  deposited  and  arranged  in  that 
apartment  ? 

That  Darnley  had  been  most  foully  murdered  no  sane  man  could  doubt 
and  the  previous  intimacy  of  Mary  and  Bothwell  caused  the  public  siispi- 
cion  at  once  to  be  turned  upon  them ;  and  the  conduct  of  Mary  was  ex- 
actly calculated  to  confirm,  instead  of  refuting,  the  horrible  suspicion 
which  attached  to  her.  A  proclamation  was  indeed  made,  offering  a  re» 
ward  for  the  discovery  of  the  king's  murderers ;  but  the  people  observed  that 
far  more  anxiety  was  displayed  to  discover  those  who  attributed  that  ter- 
rible deed  to  Bothwell  and  the  queen.  With  a  perfectly  infatuated  folly, 
the  queen  neglected  even  the  external  decencies  which  would  have  been 
expected  from  her,  even  had  she  been  less  closely  connected  in  the  public 
eye  with  the  supposed  murderer,  Bothwell.  For  the  earl  of  Lenox,  father 
of  the  murder  id  king,  wrote  a  letter  to  tiie  queen,  in  which,  avoiding  all 
accusation  of  the  queen,  he  iniplored  her  justice  upon  those  whom  he 

Elainly  charged  with  the  murder,  namely,  Bothwell,  Sir  James  Balfour  and 
is  brother  Gilbert  Balfour,  David  Chalmers,  and  four  other  persons  of 
the  queen's  household ;  but  Mary,  though  she  cited  Lenox  to  appear  at 
court  and  support  his  charge,  and  so  far  seemed  to  entertain  it,  let'i  the 
important  fortress  of  Edinburgh  in  the  hands  of  Bothwell  as  governor,  and 
of  his  creature  Balfour  as  his  deputy. 

A  day  for  the  trial  of  the  charge  made  by  Lenox  was  appointed ;  and 
that  nobleman,  with  a  very  small  attendance,  had  already  reached  Stirling 
on  his  way  to  Edinburgh,  when  his  information  of  the  extraordinary  coun- 
tenance shown  to  Bothwell,  and  the  vast  power  entrusted  to  him,  inspired 
Lenox  with  fears  as  to  even  his  personal  safety  should  he  appear  in  Kd- 
inburgh ;  he  therefore  sent  Cunningham,  one  of  his  suite,  to  protest  against 
so  hurried  an  investigation  of  thi.=  important  affair,  and  to  entreat  Mary, 
for  her  own  sake  as  well  as  for  the  sake  of  justice,  to  take  time,  and  tu 
make  arrangements  for  a  full  and  impartial  trial,  which  obviously  could 
not  be  had  while  Bolhwell  was  not  only  at  liberty,  but  in  possession  ol 
exorbitant  and  overwhelming  power.  Not  the  slightest  attention  was 
paid  to  this  manifestly  just  demand  of  Lenox;  a  jury  was  sworn,  ani  ay 


THE  THBASURY  OF  HISTORY.  ||| 

no  prosecutor  or  witness  was  present,  that  jury  could  only  acquit  the  ac- 
cused — the  verdict  bring  accompHnied  by  a  protest,  in  which  ihey  slated 
the  situation  in  which  the  very  nature  of  ilie  proceedinjjs  had  placed  iheni. 
But  even  had  witnesses  been  present,  their  evidence  could  have  availed 
liiilc  towards  furiherinjf  the  ends  of  justice,  for,  by  a  very  evident  wilful- 
ness, those  who  drew  the  indictment  had  charged  the  crime  as  having  been 
comiiiilted  on  the  teiilii  day  of  the  month,  while  the  evidence  must  have 
proved  it  to  have  been  the  ninth,  and  this  sisjnificant  circumstance  increased 
the  odium  of  both  Mary  and  Bothwell.  Two  days  after  this  shunicful  trial 
a  parliament  was  held,  and  Bothwell,  whose  acquittal  was  such  as  must 
have  convinced  every  impartial  man  of  his  guiltiness,  was  actually  chosen 
'lO  carry  the  royal  sceptre! 

Suitli  indecent  but  unequivocal  evidence  of  the  lengths  to  which  Mary 
was  picpared  to  go  in  securing  impunity  to  Bothwell,  awed  even  those 
wlio  most  detested  the  proceedings ;  and  a  bond  of  association  was  signed, 
by  which  all  the  subscribers,  consisting  of  all  the  chief  nobility  present  at 
this  parliament,  referred  to  the  acquittal  of  Bothwell  as  a  legal  and  com- 
plete one,  engaged  to  defend  him  against  all  future  imputation  of  the  mur- 
der of  the  late  king,  and  recommended  Mary  to  marry  Bothwell !  De- 
graded, indeed,  by  long  and  shameless  faction  must  the  nation  have  been, 
when  the  chief  of  its  nobles  could  insult  public  justice  and  public  decency 
by  the  publication  of  such  a  document  as  this  ! 

Having  thus  paved  the  way  towards  his  ultimate  designs,  Bothwell  aa- 
seiiibled  a  troop  of  eight  hundred  cavalry  on  pretence  of  pursuing  some 
armed  robbers  who  infested  the  borders,  and  waylaid  Mary  on  her  return 
from  Stirling,  where  she  had  been  paying  a  visit  to  her  infant  son.  Mary 
was  stized  near  Edinburgh ;  but  Sir  James  Melvil,  her  attached  and  faith- 
'il  servant  who  was  with  her  at  the  time,  not  only  confessed  that  he  saw 
.- /;  jiirprise  or  unwillingness  on  her  part,  but  adds,  that  some  of  Bolhwell's 
officers  openly  laughed  at  the  notion  of  seizure  of  Mary's  person,  and 
stated  the  whole  matter  to  have  been  arranged  between  the  parlies  them- 
selves. Bothwell  carried  his  prisoner  to  Dunbar,  and  there  made  himself 
master  of  her  person,  even  if  he  had  not  been  so  before.  Some  of  the  no- 
bility, either  still  doubtful  of  her  guilty  consent,  or  desirous,  at  the  least, 
of  forcing  her  into  a  more  explicit  declaration  of  it,  now  sent  to  offer  their 
services  to  rescue  her;  but  she,  with  infinite  coolness,  replied,  that  though 
Bothwell  had  originally  obtained  possession  of  her  person  by  violence, 
he  had  since  treated  her  so  well  that  she  was  now  quite  willing  to  remain 
with  him. 

That  no  circumstance  of  infamy  and  efTrontery  might  be  wanting  to 
this  disgusting  business,  Bothwell,  when  he  had  himself  proposed  as  the 
queen's  husband  and  seized  upon  her  person,  was  already  a  married  man ! 
But  a  divorce  was  now  sued  for  and  obtained  in  four  days  from  the  com» 
mencemeiil  of  the  suit ;  the  queen  was  then  taken  to  Edinburgli,  and  the 
banns  of  marriage  put  up  between  her  and  the  duke  of  Orkney,  which 
title  Bothwell  now  bore. 

In  tlie  midst  of  the  awfid  degradation  exhibited  by  the  Scottish  nation 
at  this  time,  it  is  i  'easing  to  notice  that  Craig,  a  clergyman,  being  desired 
to  solemnize  the  marriage  thus  abominably  brought  about,  not  only  refu- 
ged to  perform  tiie  ceremony,  but  openly  reprobated  it,  with  a  courage 
which  so  put  the  council  to  shame  that  it  dared  not  punish  him.  The 
bishop  of  Orkney,  a  piotesta'H,  was  more  compliant,  and  was  subsequently 
very  deservedly  deposed  'uy  his  church.  Unwarned  by  the  di.sgusi  of  her 
own  people  and  by  t'ne  remonstrances  ol  lier  relations,  the  Guides  of 
Fraiic^,  the  infatuated  Mary  thus  pursued  her  designs,  and  it  hecaiue 
known  iliat  Bothwell,  with  her  consent,  was  taking  measures  to  j-ei  the 
young  prince  James  into  his  power.     This  at  length  fairly  aroused  public 

iiidiifiiatiou ;  the  chief  iiobiliiy,  including  most  of  ihose  who  had  signed 


/ 


/ 


'/ 
h 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 

the  ever  iiii^riiousbond  in  favour  of  Bathwell,  now  formed  an  essociiition 
for  llie  pro'  1  ction  of  the  yomij^  prince  and  for  the  punishment  of  the  mur- 
derers  of  liie  king.  Tiie  army  of  the  associated  lords  arifl  the  royia. 
troops  under  Bothwell  met  at  (Jarbery-hill ;  but  it  was  so  clear  both  that 
Bolhwell  hud  no  capacity  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  tliat  her  own  troops 
looked  upon  their  cause  with  disgust,  that  Mary,  after  making  certain 
stipulations,  put  '.erself  into  the  hands  of  the  confederates  and  was  taken 
to  Edinburgh,  the  populace  reproaching  her  i>>  ihr  r.r.arsest  terms,  and 
holding  up  banners  representing  the  murder  of  hi  r  h'lvtjaiid  an!  vhe  dis- 
tress of  he  I  infant  son.  Both  well,  in  the  )nean»iii>e,  csciped  to  the  Ork- 
neys, and  ((.I- some  time  lived  by  actual  pii:u;y.  i  -  tt  length  w»  ul  oDen- 
niriis,  wiien;  he  was  thrown  into  prison:  ;  laddiiiitd  under  th.  ;  i  verity 
of  nis  confiaement  and  the  horrov  of  his  vjltct'o;  ,-t,  I:',  lied  iJcr  len 
years  aftcrwitrds,  so mi...?rab!y,  that  even  his  atrocity  cinnut  d<  ji t  l-  hini 
of  oar  pity. 

Though  treated  with  scorn  and  humbled  by  Uie  indignities  to  wiiich  she 
was  now  daily  oxposed.  Ma.y  was  stil!  so  infatuated  in  her  affectioii  for 
the  unworthy  Buihwell,  lii.ii  slie  is  reported  to  have  said  in  a  letter  to 
him,  that  siuj  would  surrender  her  crown  and  dignity  rather  t!nn  hi-  affec- 
tions; and  as  she  appeared  lo  bL' ilnis  di  .ermined,  the  cuurederales,  to 
dccn  ide  the  chance  of  her  once  more  trotting  power  into  h'si  ha!ids,  sent 
her  to  a  sort  of  honourable  miprisonmf  ut  \n  the  castl  f  Locnlnvin  lake. 
The  owner  of  this  place  was  moUser  of  the  eail  of  .v/'u-ray,  and  as  siie 
ojetciided  to  have  been  the  mother  ind  not  the  .xere  mistress  of  the  late 
i:i  'tj,  she  boio  Mary  a  hatred  which  fully  insured  her  vigilance. 

Klizabclh  was  accurately  informed  of  all  that  had  passed  in  Scotland, 
•  :\d  her  eagle  vision  could  not  fail  to  perceive  the  advantages  to  her  own 
ct  ciuity  'o  be  obtained  by  her  interference  between  Mary  and  her  enra- 
ged subjects.  She  accordingly,  through  Throckmorton,  sent  a  remon- 
strance to  the  confederated  lords,  and  advice,  mingled  with  some  severity, 
to  Mary,  to  whom  she  offered  assistance,  and  protection  at  the  English 
court  for  her  infant  son,  but  on  condiiii>n  that  she  should  lay  aside  all 
thoughts  of  revenge  or  punishment,  except  as  far  as  related  to  the  murder 
of  lier  late  husband.  As  both  queen  and  woman,  Elizabeth  acted  well  in 
both  her  remonstrance  to  the  lords  and  her  advice  to  Mary ;  but,  judging 
from  her  whole  course  of  policy  at  other  times,  it  is  no  breach  of  charily 
to  suppose  that  even  her  womanly  pity  for  Mary's  present  distressed  and 
perilous  situation,  did  not  prevent  her  from  determinmg  to  make  it  avail- 
able  towanls  her  own  security  and  peace  for  the  time  to  come. 

Ill  the  meantime  the  confederated  lords  proceeded  to  arrange  matters 
with  very  little  deference  to  either  the  rights  of  their  own  queen  or  tiit; 
remonstrances  of  the  queen  of  England.  After  much  intrigue  and  dis- 
pute, it  was  agreed  that  the  regency  of  the  kingdom  should  be  placed  iu 
the  hands  of  Murray,  and  that  Mary  should  resign  the  crown  in  favour  of 
her  son ;  nay,  so  desperate  were  her  circumstances,  that,  though  "  with 
abundance  of  tears,"  she  actually  signed  the  deeds  that  made  these  ex- 
tensive alterations,  without  making  herself  accurately  mistress  of  theii 
contents. 

The  prince  James  was  immediately  proclaimed  kinj  avid  crowned  at 
Stirling,  and  in  the  oath  which  the  oarl  of  Morton  took  in  his  behalf  at 
that  ceremony,  an  oath  to  extirpate  heresy  was  included.  Elizabeth  was 
so  much,  annoyed  at  the  disregard  with  which  h  r  remonstrance  had  beeii 
treated,  that  she  forbade  Throckmorton  to  attend  the  young  king's  coro 
nation. 

As  soon  as  Murray  had  assumed  the  regency  a  parliament  was  assem- 
bled, in  which  it  was  solemnly  voted  that  she  was  an  undoubted  accom- 
plice in  the  murder  of  her  husband,  but  !,!.,'.ht  njt  to  be  imprisoned.  Her 
ilidication  and  heT  son's  successica  were  ;;  the  same  time  ratified. 


«?i 


peopU 


TUB  TREAHURY  OF  HISTORY. 


525 


Murray  proved  himself  equal  to  liis  hii;h  pont.  He  ohui'.iu'd  possesiion 
of  the  fortresses  which  held  out  for  Mary  or  Botlwvell,  and  fvcrywhero 
compelled  at  least  external  obedience  to  his  authority.  ])ut  he  had  many 
enemies  even  among  his  8eeniin|{  friends;  ni-iiiy  of  thoM.-  wlio  ha  .  been 
most  enraged  against  Mary,  while  she  had  thus  lived  in  what  was  no 
better  than  open  adultery  with  Bothwell,  were  softened  by  the  cunlem- 
plalion  of  her  sorrows  now  that  he  was  a  fugitive  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth,  without  the  possibility  of  ever  regaining  his  guilty  power.  T(»  all 
these  persons  were  added  the  eminent  catholics  and  the  |:,reat  body  of  Ihe 
people,  who  pitied  her  sorrows  now  with  the  merely  instinctive  ai.d  un- 
reasoning impulse  with  which  recently  they  had  heaped  the  coarsest  con- 
tempt upon  her  misconduct.  Even  yet,  then,  it  was  quite  within  the 
bounds  of  possibility  that  she  might  recover  her  power,  and  so  exert  it  as 
(0  cause  the  past  to  be  forgiven. 

A.  n.  1568. — But  Mary's  own  conduct  even  when  least  blameworthy, 
was  ever  to  be  inimical  to  her.  The  constant  insults  and  vexations  that 
ghe  endured  from  the  lady  of  Lochlevin  determined  her  to  attempt  her 
escape  from  that  melancholy  confinement ;  and  by  those  artful  and  win- 
ning blandishments  which  no  beautiful  woman  ever  better  knew  how  to 
employ,  she  induced  George  Douglas,  brother  of  the  laird  of  Lochlevin, 
to  aid  in  her  escape.  After  many  vain  endeavours  the  enamoured  youth 
It  length  got  her  from  the  house  in  disguise,  and  rowed  her  across  the 
lake  in  a  small  boat. 

As  soon  as  her  escape  was  known  m^ny  of  the  nobility  hastened  to 
offer  her  tlieir  aid,  and  to  sign  a  bond  'o  delend  her  against  all  comers. 
Among  those  that  thus  signed  were  i-tie  earls  of  Argyle,  Huntley,  Eglin- 
toun,  Cassilis,  Crauford,  Kothes,  Montrose,  Sunderland,  and  Errol,  besides 
nnmerous  barons  and  nine  bishops,  and  in  a  very  few  days  she  found  her 
standard  surrounded  by  upwards  of  six  thousand  men.  Elizabeth,  ti  , 
offered  to  assist  her,  on  condition  that  she  would  refer  the  quarrel  to  her 
arbitration  and  allow  no  French  troops  to  enter  the  kingdom,  but  ihe  offer 
was  too  late;  Murray  hastily  drew  together  an  army,  and  attacked  her 
forces  at  Langside,  near  Glasgow  ;  and  though  the  regent  was  somewhat  in- 
ferior in  force,  his  superior  ability  inflicted  a  complete  defeat  upon  Mary, 
who  hastily  fled  to  a  fishing-boat  in  Galloway,  and  landed  the  same  day 
at  Wokington,  in  Cumberland,  v  nence  she  immediately  st'^*  a  mes-sen- 
ger  to  crave  the  protection  and  hospitality  of  Elizabeth.  The  reality  nd 
extent  of  the  generous  sympathy  of  that  princess  were  now  to  be  devel- 
oped ;  interest  was  now  .straightly  and  sternly  opposed  to  real  or  preten- 
ded generosity. 

Mary  had  evidently  relied  upon  the  power  of  her  insinuation  and  elo- 
quence to  be  of  service  to  her  in  a  personal  interview,  which  .she  immedi- 
ately solicited.  But  the  able  and  tried  ministers  of  Elizabeth  were  not 
slower  than  Mary  herself  in  perceiving  the  'robable  consequence  of  such 
an  interview,  and  Elizabeth  was  advised  by  them  that  she  as  a  maiden 
queen  could  not,  consistently  even  with  mere  decency,  admit  to  her  pres- 
ence a  woman  who  was  charged  with  murder  and  adultery,  and  that,  too, 
under  circumstances  which  made  even  these  horrible  crimes  more  than 
usually  horrible.  The  queen  of  Scots  was  very  indignant  at  being,  and 
on  such  a  plea,  deprived  of  the  interview  upon  which  she  had  so  very 
much  reckoned.  She  replied  to  the  ministers  with  great  sj  irit,  and  so 
evidently  showed  her  determination  to  consider  herself  as  a  sister  sove- 
reign seeking  Elizabeth's  friendship,  and  not  as  a  charged  criminal  whom 
Klizabeth  could  have  any  earthly  right  to  sit  in  judgment  upon,  that  Cecil 
determined  to  force  her,  indirectly  at  least,  upon  an  investigation,  by 
allowing  Murray  and  his  party  to  charge  her  before  the  queen  in  council 
with  having  been  "of  fore-knowledge,  counsel,  and  device,  persuader  and 
commander  o*"  the  murder  of  her  husband,  and  had  intended  to  cause  the 


5t>G 


THE  TRKAflURY  OP  HISTORy. 


innocent  prinT  to  follow  his  fallier  ami  so  triin^ifor  the  rrown  from  the 
ri(flit  line  lo  a  liloody  niurdurtT  »nd  (roill(.-8M  tyrant."  To  lliitt  ponii  of  ilm 
inlricittc  iiiul  ni»at  piiinful  utrairthe  ultention  of  (jenttral  rt;ade.r8  Iihh  nevur 
been  anlfiiMtMilly  dirt-cti'd,  Tim  i:snul  narrutivo  of  liiHtoriaiiH  ■oavit's  the 
careless  or  superficial  reader  to  fancy  tliat  the  conduct  of  Klizaheth  niiigt 
tliroiighout  have  been  unju«tifial)le,  as  to  even  the  detention  of  Mury,  iho 
whole  question  heing  Mary's  gudt  anil  Klizaheth's  right  to  punish.  VVe 
have  already  siilTicienlly  shown  that  wo  are  not  inclined  to  sacrifice  trmli 
to  oil  adiiiii  ttioii  of  the  many  admirable  (pialities  of  Klizaheth.  Fur 
much  of  iicr  tieutment  to  Mary  she  is  deserving  of  the  higiiest  blame,  mtj 
;i8  rejj'ards  her  execution  every  one  must  feel  the  utmost  indijfnuiion ;  bm 
the  mere  detention  of  her,  and  iiupiiry  into  her  guilt  as  lo  her  iMJsliaiid, 
and  her  intcnlions  as  to  her  infant  son,  were  justified  alike  by  the  laws  of 
nations  and  l)y  every  feeling  of  humanity  and  of  molality.  That  Mary 
was  "  an  indbpendent  s-ivereign"  can  only  be  ufnrmed  by  a  mere  pluy 
upon  words. 

8tuinef'  with  tlio  deep  cli  ••gcs  of  murder  and  adultery,  beaten  on  ilie 
battle-field,  and  fii^iiive  hom  her  enraged  and  horrified  subjects,  Mary 
was  in  no  condition  to  e.\ercise  her  sovereignty  until  she  should  have  re- 
established it  by  arms  or  treaty.  By  arms  she  could  not  proceed  with. 
out  great  peril  to  Kngland,  for  slie  must  have  relied  upon  aid  from  France; 
by  treaty  she  could  not  proceed  but  by  the  aid  of  Elizabeth,  whose  terri- 
tory might  be  periled  by  some  clause  of  such  treaty.  Situated  as  Kii^r. 
land  was,  both  as  to  France  and  as  to  Spain,  it  is  quite  clear  to  ail  whu 

Eay  due  attention  to  the  whole  of  the  circumstances,  that  in  an  huiiuuru. 
I«  detention  of  Mary,  and  a  full,  fair  and  impartial  inquiry  into  her  con- 
duct, Elizabeth  would  have  been  fully  justified. 

The  subsequent  conduct  shown  to  Mary,  her  close  imprisonment  and 
unkind  tnjatment,  reflect  no  credit  upon  cither  Elizabeth  or  her  minis- 
ters;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  Mary,  besides  those  verbal  iiisiilis 
which  wound  women  more  painfully  than  the  sword  itself,  greatly  pm- 
voked  the  harsh  feeling  of  Elizabeth  by  her  perpetual  re;idiness  to  leiiJ 
her  name  and  influence  to  plots  involving  the  .1  o  as  well  the  crown  of 
Elizabeth. 

It  seems  quite  certain  tliat,  at  the  outset  of  the  business,  the  main  d  sire 
of  both  Eliziibeth  and  lier  ministers  was  to  place  Mary  in  such  a  posui  n 
that  she  would  be  unable  practically  to  revoke  lierseltlemcnl  of  the  ciouii 
upon  her  infant  son,  whose  regency,  being  proteslant,  would  have  a  cinii- 
nion  interest  with  England,  instead  of  a  temptation  to  aid  France  or  iSpaiii 
to  her  annoyance.  One  scheme  for  this  purj)ose  was  to  give  her  in  mar- 
riage  to  a.  English  nobleman,  and  Elizabeth  proposed  the  alliaiK-e  to  Ihi; 
duke  ■of  Norfolk,  who  bluntly  replied,  "That  woman,  madam,  shall  luvcr 
be  my  wife  who  has  been  your  competitor,  aiid  whose  husband  cannot 
sleep  in  security  up"  11  his  pillow."  Unfortunately  for  the  duke,  his  orac- 
tice  was  by  no  moans  governed  by  the  sound  sense  of  his  llieory,  and  he 
very  soon  afK^rwards  (ujiisented  to  offer  himself  to  Mary,  in  a  letter,  which 
was  also  signed  by  Arundel,  Pembroke,  and  Leicester.  Mnry  pleaded 
that  "  woeful  experience  had  taught  her  to  prefer  a  single  life,"  but  she 
hinted  pretty  plainly  tiiat  Elizabeth's  consent  iniglit  remove  such  reluc- 
tance as  she  felt.  Norfolk,  througli  the  bishop  of  Ross,  kept  up  tlio  cor- 
respondence wilii  Mary.  Elizabeth  was  from  the  very  first  aware  ol'  u, 
and  .«lie  at  length  sigriticantly  quoted  Norfolk's  own  words  to  him,  warn- 
ing hiMi  to  "  beware  on  what  pillow  he  should  rest  his  head."  Shortly 
afterwards  the  duke,  for  coiuinuiiig  the  correspondence,  was  cominilted 
to  the  Tower,  i.rirester  was  pardoned  for  the  share  he  hail  had  in  the 
original  correspondenci  ;  but  there  seemed  so  much  danger  that  bo'ti  Nor- 
folk and  the  queen  of  Scots  would  be  severely  dealt  with,  that  all  lUo  great 
catholic  families  of  the  north  joiucd  in  a  formidable  msurrcctiuii.    .Uarv 


H 


AVv 


^-■ 


^*«»^ 


TlIM  TRKASUaY  OW  IIIOTOHY. 


Mf 


on  I'ln  br^alflngout  of  thin  aflfiir,  wr»«  ri'tnovfld  to  Coventry  ;  hm  ihn  roii- 

tfHi  wiif)  it!iort ;  tlii!  earl  or  Nordiuinlit'rknd,  wlio  linitili'd  itii*  r<*vii|i,  wafl 
(|i'l«Mtc<l  iind  taken  prinoiifr,  nnd  thrown  uito  Lorlilcvin  ciiicli-.  Hit 
roiintt'im,  with  lh«  I'twl  of  Wcntnion-limil  and  donwi  otluT  fuj^ilivcn,  were 
^;i!'('  anioii(c  he  SiMtttmh  horderer^,  who  wenr  aide  to  protect  iheni  ei{UHlly 
ggaitiat  the  reuM>nl  Murray  and  the  eniissarien  o(  Klizahtth. 

I  |)on  the  KnuliHli  of  the  northern  eounties  who  liad  hern  hoirniled  into 
Oii^  lioiteh'Ht  tevolt,  the  veinjeanco  of  Klizah)  th  was  terrihle  and  exten- 
sive. The  poor  were  handed  over  to  tlic  rigoum  of  nnrtial  hiw,  and  it  is 
illlrmed  that  from  Neweaslle  to  Netherhy,  in  a  district  sixty  mdes  long 
Aiiil  forty  miles  wide,  there  wan  not  n  town  or  even  a  vdlage  wlueh  wai 
not  ihe  Ncene  of  execution  !  The  wiallhicr  ofTenders  were  retterved  for 
the  ordinary  courMe  of  condemnation  by  law,  it  beni|{  anticipated  that  their 
forfeitures  would  reiinbiirse  the  qiiceii  the  large  sums  which  it  had  cost 
lur  to  pi't  down  the  revolt. 

A.  n.  l.')7(). — The  vigour  of  the  rejrent  Murray  had  kept  the  greater  part 
of  Scotland  perfectly  quiet,  even  while  the  north  of  Kngland  was  in  anus 
for  Mary:  and  as  among  the  nnmcrous  projects  suggeHted  to  Klizalieth 
for  safely  ridding  herself  of  iMary  was  that  of  delivering  her  up  to  Murray, 
It  is  nioct  probable  that  the  Scottish  queen  would  have  been  restored  lo 
iicr  country  and— lliough  partially  ami  under  strong  reHtrictiniiH— to  her 
iiiilhority,  but  for  the  (Jeath  of  the  regent.  While  aiiiusiiig  Mary  with  a 
variety  of  proposals  which  came  to  nothing,  varied  by  sudden  ol)jeclions 
which  had  been  contrived  from  the  very  fn>it,  Klizabciirs  ministers  werfi 
»c(hilously  strengthening  the  hands  and  establishing  the  interests  of  their 
iiiistrcss  in  Scotland ;  Vliey,  however,  seem  really  to  have  iiuciided  the 
eventual  rest(Mation  of  Mary  under  tlie  most  favourable  eircmnstaiiceg  to 
Kngland,  wln.'ii  the  enmity  and  suspicion  of  the  English  cabinet  against 
)i'  1,  as  a  zealous  pajiist,  v.erc  made  stronger  than  ever  by  the  publication 
of  a  bull  by  I'ius  V.,  in  which  he  insnltlngly  spoke  of  Klizabeth's  as  a 
merely  "  pretended"  right  to  the  crown,  and  absolved  all  her  subjects 
from  llieir  allegiance,  Of  this  bull,  insolent  in  iiself  and  cruel  towards 
Mary,  several  copic  were  published  both  in  Scotland  and  in  England ; 
ami  a  c.'.lholic  gent.jman,  named  Felton,  whose  zeal  bade  defiance  alike 
tn  prudence  and  decency,  was  capitally  punished  for  affixing  a  copy  of 
this  document  lo  tiie  gales  of  the  bishop  of  Loiuhm. 

It  must  bo  clear  thai  no  sovereign  could  overlook  such  an  invitation  to 
rebellion  and  assassination.  It  would  in  any  state  of  society  be  likely  to 
urge  some  gloomy  and  half  insane  fanatic  to  the  crime  of  murder;  though 
as  to  any  national  effect,  even  while  tlie  catholics  were  still  so  numerous, 
the  papal  bull  had  now  become  a  mere  brutcmfuhnen.  Lingard,  even,  the 
ablest  catholic  historian,  says,  upon  this  very  transaction,  "If  the  pcmtiff 
promised  himself  any  particular  benefit  from  this  measure,  the  result  mu.st 
have  disappointed  his  expectations.  The  time  was  gone  by  when  the 
thunders  of  the  V'^atican  could  shake  the  thrones  of  princes.  I3y  foreign 
powers  the  bull  was  suffered  to  sleep  in  silence ;  among  the  English 
catholics  it  served  only  to  breed  doubts,  dissensions,  and  dismay.  JNlany 
contended  that  it  had  been  issued  by  incompetent  authority  ;  others,  that 
It  could  not  bind  the  natives  until  it  should  be  carried  into  actual  execu- 
tion by  some  foreign  power :  all  agreed  that  it  was,  in  their  regard,  an  im- 
prudent and  cruel  expedient,  which  rendered  them  liable  to  the  .'uspicion 
of  disloyalty,  and  afforded  their  enemies  a  pretence  to  brand  them  with 
the  name  of  traitors.  To  Elizabeth,  however,  though  she  affected  to 
ridicule  the  sentence,  it  proved  a  source  of  considerable  uneasiness  and 
ilarm." 

The  parliament,  at  once  alarmed  and  indignant  at  the  bull  of  Pius  V., 
very  naturally  laid  some  heavy  restrictions  upon  the  callioiics,  who  were 
''eared  to  be  ready  at  any  moment  lo  rise  in  favour  of  the  queen  ol  Scots 


538 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


and  for  the  rieposition  of  Elizabeth,  should  Philip  oT  Spain  or  his  genera., 
Alva,  governor  of  the  Netherlands,  land  a  suiliciently  numerous  army  of 
foreign  papists  in  Kngland.  And  these  fears  of  the  parliament  and  ihe 
ministry  had  but  too  solid  foundation.  The  duke  of  Norfolk  from  hif 
confinement  was  constantly  intriguing  with  Mary;  and  that  unhappy 
princess,  wearied  and  goaded  to  desperation  by  her  continued  imprison- 
ment,  and  the  constant  failure  of  all  attempts  at  gaining  her  liberty,  even 
when  she  the  most  frankly  and  completely  agreed  to  all  that  was  de- 
manded of  her,  sent  Rudolphi,  an  Italian,  who  had  her  confidence,  to  solicit 
the  co-operation  of  the  pope,  Philip  of  Spain,  and  Alva.  Some  letters 
from  Norfolk  to  the  latter  personage  were  intercepted  by  the  English 
ministry,  and  Norfolk  was  tried  for  treasonable  leaguing  with  tiie  queen's 
enemies,  to  the  danger  of  her  crown  and  dignity.  Norfolk  protested  that 
his  aim  was  solely  to  restore  Mary  to  her  own  crown  of  Scotland,  and 
that  detriment  to  the  authority  of  Elizabeth  he  had  never  conte-nplated  ami 
would  never  liave  abetted. 

A.  D.  1572. — His  defence  availed  him  nothing ;  he  was  ibund  auiUy  by 
his  peers  and  condemned  to  death.  FIven  then  the  queen  heititated  to 
carry  the  sentence  into  effect  against  the  premier  duke  of  Kngland,  who 
was,  also,  her  own  relative.  Twice  she  was  induced  by  the  ministers  to 
sign  the  warrant,  and  twice  she  revoked  it.  This  state  of  hesitation 
lasted  for  four  months.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the  parliament  presented 
an  address  strongly  calling  upon  her  to  make  an  i  unple  of  the  duk-  ■} 
which  she  at  leii^jth  consented,  and  Norfolk  was  beheaded;  dying  wufi 
great  courage  and  coiistancy,  and  still  protesting  that  he  had  no  ill  design 
towards  his  own  queen  in  his  desire  to  aid  the  unhappy  queen  of  Scots 
We  are  inclined  to  believe  that  the  duke  was  sincere  on  this  head ;  bu' 
certainly  his  judgment  did  not  equal  his  sincerity  ;  for  how  could  he  ex 
pect  to  overturn  the  vast  power  of  Eliznbeth,  so  far  as  to  re-establish  Mar) 
on  the  throne,  but  by  such  civil  and  international  fighting  as  must  have 
periled  Elizabeth's  "throne,  and,  most  probably,  would  have  led  to  the 
sacrifice  of  her  life. 

Burleigh,  devoted  to  the  glory  of  his  royal  mistress  and  to  the  welfare 
of  h?r  people,  and  plainly  perceiving  that  the  catholics,  both  at  home  and 
abroad,  would  either  find  or  feign  a  motive  to  mischief  in  the  detetuionol 
the  queen  of  Scots,  resolutely  advised  that  the  unhappy  queen  should  be 
violently  dealt  with,  as  being  at  the  bottom  of  all  schemes  and  attempts 
against  the  peace  of  England.  But  Elizabeth  was  not  yet — would  that 
she  had  never  been ! — so  far  irritated  or  alarmed  as  to  consent  to  aught 
more  than  the  detention  of  Mary ;  and  to  all  the  suggestions  of  Burleigh 
she  contented  herself  with  replying,  with  a  touch  of  that  poetic  feeling 
which  even  intrigues  of  state  never  wholly  banished  from  her  mind,  that 
"she  could  not  put  to  death  the  bird  that,  to  escape  the  lure  of  the  hawk, 
had  flown  to  her  feet  for  protection." 

Burleigh  was  aided  in  his  endeavours  against  Mary  by  the  parliament; 
but  Elizabeth,  though  both  her  anxiety  and  her  anger  daily  grew  stronirer, 
parsonally  interfered  to  prevent  a  bill  of  attainder  against  Mary,  and  even 
another  bill  which  merely  went  to  exclude  h(;r  from  the  succession. 

Towards  the  friends  of  Mary,  Elizabeth  was  less  merciful.  The  earl 
of  Northumberland  was  delivered  by  Morton — who  had  succeeded  Lenox 
in  the  Scotch  regency — into  the  hands  of  the  English  ministers;  and  ti'at 
chivalrous  and  unfortunate  nobleman  was  beheaded  at  York. 

The  slate  of  France  ai;  this  time  was  such,  from  the  fierce  enmity  of  the 
catholics  to  the  Huguenots  or  protestants,  as  to  t?ive  serious  uneasiness  to 
Elizab;!th.  The  deep  enmity  of  Charles  IX.  of  France  towards  the  leaders 
of  his  protestant  subjects  was  disguised,  indeed,  by  the  most  artful  caresses 
bestowed  upon  Coligni,  the  kingof  Navarre,  and  other  leading  Huguenots: 
but  circumstances  occurred  to  show  that  the  king  of  France  not  only  de. 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


529 


tested  those  personages  and  their  French  foil*  vvers,  but  that  he  would 
ffladly  seize  any  good  opportunity  to  aid  Phihp  of  J.^oain  in  the  destruction, 
if  possible,  of  the  protesiant  nower  of  Englanci. 

The  perfidious  Charles,  in  order  to  plunge  the  Huguenots  into  the  more 
profoundly  fatal  security,  offereH  to  give  his  sister  Margaret  in  marriage 
to  ihe  pr'nce  of  Navarre ;  and  Coligni,  with  other  leaders  of  the  Huguenot 
party,  arrived  in  Paris,  to  celebrate  a  marriage  which  promised  so  much 
towards  the  reconciliation  of  the  two  parties.  But  so  far  was  peace  from 
being  the  roal  n)oaning  of  the  court  of  France,  that  the  queen  of  Navarre 
was  poisoned.  This  suspiciously  sudden  death,  however,  of  so  eminent 
a  person  did  not  arouse  the  doomed  Coligni  and  the  other  protestants  to  a 
sense  of  their  real  situation.  The  marriage  was  concluded  ;  and  but  a  few 
days  after,  on  the  eve  of  St.  Bartholomew,  the  designs  of  Charles  IX.,  or, 
more  strictly  speaking,  ot  his  execrable  mother,  burst  forth.  The  venera- 
ble Coligni  was  murdered  almost  by  the  king's  side ;  men,  women,  and 
children  alike  were  butchered  by  the  king's  troops,  so  that  in  Paris  alone 
about  five  hundred  persons  of  rank  and  above  ten  thousand  of  the  lower 
order  are  known  to  have  perished  in  th's  most  sanguinary  and  cowardly 
affair.  Orders  were  at  the  same  time  sent  to  Rouen,  Lyons,  and  other 
(Treat  towns  of  France,  where  the  same  detestable  butcheries  were  com- 
mitted on  a  proportionably  large  scale. 

The  king  of  Navarre  and  the  prince  of  Conde  narrowly  escaped.  The 
duke  of  Guise  advised  their  destruction,  but  the  king  had  contracted  as 
much  personal  affection  for  them  as  he  could  feel  for  any  one  but  the  she- 
wolf,  his  mother,  and  he  caused  their  lives  to  be  spared  on  condition  of  their 
seeming  conversion  to  popery. 

Tlie  frigiitful  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  could  not  but  be  greatly 
alarming  as  well  as  disgusting  to  Elizabeth.  She  could  not  but  perceive, 
from'  a  butchery  so  frigiitful  and  excessive,  that  there  was  among  the 
catholic  princes  of  the  continent  a  determination  to  exterminate  protest- 
antism ;  nor  could  she  but  feel  that  she,  as  the  champion  of  that  faith, 
was  henceforth  more  conspicuously  than  ever  marked  out  for  destruction, 
could  it  be  accomplished  either  by  warfare  or  in  the  more  dastardly  way 
of  private  assassination. 

Charles  IX.  was  himself  conscious  of  the  offence  this  atrocious  mas- 
sacre of  his  protestant  subjects  must  necessarily  give  to  Elizabeth,  and  he 
sent  a  strong  apology  to  her  through  Fenelon,  his  ambassador.  To  us  it 
has  ever  appeared  that  this  apology  did,  in  reality,  only  make  the  offence 
the  blacker;  Charles  now  calumniated  the  unfortunate  persons  whom  he 
had  murdered.  He  pretended  that  he  had  discovered,  just  as  it  was  about 
to  be  carried  into  execution,  a  Huguenot  conspiracy  to  seize  his  person, 
and  that  it  was  as  a  necessary  matter  of  self-defence  that  his  catholic  sol- 
diery had  acted.  The  single  fact  that  orders  for  wholesale  massacre  were 
acted  upon  at  distant  provincial  cities,  is  well  as  at  Paris,  would  at  once 
and  for  ever  give  the  lie  to  this  statement.  Even  Charles's  own  ambas- 
sador confessed  that  he  was  ashamed  alike  of  his  country  and  of  the 
apology  which  he  was,  by  his  office,  compelled  to  make  for  so  outrageous 
a  crime.  His  office,  however,  left  him  no  choice,  and  he  went  t6  i  ourt. 
Here  he  found  every  one,  male  and  female,  attired  in  the  deepest  mturn- 
ing,  and  bearing  in  their  features  the  marks  of  profound  grief  and  ala'm. 
No  one  spoke  to  him,  even,  u:itil  he  arrived  at  the  throne,  where  he 
queen,  who  respected  his  personal  character,  heard  his  apology  with  all 
the  calmness  that  she  could  muster.  Elizabeth  very  plainly,  in  lier  reply, 
showed  that  she  wholly  disbelieved  Charles's  calumny  upon  his  protestant 
subjects,  but  she  concluded  that  she  would  defer  making  up  her  mind  upon 
the  real  feelings  of  Charles  until  she  should  see  how  he  would  act  in 
future,  and  that  in  the  meantime,  as  requested  by  his  own  ambassador, 
she  would  rather  pity  than  blame  him. 
Vol.  I.— 34 


630 


THE  TEBASURY  OF  HISTOttY. 


The  massacres  in  France,  joined  to  the  Spanish  massacres  and  perse- 
cutions in  the  Low  Couiilrics,  and  the  favour  into  which  Charles  IX  now 
visibly  took  the  Guises,  made  it  evident  to  Klizabeth  that  nothing  but  op. 

Eortunity  was  wanting  to  induce  the  French  and  Spaniards  to  unite  for 
er  destruction,  and  she  took  all  possible  precautions.  She  fortified 
Portsmouth,  paid  all  requisite  attention  to  her  militia  and  fleet,  and,  while 
she  renewed  her  open  alliances  with  the  German  princes,  she  lent  all  the 
aid  that  she  secretly  could  to  the  people  of  the  Low  Countries  to  assist 
them  against  their  Spanish  tyrants. 

A.  D.  1579. — Beyond  what  we  have  just  now  said  of  the  foreign  policj' 
of  Elizabeth  we  need  not  here  say  anything;  the  events  that  took  place, 
whether  in  Spain,  the  Netherlands,  or  France,  falling  properly  under  those 
heads.  The  attention  of  Elizabeth,  as  to  foreigners,  was  addressed  chiefly 
to  aiding  the  protestanls  with  secrecy  and  with  as  rigid  economy  and 
stringent  conditions  as  were  consistent  with  effectual  aid ;  and  to  keeping 
up  such  a  constant  demonstration  of  vigour  and  a  prepared  position,  as 
might  intimidate  catholic  princes  from  any  such  direct  hostility  to  her  as 
would  be  likely  to  provoke  her  into  openly  encouraging  and  assisting  their 
malcontent  subjects. 

This  policy  enabled  Elizabeth  to  enjoy  a  profound  peace  during  years 
which  s;iw  nearly  all  the  rest  of  Europe  plunged  in  war  and  misery. 

A.  D.  1580. — The  affairs  of  Scotland  just  at  this  time  gave  Elizabeth 
some  uneasiness.  During  sevcri'l  years  the  regent  Morton  had  kept  that 
kingdom  in  the  strictest  amity.  But  the  regent  had  of  late  wholly  lost  the 
favour  of  the  turbulent  noble .,,  and  he  found  himself  under  the  necessity 
of  giving  in  his  resignation  ,  and  the  government  was  formally  assumed 
by  King  James  himself,  though  he  was  now  only  eleven  years  of  age. 
The  count  D'Aubigny.  of  the  house  of  Lenox,  was  employed  by  the  duke 
of  Guise  to  detach  James  from  the  interests  of  Elizabeth,  and  to  cause 
him  to  espouse  those  of  his  mother.  Elizabeth  endeavoured  to  support 
and  reinstate  Morton,  but  D'Aubigny  had  now  obtained  so  much  influ- 
ence with  the  king,  that  he  was  able  to  have  Morton  imprisoned  and  sub- 
sequently  beheaded,  as  an  accomplice  in  the  murder  of  the  late  king. 

With  Spain,  too,  Elizabeth's  relations  were  at  this  period  uneasy  and 
threatening.  In  revenge  for  the  aid  which  he  knew  Elizabeth  to  have 
given  to  his  revolted  subjects  of  the  Netherlands,  Philip  of  Spain  sent  a 
body  of  troops  to  aid  her  revolted  subjects  of  Ireland  j  and  her  complaints 
of  this  interference  were  answered  by  a  referonce  to  the  piracies  com- 
mitted by  the  celebrated  Admiral  Drake,  who  was  the  first  Englishman 
who  sailed  round  the  world,  and  who  obtained  enormous  booty  from  the 
Spaniards  in  the  New  World. 

A.  n.  1581.— The  Jesuits,  and  the  scholars  generally  of  the  continental 
seminaries  which  the  king  of  Spain  had  established  to  compensate  to  the 
catnolics  for  the  loss  of  the  universities  of  England,  were  so  obviously 
and  so  intrusively  hostile  to  the  queen  and  the  protestant  faith,  that  some 
stringent  laws  against  them  and  the  catholics  generally  were  now  passeu. 
And  let  any  who  feel  inclined  to  condemn  the  severity  of  those  laws  first 
reflect  irion  the  cjntinual  alarm  in  wiiich  both  the  queen  and  her  protest- 
ant subjeuii-  had  been  kept,  by  the  pernicious  exertions  of  men  who  never 
seemed  at  a  loss  for  a  subtle  casuistry  to  induce  or  to  justify  a  brutal  cru- 
elty or  a  violent  sedition. 

Campion,  a  Jesuit  who  had  been  sent  over  to  explain  to  the  catholics  of 
England  that  they  were  not  bound,  in  obedience  to  the  bull  of  Pius  V.,  to 
rebel  until  the  pope  should  give  them  a  second  and  explicit  order  to  thai 
effect — t.  c,  not  until  the  state  of  England  should  by  accident,  or  by  Je- 
suitical practices,  be  placed  in  convenient  confusion ! — being  detected  in 
treasonable  practices  directly  opposed  to  his  professed  errand,  was  first 
put  to  the  rack  and  then  executed. 


THB  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


Ml 


Elizabeth  had  formerly  been  addressed  with  offers  of  marriage  by  Alen- 
gon.now  duke  of  Anjou,  brother  to  the  late  tyrant,  Charles  IX.,  of  France, 
and  he  now  ienewed  his  addresses  through  his  agent  Siniicr,  a  man  of 
great  talent  and  most  insinuatmg  manners.  The  agent  so  well  played 
his  part  in  the  negotiation  that  hrf excited  the  jealousy  of  the  powerful  and 
unprincipled  Leicester,  who  offered  him  every  possible  opposition  and 
insult.  The  queen,  whom  Simier  informed  of  Leicester's  marriage  to  the 
widow  of  the  earl  of  Essex,  formally  took  Simier  under  her  especial  pro 
teetion,  and  ordered  Leicester  to  confine  himself  to  Greenwich. 

Simier  so  well  advocated  the  cause  of  Anjou,  that  Klizabeth  wsnt  so  far 
as  to  invite  that  prince  to  England ;  and,  after  making  stipulations  for  the 
aid  of  France,  should  the  interests  of  Anjou  in  the  Netherlands  involve 
her  in  a  quarrel  with  Philip  of  Spain,  Elizabeth,  in  presence  of  her  whole 
court  and  the  foreign  ambassadors,  placed  a  ring  on  Anjou's  finger,  and 
distinctly  said  that  she  did  so  in  token  of  her  intention  to  become  !iis 
wife.  As  she  was  now  nine-and-forty  years  of  age,  and  might  be  sup- 
posed to  have  outlived  all  the  youthful  fickleness  imputed  to  her  sex,  and 
as  she  gave  orders  to  the  bisliops  to  regulate  the  forms  of  the  marriage, 
every  one  supposed  that  it  was  certain.  Despatches  were  sent  to  notify 
the  approaching  event  abroad,  and  in  many  parts  of  England  it  was  anti- 
cipalively  celebrated  by  public  holiday  and  rejoicing. 

But  the  marriage  of  Elizabeth  to  Anjou  was  looked  upon  with  great  dis- 
like by  the  leading  men  of  the  English  court.  The  duke,  as  a  catholic, 
and  a  member  of  a  most  persecuting  family,  could  not  but  be  viewed  with 
fear  and  suspicion  by  sound  statesmen  like  Walsingham  and  Hatton ; 
while  Leicester,  conscious  that  with  the  queen's  marriage  his  own  vast 
power  and  influence  would  end,  heartily  wished  her  not  to  marry  at  all. 
Tiiese  courtiers  employed  her  favourite  ladies  to  stimulate  her  pride  by 
hinting  the  probability  of  her  husband,  instead  of  herself,  becoming  the 
first  personage  in  her  dominions ;  and  to  appeal  to  her  fears  by  suggesting 
the  dangers  to  which  she  would  be  exposed  should  she  have  children  ;  the 
latter,  surely,  a  danger  not  very  probable  at  her  time  of  life.  However, 
the  courtiers'  artifices  were  fully  successful.  Even  while  the  state  mes- 
sengers were  on  their  way  to  foreign  courts  with  the  news  of  the  queen's 
approaching  marriage,  she  sent  for  Anjou,  and  told  him,  with  tears  and 
protestations  of  regret,  that  her  people  were  so  much  prejudiced  against 
her  union  with  him,  that  though  her  own  happiness  must  needs  be  sacri- 
ficed she  had  resolved  'o  consult  the  happiness  of  her  people,  and,  (!iere- 
fore  could  not  marry  nim.  The  duke  on  leavipw  her  presence  threw  away 
the  costly  ring  she  had  given  him,  and  deck.  '  that  English  women  were 
as  capricious  as  the  waves  that  surround  their  island.  He  soon  after  de- 
parted, and  being  driven  from  Belgium  to  France,  died  there;  deeply  and 
sincerely  regretted  by  Elizabeth. 

A.  D.  1584. — Several  attempts  having  been  made  to  raise  new  troubles  in 
England  in  favour  of  the  queen  of  Scots,  the  ministers  of  Elizabeth  made 
every  exertion  to  detect  the  conspiraioii.  Henry  Piercy,  earl  Northum- 
beil.ind,  brother  to  that  earl  who  was  some  time  before  beheaded  for  his 
connection  with  Mary's  cause;  Howard,  carl  of  Arundel,  son  of  the  duke 
of  Norfolk,  that  princess'  late  suitor;  Lord  Paget  and  Charles  Arundel 
and  Francis  Throgmorton,  a  private  gentleman,  were  implicated.  Most 
of  them  escaped,  but  Throgmorton  was  executed.  Mendoza,  the  Spanish 
ambassador,  who  had  been  the  prime  mover  of  this  plot,  was  sent  home 
in  disgrace.  Some  further  proofs  of  a  widely-spread  and  dangerous  con- 
spiracy having  been  discovered  in  some  papers  .seized  upon  Creighton,  a 
Scottish  Jesuit,  the  English  ministers,  who  found  Mary  connected  with  all 
these  attempts,  removed  her  from  the  custody  of  the  earl  of  Shrewsbury, 
who  seemed  not  to  have  been  sufficiently  watchful  of  her  conduct,  and 
committed  her  to  that  o'"  Sir  Amias  Paulet  and  Sir  Drue  Drury,  men  of 


b32 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY, 


character  and  humanity,  but  too  much  devoted  to  Elizabeth  to  allow  any 
unreasonable  freedom  to  their  prisoner. 

Further  laws  were  at  the  same  time  passed  against  Jesuits  and  popish 
priests,  and  a  founcil  was  named  by  act  of  parliament  with  power  to 
Roveir  the  ki!iy;dom,  settle  the  succession,  and  avenge  the  queen's  death, 
should  that  occur  by  violence.  A  subsidy  and  two  fifteenths  were  like- 
wise  granted  to  the  queen. 

During  this  session  of  parliament  a  new  conspiracy  was  discovered, 
which  greatly  increased  ihe  general  animosity  to  the  catholics,  and  pro- 
portionably  increased  the  attachment  of  the  parliament  to  the  queen,  and 
their  anxiety  to  shield  her  from  the  dangers  by  which  she  seemed  to  be 
perpetually  surrounded.  A  catholic  gentleman  named  Parry,  who  had 
made  himself  so  conspicuous  in  the  house  of  commons  by  his  intemperate 
opposition  to  a  bill  for  restraining  the  seditious  practices  of  Romish  priests, 
that  he  was  committed  to  the  custody  of  the  serjeant-at-arms  and  only 
liberated  by  the  clemency  of  the  queen,  was  now,  in  but  little  less  than 
six  weeks,  charged  with  high  treason.  This  man  had  been  employed  as 
a  secret  agent  by  Lord  Burleigh,  but  not  deeming  himself  sufficiently  well 
treated  he  went  to  Italy,  where  he  seems  to  have  deeply  intrigued  v/ith 
both  the  papal  party  at  Rome  and  the  ministers  of  his  own  sovereign  at 
home.  Having  procured  from  the  Romish  authorities  a  warm  sanction 
of  his  professed  design  of  killing  Queen  Elizabeth  with  his  own  hand,  this 
sanction  he  hastened  to  communicate  to  Elizabeth,  and  being  refused  a 
pension  he  returned  to  his  old  vocation  of  a  spy,  and  was  employed  to 
watch  the  pernicious  Jesuit  Persons,  in  conjunction  with  Nevil.  Though 
actually  in  the  service  of  the  government,  both  Nevil  and  Parry  were 
men  of  desperate  fortune,  and  their  discontent  at  length  grew  so  desperate 
that  they  agreed  to  shoot  the  queen  when  she  should  be  out  riding.  The 
earl  of  Westmoreland,  under  sentence  of  exile,  chanced  to  die  just  at  this 
period,  and  Nevil,  who,  though  a  salaried  spy,  was  also  in  exile  in  Nor- 
mandy, thought  it  very  likely  that  he,  as  next  heir  to  the  deceased  earl, 
would  recover  the  family  estate  and  title  by  revealing  the  plot  to  which 
he  was  a  party.  Nevil's  revealments  to  the  government  were  confirmed 
by  Parry's  own  confession,  and  the  latter,  a  double  traitor — alike  traitor 
to  his  native  land  and  to  his  spiritual  sovereign — was  very  deservedly 
executed. 

A  fleet  of  twenty  sail  under  Admiral  Sir  Francis  Drake,  with  a  land 
force  of  two  thousand  three  hundred  volunteers  under  Christopher  Car- 
lisle, did  the  Spaniards  immense  mischief  this  year,  taking  St.  Jajo,  near 
Cape  Verd,  where  they  got  good  store  of  provision,  but  little  money ;  St. 
Domingo,  where  they  made  the  inhabitants  save  their  houses  by  the  pay. 
ment  of  a  large  sum  of  money  ;  and  Carthagena,  which  they  similarly 
held  to  ransom.  On  the  coast  of  Florida  they  burned  the  towns  of  St. 
Anthony  and  St.  Helen's  ;  and  thence  they  went  to  the  coast  of  Virginia, 
where  they  found  the  miserable  remnant  of  the  colony  so  long  before 
planted  there  by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  The  poor  colonists  were  at  this 
time  reduced  to  utter  misery  and  despair  by  long  continued  ill  success, 
and  gladly  abandoned  their  settlements  and  returned  home  on  board 
Drake's  fleet.  The  enormous  wealth  that  was  brought  home  by  that  gal- 
lant commander,  and  the  accounts  given  by  his  men  of  both  the  riches 
and  the  weakness  of  the  Spaniards,  made  the  notion  of  piracy  upon  the 
Spanish  main  extremely  popular,  and  caused  much  evil  energy  to  be  eia 
ployed  in  that  direction,  which  would  otherwise  have  been  of  serious  an 
noyance  to  the  government  at  home. 

Meanwhile  the  earl  of  Leicester,  who  had  been  sent  to  Holland  in  com 
mand  of  the  English  auxiliary  forces  to  aid  the  states  against  Spain 
proved  himself  to  be  unfit  for  any  extensive  military  power.  His  retii:  jc 
was  princely  in  splendour,  and  his  courtly  manners  and  intriguing  spiri 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


633 


L'aused  him  to  be  named  captain-general  of  the  United  Provinee»,  and  to 
have  the  guards  and  honours  of  a  sovereign  prince.  But  here  his  achieve- 
ments, which  gave  deep  offence  to  Klizaoelh,  began  to  diminish  in  bril- 
liancy. Though  nobly  aided  by  his  nephew,  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  one  of  the 
most  gallant  and  accomplished  gentlemen  who  have  ever  do.*ic  honour  to 
England,  he  was  decidedly  inferior  to  the  task  of  opposing  so  accomplish- 
ed a  general  as  the  prince  of  Parma.  He  succeeded  in  the  fiist  instance 
in  repulsing  the  Spaniards  and  throwing  succours  into  Grave;  but  the 
cowardi';e  or  treachery  of  Van  Hemert— who  was  af'.erwards  put  to  death 
pursuant  to  the  sentence  of  a  court  martial — betrayed  (he  pJace  to  the 
Spaniards.  Venlo  was  taken  by  the  prince  of  Parma,  as  was  Nuys,  and 
the  prince  then  sal  down  before  Rhimberg.  To  draw  the  prince  from  be- 
fore this  last  named  place,  which  was  garrisoned  l^y  twelve  hundred  men 
well  provided  with  stores,  and  upon  which,  consequently,  Leicester  should 
have  allowed  the  prince  to  have  wasted  his  strength  and  Men  have  brought 
him  to  action,  Leicester  laid  siege  to  Zutphen.  The  prince  thought  this 
place  far  too  important  to  be  allowed  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  English, 
and  he  hastened  to  its  aid,  sending  an  advanced  guard  under  the  marquis 
of  Cuesto  to  throw  relief  into  the  fortress.  A  body  of  English  cavalry 
fell  in  with  this  advance,  and  a  gallant  action  commenced,  in  which  the 
Spaniards  were  completely  routed,  with  the  loss  of  the  marquis  of  Gonza- 
go,  an  Italian  noble  of  great  military  reputation  and  abiKty,  In  this  ac- 
tion, however,  the  English  were  so  urifortunate  as  to  lose  the  noble  Sir 
Philip  Sidney,  whose  accomplishments,  humanity,  and  love  of  literature 
made  him  the  idol  of  the  great  writers  of  the  age.  The  humanity  which 
had  marked  his  whole  life  was  conspicuous  even  in  the  last  sad  scene  of 
his  death.  Dreadfully  wounded,  and  tortured  with  a  raging  thirst,  he  was 
about  to  have  a  bottle  of  water  applied  to  his  parched  lips,  when  he  caught 
the  eyes  of  a  poor  private  soldier  who  lay  near  him  in  the  like  fevered 
stale,  and  was  looking  at  the  bottle  with  the  eager  envy  which  only  the 
wounded  soldier  and  the  desert  wanderer  can  know.  "  Give  him  the  wa- 
ter," said  the  dying  hero,  "  his  necessity  is  still  greater  than  mine." 

While  Leicester  was  barely  keeping  ground  against  Spain  in  the  Neth- 
erlands, and  Drake  was  astounding  and  ruining  the  Spaniards  in  various 
parts  of  the  New  World,  Elizabeth  was  cautiously  securing  herself  on  the 
side  of  Scotland.  Having  obtained  James's  alliance  by  a  dexterous  ad- 
mixture of  espionage  and  more  open  conduct,  Elizabeth  felt  Ihat  she  had 
but  little  to  fear  from  foreign  invasions  ;  it  being  stipulated  in  their  league 
"that  if  Elizabeth  were  invaded,  James  should  aid  her  with  a  body  of  two 
thousand  horse  and  five  thousand  foot ;  that  Elizabeth,  in  the  like  case, 
should  send  to  his  assistance  three  thousand  horse  and  six  thousand  foot; 
that  the  charge  of  these  armies  should  be  defrayed  by  the  prince  who  de- 
manded assistance;  that  if  the  invasion  should  be  made  upon  England, 
within  sixty  miles  of  the  frontiers  of  Scotland.  ,his  latter  kingdom  should 
march  its  v, hole  force  to  the  assistance  of  the  former;  and  that  the  pres- 
ent league  should  supersede  all  former  alliances  of  either  state  with  any 
foreign  kingdom  so  far  as  religion  was  concerned." 

And,  in  truth,  it  was  requisite  that  Elizabeth  should  b^  well  prepared  at 
home,  for  her  enemies  abroad  grew  more  and  more  furious  against  her, 
as  every  new  occurrence  more  strongly  displayed  the  sagacity  of  her 
ministers  and  her  own  prudence  and  firmness  in  supporting  them.  Partly 
on  account  of  the  imprisonment  of  the  queen  of  Scots,  but  chiefly  on  ac- 

jount  of  those  rigorous  laws  which  their  own  desperate  and  shameful 
conduct  daily  made  more  necessary,  the  foreign  papists,  and  still  more 

he  English  seminary  at  Rheims,  had  become  wrought  up  to  so  Violent  a 

fury,  tiiai  nothing  short  of  the  assassination  of  Elizabeth  was  now  deemed 

worthy  their  contemplation, 
lolm  Ballard,  a  priest  of  the  seminary  at  Rheims,  having  been  engaged 


.Ur^ 


534 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


in  notifing  and  stirring  up  the  ranatical  zeal  of  the  catholies  of  En^^.and 
and  Scotland,  proposed,  on  his  return  to  Rheims,  the  attempt  to  d»'ihroiie 
Elizabeth  and  to  re-establish  papat-y  in  England,  an  enterprise  which  lie 
pretended  to  think  practicable,  ancl  that,  too,  without  any  extraordinary 
diflTicully.  At  nearly  the  same  tinie  a  desperate  and  gloomy  fanatic,  John 
Savage,  who  had  served  for  several  years  under  the  prince  of  Parma  in 
the  Low  Countries,  and  who  was  celebrated  for  a  most  indomitable  reso- 
lution, offered  to  assassinate  Elizabeth  with  his  own  hands.  As  that  deed 
would  greatly  facilitate  the  proposed  revolution  in  England,  the  priests  of 
Rheims,  who  had  long  preached  up  the  virtuous  and  lawful  character  of 
the  assassination  of  heretical  sovereigns,  encouraged  him  in  hitt  desjirn, 
which  he  vowed  to  pursue,  and  the  more  fanatical  catholics  of  England 
were  instructed  to  lend  him  all  possible  aid.  Savage  was  speedily  fol- 
lowed to  England  by  Ballard,  who  took  the  name  of  Captain  Fortescup, 
and  busied  himself  night  and  day  \n  preparing  means  to  avail  himself  of 
the  awe  and  confusion  in  which  the  nation  could  not  fail  to  be  plunged  by 
the  success  of  the  attbn^pt  which  he  doubted  not  that  Savage  would 
speedily  make. 

Anthony  Babington,  a  Derbyshire  gentleman,  had  long  been  known  to 
the  initiated  abroad  as  a  bigoted  catholic  and  as  a  romantic  lover  of  the 
imprisoned  queen  of  Scots.  To  thi.i  prentleman,  who  had  the  property 
and  station  requisite  to  render  him  useful  to  the  conspirators,  Balliird  ad- 
dressed himself.  To  restore  the  catholic  religion  and  place  Mary  on  the 
throne  of  England,  Babington  considered  an  enterprise  that  fully  warrant- 
ed  the  murder  of  Elizabeth  ;  but  he  objected  lo  .'ntrusting  the  execution 
of  so  important  a  preliminary  to  the  proposed  revolution  to  one  hand. 
The  slightest  nervousness  or  error  of  that  one  man,  Babington  tndy  re- 
marked, would  probably  involve  the  lives  or  fortunes  of  all  the  chief 
catholics  in  England.  He  proposed,  therefore,  that  five  others  should  be 
joined  to  Savago  in  the  charge  oi'  the  assassination.  So  desperate  was 
the  villainy  of  Savage,  and  he  was  so  angry  at  this  proposed  division  of  a 
cruel  and  cowardly  treason,  that  it  was  only  with  some  difficulty  that  his 
priestly  colleague  induced  him  to  share  what  the  wretch  impiously  termed 
the  "  glory"  of  the  deed,  with  Barnwell,  Charnock,  Tiliiey,  and  Tichborue; 
all  of  them  gentlemen  of  station,  character,  and  wealth;  and  Babington, 
also  a  man  of  wealth,  character,  and  station,  which  he  owed  to  the  former 
service  of  his  father  as  cofferer  to  the  very  queen  whom  it  was  now  pro- 
posed to  slay !     Such  is  that  terrible /on*  criminis,  fanaticism  ! 

It  was  determined  that  at  the  very  same  hour  at  which  Savage  and  his 
colleagues  should  assassinate  Elizabeth,  the  queen  of  Scots  should  be  out 
riding,  when  Babington,  with  Edward,  broker  of  Lord  Windsor,  and  sev- 
eral other  gentlemen,  at  the  head  of  a  hundred  horse,  should  attack  her 
guards  and  escort  her  to  London,  where  she  would  be  proclaimed  amid 
the  acclamrttions  of  the  conspirators,  and,  doubtless,  all  catholics  who 
tihould  see  her. 

That  Ibis  hellish  plot  would  have  succeeded  there  can  be  little  doubt 
but  for  the  watchful  eye  of  Walsingham,  which  had  from  the  first  been 
upon  Ballard ;  and  while  that  person  was  busily  plotting  a  revolution 
which,  commencing  with  the  assassination  of  the  queen,  would  almost 
infallibly  have  ended  wiih  a  general  massacre  of  the  protestants,  he  was 
unconsciously  telling  a' 1  his  principal  proceedings  to  Walsingham,  that 
able  and  resolute  minister  having  placed  spies  about  him  who  reported 
everything  of  importance  to  the  secretary.  Giflford,  another  seminary 
priest,  also  entered  the  puy  of  the  minister,  and  enabled  him  to  obtain 
copies  of  correspondence  between  Babington  and  the  queen  of  Scots,  in 
which  he  spoke  of  the  murder  ot  Elizabeth  as  a  tragical  execution  which 
he  would  willingly  undertake  for  Mary's  sake  and  service,  and  she  replied 
that  she  highly  approved  of  the  whole  plan,  including  the  assassination  ot 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


635 


ihe  queen,  a  general  insurrection  aided  by  foreign  invasion,  and  Mary's 
awn  deliverance.  Nay,  the  queen  of  Scots  went  still  farther ;  she  said 
that  the  gentlemen  engaged  in  this  enterprise  might  expect  all  the  reward 
it  should  ever  be  in  her  power  to  bestow ;  and  reminded  them  that  it 
would  be  but  lost  labour  to  attempt  an  insurrection,  or  even  her  own  re- 
lease from  her  cruel  imprisonment,  until  FJIizabeth  were  dead. 

We  have  not  scrupled  to  declare  our  dislik«  o<"  the  original  conduct  of 
Elizabeth,  so  far  as  we  deem  it  criminal  or  mean.  But  we  cannot  there- 
fore shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact,  that  though  party  writers  have  made  many 
and  zealous  attempts  to  show  that  the  whole  plot  was  of  Walsingham'a 
contrivance,  the  evidence  against  Mary  was  as  comi  lete  and  satisCactorjr 
as  human  evidence  could  be.  That  Walsingham  employed  spies,  that 
these  were  chiefly  priests  who  were  false  to  their  own  party,  and  that 
some  of  them  were  men  of  bad  character — what  do  Uiese  things  prove! 
Circumstanced  as  Walsingham  was,  knowing  his  queen's  life  to  be  in 
perpetual  danger  from  restless  and  desperate  plotters,  we  really  cannot 
gee  how  he  was  to  avoid  that  resort  to  spies,  which  under  any  other  cir- 
cumstances we  should  be  among  the  first  to  denounce.  But  with  whom, 
then,  did  these  spies  act  1  With  catholics  of  station  and  wealth,  whom 
no  spies  could  possibly  have  engaged  in  perilous  and  wicked  proceedings, 
but  for  their  own  fierce  fanaticism.  And  how  and  from  whom  did  these 
spies  procure  Walsingham  the  important  letters  which  divulged  all  the 
particulars  of  the  intended  villainy  ?  By  letter  carrying  from  Mary  to  the 
enamoured  Babington,  and  from  Babington  to  Mary.  What  film  bigotry 
may  throw  over  the  eyes  of  fierce  political  partisans  we  know  not,  but 
assuredly  wu  can  imagine  nothing  to  be  clearer  than  the  guilt  of  Mary, 
as  far  as  she  could  be  guilty  of  conspiring  against  the  life  of  Elizabeth — 
who  had  so  long  imbittered  her  life  and  deprived  her  of  all  enjoyment  of 
her  crown  and  kingdom,  who  had  mocked  her  with  repeated  promises 
which  she  never  intended  to  fulfil,  and  who  had  carried  the  arts  of  policy 
so  far  as  to  outrage  nature  by  making  the  utter  neglect  of  the  imprisoned 
mother  a  tacit  condition,  at  the  least,  of  friendship  and  alliance  with  the 
reigning  son.  The  commissioners  on  their  return  from  Fotheringay  cas- 
tle pronounced  sentence  of  death  upon  Mary,  queen  of  Scots,  but  accom- 
panied the  sentence  with  what — considering  that  from  the  moment  of  her 
abdication  in  his  favour,  his  right  to  reign  became  wholly  independent  of 
his  mother — seemed  a  somewhat  unnecessary  clause  of  exception  in  fa- 
vour of  James;  which  said  that  "  the  sentence  did  in  no  wise  derogate 
from  the  title  and  honour  of  James,  king  of  Scotland  ;  but  that  he  was  in 
the  same  place,  degree,  and  right,  as  if  the  sentence  had  never  been  pro- 
nounced." 

It  is  an  extraordinary  fact,  and  one  which  is  unnoticed  not  only  by  the 
partial  writers  who  have  endeavoured  to  throw  the  deserved  degree  of 
blame  upon  Klizabeth,  and  also  to  represent  Mary  as  altogether  free  from 
Diame  even  where  her  criminality  was  the  most  glaringly  evident,  but 
even  by  the  impartial  Hume,  that  when  the  sentence  on  Mary  was  pub- 
lished in  London,  the  people  received  it,  not  with  the  sadness  and  silence 
or  the  fierce  and  fiery  remonstrance  with  which  the  English  are  wont  to 
rebuke  or  restrain  evil  doing,  but  by  the  ringing  of  bells,  lighting  of  bon 
fires,  and  all  the  ordinary  tokens  of  public  rejoicing.  Does  not  this  sin 
gle  fact  go  to  prove  that  it  was  notorious  that  Mary,  during  her  confine- 
ment, was  perpetually  plotting  against  the  life  of  the  (jueen,  and  endeav- 
ouring to  deliver  England  and  Scotland  over  to  the  worst  horrors  that 
could  befall  them — the  restoration  of  papacy  and  the  arbitrary  rule  of 
Philip  of  Spain  ?  We  repeat,  whatever  the  former  conduct  of  Elizabeth, 
Mary  of  Scotland  was  now  notoriously  a  public  enemy,  prepared  to  slay 
the  queen  and  expose  the  protestants  of  the  nation  to  massacre,  so  that 
she  might  obtain  her  own  personal  liberty,  and  take  away  the  liberty  of 


hi*"" 


536 


THE  TRBA8IJEY  OF  Hid'  '-aT. 


conscience  from  the  wliole  ni)tion.  That  this  was  the  true  state  of  the 
case  was  made  evident  not  merely  by  the  rejuicings  of  the  multitiide  out 
of  doors,  but  by  the  solemn  apphcation  of  the  parliament  to  Elizabeth  to 
allow  the  sentence  to  bo  executed.  The  king  of  France,  chiefly  by  the 
compulsion  of  the  house  of  '^ruise  and  the  league,  interceded  for  Mary ; 
and  James  of  Scotland,  who  had  hitherto  been  a  most  cold  and  neglectful 
son,  whatever  might  be  the  errors  of  his  mother,  now  sent  the  master  of 
Gray  and  Sir  Robert  Melvil  to  try  both  arginnent  and  menace  upon  Ejiz. 
abelh. 

Most  historians  seem  to  be  of  opinion  that  the  reluctance  which  Eliza- 
beth for  some  lime  exhibited  to  comply  with  what  was  undoubtedly  the 
wish  of  her  people,  the  execution  of  Mary,  was  wholly  feigned.  We 
greatly  doubt  it.  That  Elizabeth  both  hated  and  feared  Mary  was 
inevitable ;  Mary's  position,  her  bigotry,  the  personal  ill-feeling  she 
had  often  shown  towards  Elizabeth,  and  her  obvious  willingness  to 
sacrifice  her  hi  ,  were  surely  not  additions  to  the  character  of  a  woman 
who  had  connived  at  her  husband's  death  and  then  married  his  murderer, 
which  could  have  engendered  any  kindly  feelings  on  the  part  of  a  princess 
so  harrassed  and  threatened  as  Elizabeth  was  by  the  faction  of  which 
Mary,  in  England  at  least,  was  the  recognised  head.  But  apa^l  from  all 
womanly  and  humane  relenting,  Elizabeth  could  not  but  be  conscious 
that  the  death  of  Mary  would  cause  a  great  accession  to  the  rage  of  the 
catholic  powers  ;  and  apathetic  as  James  had  shown  himself  hitherto,  it 
was  but  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  violent  death  of  his  mother  would 
rouse  him  into  active  enmity  to  England.  However,  the  queen's  hesita- 
tion, real  or  assumed,  was  at  length  overcome,  and  she  signed  the  fatal 
warrant  which  Davison,  her  secretary,  acting  under  the  orders  and  advice 
of  Lord  Burleigh,  Leicestoi,  and  others  of  the  council,  forthwith  dispatch- 
ed to  Fotheringay  by  the  earl'  of  Shrewsbury  and  Kent,  who  were  charged 
with  seeing  it  executed. 

A.  D.  1587. — Immediately  on  the  arrival  of  the  two  earls,  they  read  the 
warrant,  and  warned  Mary  to  be  prepared  for  execution  at  eight  on  the 
following  morning.  She  received  the  news  with  apparent  resignation; 
professed  that  she  could  not  have  believed  that  Elizabeth  would  have  en- 
forced  such  a  sentence  upon  a  person  not  subject  to  the  laws  and  jurisdic. 
tion  of  England,  but  added,  •'  As  such  is  her  will,  death,  which  puts  an 
end  to  all  my  miseries,  shall  be  to  me  most  welcome  ;  nor  can  I  esteem 
that  soul  worthy  the  felicities  of  heaven  which  cannot  support  the  body 
under  the  horrors  of  the  last  passage  to  those  blissful  mansions." 

She  then  asked  for  the  admission  of  her  own  chaplain,  but  the  earl  ol 
Kent  said  that  tlie  attendance  of  a  papist  priest  was  unnecessary,  as 
Fletcher,  dean  of  Peterborough,  a  most  learned  and  pious  divine,  would 
afford  her  uU  necessary  consolation  and  instruction.  She  refused  to  see 
him,  which  so  much  angered  the  earl  of  Keiit,  that  he  coarsely,  though 
truly  told  her  that  her  death  would  be  the  life  of  the  protestant  religion, 
as  her  life  would  have  been  the  death  of  it. 

Having  taken  a  sparing  and  early  supper,  the  unhappy  Mary  passed  the 
night  in  making  a  distribution  of  her  effects  and  in  religious  offices,  unti 
her  usual  hour  for  retiring, when  she  went  to  bed  and  slept  for  some  hours 
She  rose  very  early,  and  resumed  her  religious  exercises,  using  a  conse- 
crated host  which  had  been  sent  to  her  by  Pope  Pius. 

As  the  fatal  hour  approached  she  dressed  herself  in  a  rich  habit  of  vel- 
vet and  silk.  Scarcely  had  she  done  so  when  Andrews,  sheriff  of  the 
county,  entered  the  room  and  summoned  her  to  the  last  dread  scene,  to 
which  she  was  supported  by  two  of  Sir  Amias  Paulet's  guards,  an  infirm- 
ity in  her  limbs  preventing  her  from  walking  without  aid.  As  she  entered 
the  hall  adjoming  her  room  she  w.is  met  by  the  earls  of  Shrewsbury  and 
Kent,  Sir  Amias  Paulet,  Sir  Drue  Drury,  and  other  gentlemen ;  uau  hers 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


637 


We 


earl  ol 

lary,  as 

would 

to  see 

Itioiigh 

iligion, 


;ene,  to 
infirm- 
entereii 
ury  and 
luii  hcra 


Kir  AnHrew  Melvil,  her  attached  steward,  threw  himself  upon  his  kneca 
bfifore  her,  lamt'ntinp  her  fate  and  wringing  his  hands  in  an  apony  of  real 
and  doep  grief.  SI.e  conr.forted  i.im  by  assurances  of  her  own  perfect  re- 
signation, bade  him  report  in  Sc^Mand  that  she  died  a  true  wonuin  to  her 
Ttiigion,  and  said,  ae  she  resumed  her  way  to  the  scafTold,  "  Recommend 
me,  Melvil,  to  my  son,  and  tell  him  that,  notwilhstandiuK  all  my  distresses, 
I  have  done  nothing  prejudicial  to  the  stat^^  and  kingdom  of  Scotland. 
And  now,  my  ""od  Melvil,  farewell;  once  again,  farewell,  good  Melvil, 
and  grant  the  assistance  of  thy  pnr/^rs  to  thy  queen  and  mistress." 

She  now  ti'.n>.'i  to  the  earls,  and  begged  that  hor  servants  might  freely 
enjoy  the  preseiiS  the  had  given  them  and  be  sent  safely  to  their  own 
ooiir.try  ;  all  wnicn  was  readily  promised.  But  the  earls  objected  to  the 
adi  ;ission  of  her  attendants  to  the  execution,  and  some  difficulty  was 
even  made  about  any  of  them  being  present  in  her  last  moments.  This 
really  harsh  refusal  roused  her  to  a  degree  of  anger  she  had  not  previ- 
ously shown,  and  she  indignantly  said  to  the  earls,  "  I  know  that  your 
mistress,  being  a  maiden  queen,  would  vouchsafe,  in  regard  of  woman- 
hood, that  I  should  have  some  of  n'  '  own  people  about  me  at  my  death. 
I  know  that  her  majesty  hath  not  given  you  any  such  strict  command  but 
that  you  might  grant  me  a  request  of  far  greater  courtesy,  even  though  I 
were  a  woman  of  inferior  rank  to  that  which  I  bear.  I  am  cousin  to 
your  queen,  and  descended  from  the  blood  royal  of  Henry  Vlli.,  and  a 
mnrried  queen  of  France,  and  uu  anointed  queen  of  Scotland." 

Phis  remonstrance  had  due  effect,  and  she  was  allowed  to  select  four 
of  her  male  and  two  of  her  female  servants  to  attend  her  to  the  scaffold  ; 
her  steward,  physician,  apothecary,  and  surgeon,  with  her  maids  Curie 
and  Kennedy. 

Thus  attended,  she  was  led  into  an  adjoining  hall,  in  which  was  a 
crowd  of  spectators,  and  the  scaffold,  covered  with  black  cloth.  The 
warrant  having  been  read,  the  dean  of  Peterborough  stepped  forward  and 
addressed  her  in  exhortation  to  repentance  of  her  sins,  acknowledgment 
of  the  justice  of  her  sentence,  and  reliance  for  mercy  and  salvation  only 
upon  the  mediation  and  merits  of  Christ.  During  the  dean's  address 
Mary  several  times  endeavourer  to  interrupt  him,  and  at  the  conclusion 
she  said,  "Trouble  not  yourself  any  more  about  the  matter,  for  I  was 
()orn  in  this  religion,  I  have  lived  in  this  religion,  and  1  will  die  in  this 
u'.igion." 

She  now  ascended  the  scaffold,  saying  to  Paulet,  who  lent  her  his  arm, 
"I  thank  you,  sir;  it  is  the  last  trouble  I  shall  give  you,  and  the  most 
acceptable  service  that  you  have  e\  fv  rendered  me."  The  queen  of  Scots 
now,  in  a  firm  voice,  told  the  pers'ir.s>  assembled  that  "  She  would  have 
them  recollect  that  she  was  a  sovei  ign  princess,  not  subject  to  the  par- 
liament of  England,  but  brought  thf^re  to  suffer  by  violence  and  injustice. 
She  thanked  God  for  having  give.,  her  this  opportunity  to  make  public 
profession  of  her  faith,  and  to  declare,  as  she  often  before  had  declared 
that  she  had  never  imagined,  nor  compassed,  nor  consented  to  t'.e  death 
of  the  English  queen,  nor  even  sought  the  least  harm  to  her  person.  Af- 
ter her  death  many  things,  which  were  then  buried  in  darkness,  would 
come  to  tight.  But  she  pardoned,  from  her  heart,  all  her  enemies,  nor 
should  her  tongue  utter  that  which  might  chance  to  prejudice  them." 

Ai  a  sign  from  tlie  earls  the  w^' ping  maid  servants  now  advanced 
to  disrobe  their  mistress.  The  executioners,  in  their  sordid  fear  lest  they 
should  thus  lose  their  perquisites,  the  rich  attire  of  the  queen,  hastily  in 
terfered.  Mary  blushed  and  drew  back,  observing  that  she  had  not  been 
accustomed  to  undress  before  such  an  audience,  or  to  be  served  by  such 
valets.  But,  as  no  interference,  wa>  nade  by  the  earls  she  submitted; 
her  neck  was  bared ;  her  maid,  Kennedy,  pinned  a  handkerchief,  edged 
with  gold,  over  her  eyes  ;  and  an  executioner  taking  hold  of  each  of  her 


588 


THE  TRBASiyRY  OF  HI8T0ET. 


arrn«,  led  her  to  Uic  Id  i;k,  upon  which  ^he  laid  her  head,  saying  i    'ibiy 
and  ill  firm  tones,  "  Into  thv  hiuidH,  O  (Jod,  1  i  ommend  my  h|)ii;(,." 

Tho  exeeuiioner  nww  adVHncfd,  but  was  so  complelelv  uniif'-wl  thai 
his  first  blow  missed  the  neck,  decnly  wounding  tlie  Kkulf;  h  si  und  wks 
li'  WI80  ineffuetual ;  at  the  third  the  licad  was  severed  froir  th<?  hixjy, 
T!  .inhappy  lady  evidently  died  in  intense  agony,  for  when  ho  exhilniud 
tliu  head  to  the  siMjctators,  the  muscles  of  'r-  face  were  ho  distorltd  that 
the  features  couio  scarcely  be  recognised. 

When  tile  executioner,  on  exhibiting  tiu  iicad,  cried  "  God  save  (^iicen 
Ehzabeth,"  tho  dean  of  Peterborough  replied,  '*  And  so  perish  all  her  one 
mies  ;*'  to  which  the  c;irl  of  Kent  added,  "So  perish  all  ti.o  enemies  of  the 
gospel." 

The  body  was  on  the  following  day  embalmed  and  buried  in  Peter. 
borough  i;atliedrul,  whence,  in  the  next  reign,  it  was  removed  to  West- 
minster  abbey. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 
THB  REioN  or  ELIZABETH  {conltnued.) 

A.  D.  1687. — The  tragical  scene  we  have  just  described  must  have  con. 
vinced  even  the  most  devoted  of  Elizabeth's  subjects  that  their  "virgm 
queen"  was  not  over-abundantly  blessed  with  the  "  god-lii<e  quality  of 
mercy,"  whatever  opinion  they  might  entertain  of  Mary's  participation  in 
the  crime  for  which  sho  suffered.  But  there  are  many  circumstances  con- 
nected with  the  history  of  this  period  whicii  may  be  pleaded  in  extonua- 
tion  of  conduct  that  in  less  critical  times  could  only  be  viewed  with  un- 
alloyed abhorrence  and  disgust.  Tho  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  was 
still  fresh  in  the  recollection  of  every  one,  and  the  bigoted  zeal  which  the 
queen  of  Scots  ever  displayed  in  favour  of  the  catholics,  whose  ascend- 
ancy  in  England  she  ardently  desired,  gave  a  mournful  presage  of  wlut 
was  to  be  expected  by  the  protestant  population  should  their  opponents 
succeed  in  their  desperate  machinations.  Neither  must  we  disregard  the 
assertion,  so  often  made  and  never  disproved,  that  when  Eliz:ibetli  signed 
the  warrant  of  execution,  she  not  only  did  so  with  much  apparent  reiiii- 
tance,  but  placed  it  in  the  hands  of  Davison,  her  private  secretary,  ex- 
pressly charging  him  not  to  use  it  without  farther  orders.  Whatever,  in- 
deed, may  have  been  her  secret  wishes,  or  real  intentions,  her  subseqnent 
behaviour  had  the  semblance  of  unfeigned  sorrow.  Could  it  be  proved  to 
have  been  otherwise,  no  one  would  deny  that  her  conduct  througiiout  was 
characterized  by  unparalleled  hypocrisy — a  profound  dissimulation  written 
in  characters  of  blood. 

Elizabeth,  in  fact,  did  what  she  could  to  throw  off  the  odium  that  this 
sanguinary  transaction  had  cast  upon  her.  She  wrote  to  the  king  oi 
Scotland  in  terms  of  the  deepest  regret,  declaring  that  the  warrant  she 
had  been  induced  to  sign  was  to  have  lain  dormant,  and,  in  proof  of  hei 
sincerity,  she  imprisoned  Davison,  and  fined  him  in  the  sum  of  10,000/, 
which  reduced  him  to  a  state  not  far  removed  from  actual  beggary. 

One  of  the  most  memorable  events  in  English  history  was  now  near  at 
hand ;  one  v/hich  called  for  all  the  energy  and  patriotic  devotion  that  a 
brave  and  independent  people  were  capable  of  making ;  and,  consequently, 
every  minor  consideration  vanished  at  its  approach.  This  was  the  pro< 
iected  invasion  of  England  by  Philip  of  Spain.  This  monarcli,  disap- 
pointed in  his  hopes  of  marrying  Elizabeth,  returned  the  queen  her  collar 
of  the  garter,  and  from  that  time  the  most  irreconcilable  jealousy  appears 
to  have  existed  between  them.  In  all  the  ports  throughout  his  extensive 
dominions  the  note  of  preparation  was  heard,  and  the  most  powerful  nary 


TUB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


SM 


that  hal  rvor  br*»n  colloftod  was  now  at  his  (linposal.  An  nrmy  of  r)0,(H)j 
men  wcri'  iIho  iisurinbleil,  under  cxperiencod  geniTiiH,  luid  tin-  command 
of  till'  wliolt!  was  Riven  to  tlio  celebrated  duke  of  Parma.  'I'lio  (-atliolies 
on  llie  routineut  wre  in  an  ecslacy  of  delijjJit  ;  tlit;  pope  liewlowed  tns 
bencdi'" ion  on  an  ex|)edition  that  seemed  destined  once  more  to  restore 
thrsni  inacy  of  the  holy  s«-e,  and  it  was  unanimously  hutlcd  by  all  who 
wished  it  sucecHS  an  the  invmnhU  armada. 

To  repel  this  migluy  array,  no  means  within  the  reach  of  Elizabeth  and 
her  atile  ministers  were  forgotten,  nor  could  anything  exceed  the  enthusi- 
astic deirrniiiiation  of  her  subjects  to  defend  their  altars  and  their  homes. 
Among  the  newly  raised  levies  the  militia  formed  a  very  important  item  ; 
ihe  nobility  also  vied  with  each  other  in  their  elTorts  of  assistanee;  and 
Lord  Huntingdon  alone  raised  40,000  foot  and  10,000  horse.  The  royal 
navy  had,  fortunately,  been  on  the  inci  iso  for  a  loiiir  time  previous,  and 
the  successful  cxorlions  of  Admiral  Urai./;  in  the  Inilicis  had  infused  a  de- 
gree of  eonfidcnce  into  our  sailor*   hcf  re  unknown  in  tiio  service. 

The  viiiws  of  the  Spanish  kiii;  been  fully  ascertained  by  the 


'  "'mps  to  be  cantoned  along 

nunncr  that  in  forty-eight 

\'  port  where  there  was  a 

and  well-disciplined  corps, 

.;d  at  Tilbury   tort,  near  the 

command  of  the  earl  of  Lei- 


emissarics  of  Elizabeth,  she  ord' 
the  southern  coast  of  the  kiiigdc 
hours  the  whole  miglit  be  asst 
probability  of  the  enemy's  landiiij^ 
also,  amounting  to  24,000  men,  was  eiicaiii; 
mouth  of  the  Thames,  under  the  immediaiu 
cester,  who  was  appointed  gcneralissin:./  of  the  army.  These  troops  the 
queen  reviewed,  and  having  harangue  1  thein,  rode  through  the  lines  wiih 
Uie  general — her  manner  evincing  great  firmness  and  intrepidity,  which 
while  it  gave  e<r/at  to  the  scene,  filled  every  breast  with  patriotic  ardour. 
The  residue  of  her  troops,  amounting  to  34,000  foot  and  2,000  horse,  re- 
mained about  the  queen's  person;  and  the  militia  were  in  readiness  to 
reinforce  the  regular  troops  wherever  there  might  be  occasion. 

All  the  ports  and  accessible  points  on  the  coast  were  fortified  and  strong- 
ly garrisoned ;  but  though  orders  were  given  to  oppose  the  enemy's  de- 
scent, wherever  it  might  be,  the  respective  commanders  were  directed  not 
to  come  to  a  general  engagement  in  the  event  of  their  landing,  but  to  re- 
lire  and  lay  waste  the  country  before  them,  that  the  Spaniards  might 
meet  with  no  subsistence,  and  be  perpetually  harassed  in  their  march. 
Nor  was  anything  left  undone  that  might  be  likely  to  contribute  to  the 
defeat  of  the  armada  by  sea.  Lord  Howard  of  Effingham  was  created 
lord  high  admiral,  and  Sir  Francis  Drake  vice-admiral,  who,  together  with 
Hawkins  and  Frobisher,  were  stationed  near  Plymouth,  to  oppose  the 
enemy  as  he  entered  the  channel ;  while  Lord  Henry  Seymour  commanded 
another  fleet  upon  the  coast  of  Flanders,  to  prevent  the  duke  of  Parma 
from  bringing  over  troops  from  that  quarter. 

A.  D.  1588. — The  armada  sailed  from  Lisbon  on  the  30th  of  May,  but 
bning  dispersed  by  a  storm,  rendezvoused  at  Corunna  and  did  not  enter 
the  English  channel  until  the  19lh  of  July,  when  Effingham  suffered  tbera 
to  pass  him,  but  kept  close  in  their  rear  until  the  21st.  The  duke  of  Me- 
dina Sidonir-  (the  Spanish  admiral)  expected  to  have  been  here  joined  by 
the  dnke  of  Parma  and  the  land  forces  under  his  command,  but  the  latter 
had  found  it  impracticable  to  put  to  sea  without  encountering  the  fleet  ol 
Lord  Seymour,  by  which  he  justly  feared  that  both  his  ships  and  men 
would  be  put  in  the  utmost  jeopardy. 

For  four  days  a  kind  of  brisk  running  fight  was  kept  up,  in  which  the 
English  had  a  decided  advantage ;  and  the  alarm  having  now  spread  from 
one  end  of  the  coast  to  the  other,  the  nobility  and  gentry  hastened  out 
with  their  vessels  from  every  harbour,  and  reinforced  the  English  fleet, 
which  soon  amounted  to  140  sail.  The  earls  of  Oxford,  Northumberland, 
and  Cumberland,  Sir  Thomas  Cecil,  Sir  Robert  Cecil,  Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 


'^  \t  ^ 


■> 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


11.25 


■tt  Kii    12.2 

US 

u 


■  4.0 


UUU 

M 

U   1 1.6 


V] 


/. 


^'J^ 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14SS0 

(716)  872-4S03 


0 


540 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTOftY. 


Sir  Thomas  Vavasor,  Sir  Thomas  Gerrard,  Sir  Charles  Blount,  and  many 
others  distinguished  themselves  by  this  generous  and  seasonable  proof  of 
their  loyalty.  On  the  24th  the  lord  admiral  divided  the  fleet  into  fuur 
squadrons,  the  better  to  pursue  and  annoy  the  enemy;  the  first  squadron 
he  himself  commanded  ;  the  second  he  assigned  to  Sir  Francis  Drake ; 
the  third  to  Sir  John  Hawkins ;  and  the  fourth  to  Sir  Martin  Frobisher. 
The  result  of  this  was,  that  in  the  three  succeeding  days  the  armada  had 
become  so  shattered  by  the  repeated  skirmishes  in  which  it  had  been  en- 
gaged,  that  it  was  compelled  to  take  shelter  in  the  roads  of  Calais. 

The  English  admiral  having  been  informed  that  10,000  men  belonging 
to  the  duke  of  Parma's  army  had  marched  towards  Dunkirk,  and  appre- 
hending serious  consequences  from  the  enemy's  receiving  such  a  rein- 
forcement, determined  to  spend  no  more  time  in  making  desultory  attacks 
on  the  huge  galleons  with  his  comparatively  smail  vessels.  Accordingly, 
in  the  night  of  the  28th  of  July,  he  sent  in  among  them  eight  or  ten  fire- 
ships  ;  and  such  was  the  terror  of  the  Spanish  sailors,  that  they  cut  their 
cables,  hoisted  sail,  and  put  to  sea  with  the  utmost  hurry  and  confusiun. 
In  their  anxiety  to  escape,  victory  was  no  longer  thought  of.  The  duke 
of  Medina  Sidonia,  dreading  again  to  encounter  the  English  fleet,  attempt. 
ed  to  return  home  by  sailing  round  the  north  of  Scotland ;  but  the  elements 
were  now  as  fatal  to  the  Spanish  fleet  as  the  skill  and  bravery  of  the 
English  sailors.  Many  of  the  ships  were  driven  on  the  shores  of  Norway, 
Ireland,  and  the  north  of  Scotland ;  and  out  of  that  vast  armament  which, 
from  its  magnitude  and  apparent  completeness,  had  been  styled  invincible, 
only  a  few  disabled  vessels  returned  to  tell  the  tale  of  its  disastrous  issue. 
In  the  several  engagements  with  the  English  fleet  in  the  channel,  in  July 
and  August,  the  Spaniards  lost  flfteen  great  ships  and  4,791  men;  seven- 
teen ships,  and  5,394  men  (killed,  taken,  and  drowned)  upon  the  coast  of 
Ireland,  in  September;  and  another  large  ship,  with  700  men,  cast  away 
on  the  coast  of  Scotland.  But  this  enumeration  by  no  means  included 
their  total  loss.  On  the  part  of  the  English  the  loss  was  i^o  trifling  a» 
scarcely  to  deserve  mention. 

The  destruction  of  the  Spanish  armada  inspired  th"  nation  with  feeling? 
of  intense  delight ;  the  people  were  proud  of  their  country's  naval  superi 
ority,  proud  of  their  own  martial  appearance,  and  proud  o(  iheir  queen 
A  medal  was  struck  on  the  occasion  with  this  inscription  "  Venit,  vidil, 
fugtC — It  came,  saw,  and  fled  :"  another,  with  fire-ships  au J  a  fleet  in  con- 
fusion, with  this  motto,  '^Dux  fmmina  facti'^ — "  A  woman  conducted  the 
enierprise."  But  on  the  fatal  news  being  conveyed  to  Philip,  he  ex- 
claimed, in  real  or  affected  resignation,  "  I  sent  my  fleet  to  combat  the 
English,  not  the  elements.     God  be  praised,  the  calamity  is  not  greater." 

If  the  destruction  of  the  Spanish  armada  had  saved  England  from  tiie 
domination  of  a  foreign  power,  whose  resentment  for  past  indignities  was 
not  likely  to  be  easily  appeased,  it  was  no  less  a  triumph  for  the  protestant 
cause  throughout  Europe  ;  the  Huguenots  in  France  were  encouraged  by 
it,  and  it  virtually  established  the  independence  of  the  Dutch ;  while  the 
excessive  influence  which  Spain  had  acquired  over  other  nations  was  not 
only  lost  by  this  event,  but  it  paralyzed  the  energies  of  the  Spanish  people 
and  left  them  in  a  state  of  utter  hopelessness  as  to  the  future.  4  da) 
of  public  thanksgiving  having  been  appointed  for  this  great  deliverance, 
the  queen  went  in  state  to  St.  Paul's  in  a  grand  triumphal  car,  decorated 
with  flags  and  other  trophies  taken  from  the  Spaniards. 

The  public  rejoicings  for  the  defeat  of  the  armada  were  scarcely  over 
when  an  event  occurred,  which,  in  whatever  light  it  might  be  felt  by  Eiiza> 
beth  herself,  certainly  cast  no  damp  on  the  spirits  of  the  nation  at  large; 
we  mean  the  death  of  Leicester.  The  powerful  faction  of  which  the  fa- 
vourite had  been  the  head  acknowledged  a  new  leader  in  the  earl  ■  f  Essex, 
whom  his  step-father  had  brought  forward  at  court  as  a  counterpoise  '" 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY 


«41 


(tie  influence  of  Raleigh,  and  who  now  stood  second  to  none  in  hor  majes- 
IV  'm  good  graces.  But  EsseX;  however  gifted  with  noble  and  brilhant 
HUaiities,  was  confessedly  inferior  to  Leicester  in  several  eiidowmtnta 
highly  essential  to  the  leader  of  a  court  party.  Though  not  void  of  art, 
he  was  by  no  means  master  of  the  dissimulation,  address,  and  wary  cool- 
ness by  which  his  predecessor  well  knew  how  to  accomplish  his  ends. 
The  character  of  Essex  was  frank  and  impetuous,  and  experience  had  not 
yet  taught  him  to  distrust  either  himself  or  olher.s. 

A.  D.  1589. — After  the  defeat  of  the  armada,  a  thirst  for  military  achiev- 
ments  against  the  Spaniards  pervaded  the  mind  of  the  English  public.  The 
queen  encouraged  this  spirit,  but  declared  lier  treasury  was  too  poor  to 
sustain  the  expenses  of  a  war.  An  association  was  soon  formed  by  the 
people,  and  an  army  of  21,000  men,  under  the  command  of  Norris  and 
Drake,  sailed  from  Plymouth  to  avenge  the  insult  offered  to  England  by 
Philip  of  Spain.  The  young  earl  of  Essex,  without  consulting  ilie  pleasure 
of  his  sovereign,  made  a  private  journey  to  Plymouth,  and  joined  the  ex- 
pedition. No  sooner  was  the  queen  made  acquainted  with  his  absence, 
than  she  dispatched  the  lord  Huntingdon  to  bring  the  fugitive  to  her  feet ; 
but  he  had  already  sailed. 

It  was  the  queen's  order  that  the  armament  should  first  proceed  to  Por- 
tugal, and  endeavour  to  join  the  army  of  Don  Antonio,  who  contendo'l 
with  Philip  for  the  possession  of  the  throne  of  Portugal ;  but  Drake  won  1 
not  be  restrained  by  instructions,  and  he  proceeded  to  Corunna,  where  le 
lost  a  number  of  men,  without  obtaining  the  slightest  advantage.  In  Por- 
tugal they  were  scarcely  more  successful ;  but  at  their  return  their  los 
were  concealed,  their  advantages  magnified,  and  the  public  were  satisfied 
hat  the  pride  of  Spain  had  been  humbled. 

Elizabeth  might  probably  have  expected  that  the  death  of  the  queen  of 
Scois  would  put  an  end  to  conspiracies  against  her  life  ;  but  plots  were 
still  as  rife  as  ever;  nor  can  we  feel  surprise  that  it  should  be  so,  consid- 
ering that  Elizabeth,  as  well  as  Philip  of  Spain,  employed  a  great  number 
of  spies,  who,  being  men  of  ruined  fortunes  and  bad  principles,  betrayed 
the  secrets  of  either  party  as  their  own  interests  led  them  ;  and  sometimes 
were  the  fabricators  of  alarming  reports  to  enhance  the  value  of  their  ser 
vices. 

England  and  France  were  now  in  alliance,  and  the  French  king  called 
for  English  aid  in  an  attack  upon  Spain,  but  the  queen  had  begun  to  re 
pent  of  the  sums  she  had  already  advanced  to  Henry,  and  demanded  Ca- 
lais as  a  security  for  her  future  assistance;  for  the  preparations  on  the 
peninsula  alarmed  her  majesty  lest  Philip  should  make  a  second  attempt 
to  invade  England.  At  length  the  English  council  adopted  a  measure, 
proposed  by  the  lord  admiral,  Howard  of  Effingham,  to  send  out  an  expe- 
dition that  should  anticipate  the  design  of  the  enemy,  and  destroy  his  ports 
and  shipping ;  Essex  had  the  command  of  the  land  forces,  and  Howard 
that  of  the  navy.  When  the  English  troops  entered  Cadiz,  the  counciil  of 
war  was  divided  in  opinion  as  to  the  fitness  of  that  step,  which  ended  in 
the  possession  of  the  city  and  fleet,  from  which  the  troops  returne'i  with 
glory  for  their  bravery,  and  with  honour  for  their  humanity,  as  no  blood 
had  been  wantonly  spilt,  nor  any  dishonourable  act  committed.  Though 
Essex  had  been  the  leading  conquerer  at  Cadiz,  the  victory  was  reported 
as  chiefly  attributable  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and  to  have  been  in  itself  a 
u'heap  and  easy  conquest. 

A.  D.  1591. — The  maritime  war  with  Spain,  notwithstanding  the  cau- 
tious tentper  of  the  queen,  was  strenuously  waged  at  this  time,  and  pro- 
duced some  striking  indications  of  the  rising  spirit  of  the  English  navy. 
A  squadron,  under  Lord  Thomas  Howard,  which  had  been  waiting  six 
months  at  the  Azores  to  intercept  the  homeward-bound  ships  from  Span- 
ish America,  was  there  surprised  by  the  enemy's  fleet,  which  had  been 


M9 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTCUY. 


■/■' 
n 


sent  out  for  their  convoy.  The  English  adnniral,  who  had  a  much  smaller 
force,  put  to  sea  in  all  haste,  and  got  clear  off,  with  the  exception  of  one 
ship,  the  Revenge,  the  captain  of  which  had  the  temerity  to  confront  the 
whole  Spanish  fleet  of  fifty-six  sail  rather  than  strike  his  colours.  It  wag, 
However,  a  piece  of  bravery  as  needless  as  it  was  desperate ;  for  after  his 
crew  had  displayed  prodigies  of  valour,  and  beaten  off  fifteen  boarding 
parties,  his  ammunition  being  gone  and  the  whole  of  his  men  killed  or 
disabled,  the  gallant  commander  was  compelled  to  strike  his  flag,  and 
soon  afterdied  of  his  wounds  on  board  the  Spanish  admiral's  ship. 

A.  D.  1593. — In  those  days,  when  an  English  sovereign  required  money, 
and  then  only,  the  services  of  a  parliament  were  called  for ;  and  Kliza' 
beth  was  now  under  the  necessity  of  summoning  one.  But  she  could  ill 
brook  any  opposition  to  her  will ;  and  fearing  that  the  present  state  of 
her  flnanc^es  might  embolden  some  of  the  members  to  treat  her  mandates 
with  less  deference  than  formerly,  she  was  induced  to  assume  a  more 
haughty  and  menacing  style  than  was  habitual  to  her.  In  answer  to  the 
three  customary  requests  made  by  the  speaker,  for  liberty  of  speech,  free- 
dom from  arrests,  and  access  to  her  person,  she  replied  by  her  lord  keep- 
er,  that  such  liberty  of  speech  as  the  commons  were  justly  called  to— lib- 
erty, namely,  of  aye  and  no,  she  was  willing  to  grant,  but  by  no  means  a 
liberty  for  every  one  to  speak  what  he  listed.  And  if  any  idle  heads 
should  be  found  careless  enough  of  their  own  safety  to  attempt  innova- 
tions in  the  state,  or  reforms  in  the  church,  she  laid  her  injunctions  on  the 
speaker  to  refuse  the  bills  offered  for  such  purposes  till  they  should  have 
been  examined  by  those  who  were  better  qualified  to  judge  of  these  mat- 
ters.  But  language,  however  imperious  or  scornful,  was  insulTicient  to 
restrain  some  attempts  on  the  part  of  the  commons  to  exercise  their 
known  rights  and  fulfil  their  duty  to  the  country.  Peter  Weiitworlh,  a 
member  whose  courageous  and  independent  spirit  had  already  drawn  upon 
him  repeated  manifestations  of  the  royal  displeasure,  presented  to  the 
lord  keeper  a  petition,  praying  that  the  upper  house  would  join  with  the 
lower  in  a  supplication  to  the  queen  for  fixing  the  succession.  Elizabeth, 
enraged  at  the  bare  mention  of  a  subject  so  offensive  to  her,  instantly 
committed  Wentworth,  Sir  Thomas  Bromley,  who  seconded  him,  and 
two  other  members,  to  the  Fleet  prison ;  and  such  was  the  general  dread 
of  offended  majesty,  that  the  house  was  afraid  to  petition  for  their  release. 

A.  D.  1596. — Kssex,  whose  vanity  was  on  a  par  with  his  impetuosity,  had 
now  attained  the  zenith  of  his  prosperity  ;  but,  confide "^  in  the  affections 
of  Elizabeth,  he  frequently  suffered  himself  to  forgel         i  subject's  duti- 


ful respect  was  due  to  her  as  his  queen.     On  one  m' 


jle  occasion,  it 


is  related,  that  he  treated  her  with  indignity  uncalled  icr  and  wholly  in 
defensible ;  a  dispute  had  arisen  between  them  in  tlie  presence  of  the  lord 
high  admiral,  the  secretary,  and  the  clerk  of  the  signet,  respecting  the 
choice  of  a  commander  for  Ireland,  where  Tyrone  at  that  time  gave  the 
English  much  trouble.  The  queen  h  .d  resolved  to  send  Sir  William 
Knolles,  the  uncle  of  Essex  ;  while  tlie  earl  with  unbecoming  warmth 
urged  the  propriety  of  sending  Sir  George  Carew,  whose  presence  at 
court,  it  appears,  was  displeasing  to  him,  and,  therefore,  with  c«urtier-like 
sincerity,  he  thus  sought  to  remove  him  out  of  the  way.  Unable,  either 
by  argument  or  persuasion,  to  prevail  over  the  resolute  will  of  her  ma- 
jesty, the  favourite  at  last  forgot  himself  so  far  as  to  turn  his  back 
upon  her  with  a  laugh  of  contempt ;  an  indignity  which  she  revenged  in 
the  true  "  Elizabethan  style,"  by  boxing  his  ears,  and  bidding  him  "Go  to 
the  devil,"  or  "  Go  and  be  hanged  !" — for  our  chroniclers  differ  as  to  the 
exact  phrase,  though  all  agree  that  she  suited  the  word  to  the  action 
This  retort  so  inflamed  the  blood  of  Essex,  that  he  instantly  grasped  h.» 
sword,  and  while  the  lord  admiral  interposed  to  prevent  a  further  ebulh- 
tioa  of  passion,  the  earl  swore  that  not  from  her  father  would  he  have 


THB  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


M 


taken  such  an  insult,  and,  foaming  with  rage,  he  rushed  out  of  the  palace 
For  a  time  tJ^is  affair  furnished  ample  scope  for  idle  gossip  and  conjec- 
tiirn;  the  friends  of  Kssex  urged  him  to  lose  no  time  in  returning  to  his 
attendance  at  court  and  soliciting  her  majesty's  forgiveness.  This,  how 
ever,  he  could  not  he  prevailed  on  to  do ;  but,  like  many  other  quarrels 
among  individuals  of  an  humbler  grade,  it  was  at  length  patched  up,  and 
the  reconciliation  appeared  to  the  superficial  observer  us  perfect,  as  it  was, 
in  ail  probability,  hollow  and  insincere. 

Essex  had  long  thirsted  for  military  distinction,  and  had  often  vehe- 
mently argued  with  Burleigh  on  the  propriety  of  keeping  up  a  perpetua 
hostility  against  the  power  of  Philip;  but  the  prudent  and  experienced 
minister  contended  that  Spain  was  now  sufficiently  humbled  to  render  an 
accommodation  both  safe  and  honourable ;  and  his  prudential  counsel  was 
adhered  to  by  the  queen.  Economy  in  the  public  expenditure  was,  in  fact, 
necessary ;  and  one  of  the  last  acts  of  Burleigh's  life  was  the  completion 
of  an  arrangement  with  the  states  of  Holland  for  the  repayment  of  the 
Bums  which  Elizabeth  had  advanced  to  them,  whereby  the  nation  was 
relieved  of  a  considerable  portion  of  its  former  annual  expense. 

After  exercising  very  considerable  influence  in  the  administration  of 
affairs  in  England  for  forty  years,  the  faithful  Burleigh,  whose  devotion  to 
the  queen  and  attachment  to  the  reformed  faith  were  constant  and  sincere, 
died  in  the  78th  year  of  his  age;  and  in  about  a  month  after,  his  great  op- 
ponent, Philip  II.,  also  bowed  to  death's  stern  decree.  Under  his  succes- 
sor the  Spanish  monarchy  declined  with  accelerated  steps ;  all  apprehen- 
sions of  an  invasion  ceased,  and  the  queen's  advisers  had  an  opportunity 
of  turning  their  whole  attention  to  the  pacification  of  Ireland. 

A.  D.  1598.— The  Irish  rebel,  Tyrone,  had  successfully  resisted  the  En- 
glish forces  in  several  encounters ;  and  at  length  the  whole  province  of 
Munster  declared  for  him.  It  was  evident  that  much  time  had  been  spent 
on  minor  objects,  while  the  great  leader  of  the  rebels  was  in  a  manner  left 
to  overrun  the  island  and  subjugate  it  to  his  will.  This  subject  was  ear- 
nestly canvassed  by  Elizabeth  and  her  council ;  by  the  majority  of  whom 
Lord  Mountjoy  was  considered  as  a  person  fully  equal  to  the  office  ol 
lord-deputy  at  so  critical  a  juncture.  Essex,  however,  ofTered  so  many 
objections  to  his  appointment,  irguing  the  point  with  so  much  warmth 
and  obstinacy,  and  withal  intimating  his  own  superior  fitness  for  the 
office  with  so  much  art  and  address,  that  the  queen,  notwithstanding  cer- 
tain suspicions  which  had  been  infused  into  her  mind  respecting  the  pro- 
b;ible  danger  of  committing  to  Essex  the  chief  command  of  an  army,  and 
notwithstanding  her  presumed  unwillingness  to  deprive  herself  of  his  pre- 
sence, appears  to  have  adopted  his  suggestion  with  an  unusual  degree  of 
earnest  haste.  The  earl  of  Essex  v/as  accordingly  made  lord-lieutenant 
of  Ireland,  and  with  20,000  choice  troops  he  went  forward  on  his  long- 
desired  mission. 

A.  D.  1599. — Having  landed  at  Dublin  in  the  spring,  Essex  immediately 
appointed.his  friend,  the  earl  of  Southampton,  to  the  office  of  general  of 
the  horse:  but  instead  of  opening  the  campaign,  as  was  expected  by  his 
friends  in  England,  with  some  hold  and  decisive  operation  against  Ty- 
rone, the  summer  was  spent  in  temporising,  and  before  the  close  of  the 
year  a  suspicious  truce  between  the  parties  put  pn  end  to  all  his  anticipa- 
tions  of  success.  Nay,  so  unexpected  was  the  issue  of  this  expedition, 
that  it  afforded  the  best  possible  opportunity  to  his  enemies  to  shake  the 
queen's  confidence  even  in  his  loyalty.  An  angry  letter  from  her  majesty 
was  the  immediate  consequence;  and  Essex,  without  waiting  for  the 
royal  permission,  hurried  over  to  England  in  order  to  throw  himself  at 
the  feet  of  his  exasperated  sovereijrn.  The  sudden  appearance  of  her  fa- 
vourite, just  after  she  had  risen  from  her  bed,  imploring  her  forgiveness 
on  his  knees,  disarmed  the  queen  of  her  anger ;  and  on  leaving  the  aoart 


544 


THE  TRKA8UEY  OP  HISTORY. 


ment,  he  exclaimed  exultingly,  "  that  though  he  had  encountered  much 
trouble  and  many  storms  abroad,  he  thanked  God  he  found  a  perfect  calm 
at  home." 

The  earl  of  Essex  doubtless  thought  the  troubled  waters  were  at  rest; 
his  vanity  favoured  the  notion,  and  self-gratulalion  followed  as  a  mattei 
of  course  ;  but  he  soon  found  that  the  tempest  was  only  hushed  for  the 
moment,  for  at  night  he  found  himself  a  prisoner  in  his  own  house  by  the 
peremptory  orders  of  Elizabeth.  Heart-iick  and  confounded,  a  severe 
illness  was  the  quick  result  of  this  proceedii.g;  and  for  a  brief  interval  the 

Jiueen  not  only  showed  some  signs  of  pity,  L<ut  administered  to  his  com. 
ort.  A  warrant  was,  however,  soon  afterwards  made  out  for  his  com- 
mittal  to  the  Tower,  and  though  it  was  not  i'.arried  into  effect,  yet  his 
;hance  of  liberty  seemed  too  remote  for  prudence  to  calculate  on.  But  the 
fiery  temper  of  Essex  had  no  alloy  of  prudence  in  it :  he  gave  way  to  his 
natural  violence,  spoke  of  the  queen  in  peevish  and  disrespectful  terms 
and,  among  other  things,  said,  "  she  was  grown  an  old  woman,  and  wail 
become  as  crooked  in  her  mind  as  in  her  body." 

A.  D.  1600. — Shortly  after  his  disgrace,  Essex  wrote  to  James  of  Scot- 
land, informing  him  that  the  faction  who  ruled  the  court  were  in  league 
to  deprive  him  of  his  right  to  the  throne  of  England,  in  favour  of  the  infanta 
of  Spain ;  and  he  oflFered  his  services  to  extort  from  Elizabeth  an  acknowl- 
edgment  of  his  claims.  It  appears,  indeed,  from  concurrent  testimony, 
that  the  conduct  of  Essex  had  now  become  highly  traitorous,  and  that  he 
was  secretly  collecting  together  a  party  to  aid  him  in  some  enterprise  dan- 
gerous  to  the  ruling  power.  But  his  plans  were  frustrated  by  the  activity 
of  ministers,  who  had  received  information  that  the  grand  object  of  the 
conspirators  was  to  seize  the  queen's  person  and  take  possession  of  the 
Tower.  A  council  was  called,  and  Essex  was  commanded  to  attend;  but 
he  refused,  assembled  his  friends,  and  fortified  Essex-house,  in  which  he 
had  previously  secreted  hired  soldiers.  Four  of  the  privy  council  being 
sent  thither  to  inquire  into  the  reason  of  his  conduct,  he  imprisoned  them 
and  sallied  out  into  the  city ;  but  he  failed  in  his  attempt  to  excite  the  peo. 
pie  in  his  favour,  and  on  returning  to  his  house,  he  and  his  friend  the  earl 
of  Southampton  were  with  some  difliculty  made  prisoners,  and  after  having 
been  first  taken  to  Lambeth  palace,  were  committed  to  the  Tower. 

A.  D.  1601. — The  rash  and  aspiring  Essex  now  only  begged  that  he  might 
have  a  fair  trial,  still  calculating  upon  the  influence  of  the  queen  to  protect 
him  in  the  hour  of  his  utmost  need.  Proceedings  were  commenced  against 
him  instantly  ;  his  errors  during  his  administration  in  Ireland  were  repre- 
sented in  the  most  odious  colours ;  the  undutiful  expressions  he  had  used 
in  some  of  his  letters  were  greatly  exaggerated ;  and  his  recent  treasonable 
attempt  was  dwelt  on  as  calling  for  the  exercise  of  the  utmost  severity  of 
the  law.  His  condemnation  followed ;  judgment  was  pronounced  against 
him,  and  against  his  friend,  the  earl  of  Southampton.  This  nobleman  was, 
however,  spared  ;  but  Essex  was  conducted  to  the  fatal  block,  where  he 
met  his  death  with  great  fortitude,  being  at  the  time  only  in  the  thirty 
fourth  year  of  his  age.  His  most  active  accomplices  were  Ciilf,  his  sec- 
retary, Merrick,  his  steward.  Sir  Christopher  Blount,  his  father-in-law,  and 
Sir  Robert  Davers,  who  were  executed  some  few  days  after. 

The  parliamentary  proceedings  of  this  year  were  more  elaborate  than 
before,  particularly  as  regarded  the  financial  state  of  the  country.  It  was 
stated  that  the  whole  of  the  last  subsidies  amounted  to  no  more  than 
160,000/.,  while  the  expense  oi  tlie  Irish  war  alone  was  300,000/.  On  this 
occasion  it  was  observed  by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  that  the  estates  of  the  no- 
bility and  gentry,  which  were  charged  at  thirty  or  forty  pounds  in  tiie 
queen's  books,  were  not  charged  at  a  hundredth  part  of  their  real  value. 
He  also  moved,  thjwf  as  scarcely  any  justices  of  the  peace  were  rated  above 
eight  or  ten  pounds  a  year,  they  might  be  advanced  to  twenty  pounds  at 


THE  TREASURE  OF  HISTORY. 


64A 


l^ast,  which  wns  the  qualification  required  by  the  btatute  fnr  a  justiop  of 
peace ;  but  the  commons  declined  to  alter  the  rate  of  taxation  and  leave 
themselves  liable  to  bo  taxed  at  the  rack-rent.  Monopolies  upon  various 
brandies  o''  trade  were  next  brought  under  consideration ;  and  as  they 
wore  generally  oppressive  and  unjust  (some  obtained  by  purchase  and 
others  piven  to  favourites),  many  animated  discussions  followed,  which 
ended  in  a  motion  that  the  monopolies  should  be  revoked,  and  the  pa- 
tentees [Hinished  for  their  extortions.  Of  course  there  wore  members 
present  who  were  venal  enough  to  defend  this  iniquitous  mode  of  en- 
riching certain  individuals  at  the  expense  of  the  public.  A  long  list  of  the 
monopolizing  patents  being,  however,  read — among  which  was  <me  on 
suit,  an  article  that  had  thus  been  raised  from  fourteen  pence  to  fourteen 
siiillings  a  bushel— a  member  indignantly  demanded  whether  there  was 
not  a  patent  also  for  making  bread ;  at  which  question  some  courtiers  ex- 
pressing liicir  resentment,  he  replied  that  if  bread  were  not  already  among 
the  patented  luxuries,  it  would  soon  become  one  unless  a  stop  w:is  put  to 
such  enormities.  That  the  arguments  of  the  speakers  were  not  lost  upoi. 
the  queen  seems  certain ;  for  although  she  took  no  notice  of  the  debates, 
she  sent  a  message  to  th«j  house,  acquainting  them  that  several  petitions 
had  been  presented  to  her  against  monopolies,  and  declared  "  she  was  sen- 
sibly touched  with  the  people's  grievances,  expressing  the  utmost  indig- 
nation against  those  who  had  abused  her  grants,  and  appealed  to  God  how 
careful  shf  had  ever  been  to  defend  them  against  oppression,  and  prom- 
ised they  should  be  revoked."  Secretary  Cecil  added  "her  majesty  was 
not  apprised  of  the  ill  tendency  of  these  grants  when  she  made  tiiem,  and 
hoped  thore  would  never  be  any  more ;"  to  which  gracious  declaration 
the  majority  of  the  house  responded,  "Amen." 

In  this  memorable  rossion  was  passed  the  celebrated  act,  to  which  al- 
lusion is  so  often  made  in  the  present  day,  for  the  relief  and  employment 
of  the  poor.  Since  the  breaking  up  of  the  religious  establishments,  the 
country  had  been  overrun  with  idle  mendicants  and  thieves.  It  was  a 
natural  consequence  that  those  who  sought  in  vain  for  work,  and  as  vainly 
implored  charitable  aid,  should  be  induced  by  the  cravings  of  hunger  to  lay 
violent  hands  upon  the  property  of  others.  As  the  distress  of  the  lower 
orders  increased,  so  did  crime ;  till  at  length  the  wide-spreading  evil  forced 
itself  on  the  attention  of  parliament,  and  provision  was  made  for  the  bet- 
tering of  their  condition,  by  levying  a  tax  upon  the  middle  and  upper  clas- 
ses for  the  support  of  the  aged  and  infirm  poor,  and  for  affording  tempo- 
rary relief  to  the  destitute,  according  to  their  several  necessitieSi  under 
the  direction  of  parochial  officers. 

We  must  now  briefly  revert  to  what  was  going  on  in  Ireland.  Though 
the  power  of  the  Spaniards  was  considered  as  at  too  low  an  ebb  to  give 
the  English  government  any  great  uneasiness  for  the  safety  of  its  posses 
sions,  it  was  thought  sufficiently  formidable  to  be  the  means  of  annoyance 
as  regarded  the  assistance  it  might  afford  Tyrone,  who  was  still  at  the 
head  of  the  insurgents  in  Ireland.  And  the  occurrence  we  are  about  to 
Biention  shows  that  a  reasonable  apprehension  on  that  head  might  well 
be  entertained.  On  the  23rd  of  September  the  Spaniards  landed  4000  men 
near  Kinsale,  and  having  taken  possession  of  the  town,  were  speedily 
followed  by  2000  more.  They  effected  a  junction  with  Tyrone;  but 
Mountjoy,  who  was  now  lord-deputy,  surprised  their  army  in  the  night, 
and  entirely  defeated  them.  This  led  to  the  surrender  of  Kinsale  and  all 
other  places  in  their  possession ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  Tyrone,  as  a 
captive,  graced  the  triumphal  return  of  Mountjoy  to  Dublin. 

A.  D.  1602. — The  most  remarkable  among  the  domestic  occurrences  of 

this  year  was  a  violent  quarrel  between  the  Jesuits  and  the  secular  priests 

of  England.    The  latter  accused  the  former,  and  not  without  reason,  of 

having  bei'ii  the  occasion,  by  their  assassinations,  plots,  and  conspiracies 

Vol.  1 — 35 


.•)46 


TftiC  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


ii^ainst  the  qunen  and  government,  of  all  the  severe  enactments  unuer 
which  the  Knglish  cathulius  hud  groaned  since  the  fuimination  of  the  papal 
hull  against  her  majesty.  In  the  height  or  this  dispute,  intelligence  was 
conveyed  to  the  privy  council  of  som.s  fresh  plots  on  the  part  of  the  jeauita 
and  their  adherents  ;  on  which  a  proclamation  was  immediately  issued, 
banishing  this  order  from  the  kingdom  on  pain  of  death ;  and  the  same 
penally  was  declared  against  all  secular  priests  who  should  refuse  to  take 
the  oath  of  allegiance. 

That  Queen  Elizabeth  deeply  regretted  the  precipitancy  with  which  she 
signed  the  warrant  for  the  execution  of  her  favourite  Kssex  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe.  She  soon  became  a  victim  to  hypochondria,  as  may 
be  seen  from  a  letter  written  by  her  godson,  Sir  John  Harrington ;  and  as 
it  exhibits  a  curious  example  of  her  behaviour,  and  may  be  regitided  as  a 
specimen  of  the  epistolary  style  of  the  age,  we  are  induced  to  quote  somu 
of  the  sentences:  "She  is  much  disfavoured  and  unattired,  and  thesu 
troubles  waste  her  much.  She  disregardcth  everie  costlie  cover  that 
cometh  to  her  table,  and  taketh  little  but  manr;het  and  auccory  pottage. 
Every  new  message  from  the  city  doth  disturb  her,  and  she  frowns  on  all 
the  ladies."  He  farther  on  remarks,  that  "The  many  evil  plots  and  de. 
signs  hath  overcome  her  highness'  sweet  temper.  She  walks  much  in 
her  privy  chamber,  and  stamps  much  at  ill  news ;  and  thrusts  her  rusty 
sword,  at  times,  into  the  arras  in  great  rage."  And  in  his  postscript  he 
4ays,  "So  disordered  is  all  order,  that  her  highness  has  worn  but  one 
change  of  raiment  for  many  daies,  and  swears  much  at  those  who  cause 
her  griefs  in  such  wise,  to  the  no  small  discomfiture  of  those  that  are  about 
her;  more  especially  our  sweet  Lady  Arundel."  Her  days  and  niglits 
were  spent  in  tears,  and  she  never  spoke  but  to  mention  some  irritating 
subjects.  Nay,  it  is  recorded,  that  having  experienced  some  hours  of 
alarming  stupor,  she  persisted,  after  her  recovery  from  it,  to  remain  seated 
on  cushions,  from  which  she  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  remove  dur- 
ing ten  days,  but  sat  with  her  finger  generally  on  her  mouth,  and  her  eyes 
open  and  fixed  upon  the  ground,  for  she  apprehended  that  if  she  lay  down 
in  bed  she  should  not  rise  from  it  again.  Having  at  length  been  out  into 
bed,  she  lay  on  her  side  motionless,  and  apparently  insensible.  The  lords 
of  the  council  being  summoned,  Nottingham  reminded  her  of  a  former 
speech  respecting  her  successor;  she  answered,  "I  told  you  my  seat  had 
been  the  seat  of  kings,  and  I  will  have  no  ras(;al  to  succeed  me.  Who 
should  succeed  me  but  a  king  !"  Cecil,  wishing  a  more  explicit  declara- 
tion, requesting  her  to  explain  what  she  meant  by  "  no  rascal,"  she  replied 
that  "a  king  should  succeed,  and  who  could  that  be  but  her  cousin  of  Scot 
landl"  Early  the  following  morning  the  queen  tranquilly  breathed  her 
last ;  she  was  in  the  70th  year  of  her  age  and  the  45th  of  her  reign. 

Elizabeth  was  tall  and  portly,  but  never  handsome,  though  from  the  ful- 
some  compliments  whicii  she  tolerated  in  those  who  had  access  to  her 
person,  she  appears  to  have  entertained  no  mean  opinion  of  her  beauty. 
Her  extravagant  love  of  finery  was  well  known,  and  the  presents  of  jew. 
elry,  &c.,  she  received  from  such  of  her  loving  subjects  as  hoped  to  gain 
the  royal  favour  were  both  numerous  and  costly.  Like  her  father,  sha 
was  irritable  and  passionate,  often  venting  her  rage  in  blows  and  oaths 
Her  literary  acquirements  were  very  considerable ;  and  in  those  accom 
plishments  which  are  in  our  own  day  termed  "  fashionable,"  namely,  mu- 
sic, singing,  and  dancing,  she  also  greatly  excelled.  The  charges  which 
have  been  made  against  the  "virgin  queen"  for  indulging  in  amatory  in- 
trigues are  not  sufficiently  sustained  to  render  it  the  duty  of  an  historiai; 
to  repeat  them;  and  when  it  is  considered  that  though  she  possessed  a 
host  of  sturdy  friends,  yet  that  she  had  many  bitter  enemies,  we  need  not 
be  surprised  that  in  the  most  vulnerable  point  her  character  as  a  female 
has  often  been  unjustly  assailed. 


THE  TaBABURY  OF  HISTOHY. 


•«T 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

THE     RKIOIt     or    JAMES    I. 

,.  D.  1603. — The  advanced  age  to  which  the  late  queen  lived,  and  the 
(  .nstaikt  attention  which  her  remaining  unmarried  had  caused  men  ta  pay 
lo  the  subject  of  the  succession,  had  made  the  succession  of  James  be- 
come a  thing  as  fully  settled  in  public  opinion  us  though  it  had  been  set- 
tied  by  her  will  or  an  act  of  parliaiTient.  AH  the  arguments  for  and  against 
him  had  been  canvassed  and  dismissed,  and  he  ascended  the  throne  of 
Fi^gland  with  as  little  opposition  as  though  he  had  been  Elizabetirs  eldest 

son. 

As  the  king  journeyed  from  Edinburgh  to  London  all  ranks  of  mm  hail- 
ed him  with  the  thronging  and  applause  which  had  been  wont  to  st^em  so 
grateful  to  his  predecessor.  But  if  James  liked  flattery,  he  detested 
nuise  and  bustle  ;  and  a  proclamation  was  issued  forbidding  so  much  con- 
gregating of  the  lieges,  on  the  ground  that  it  tended  to  make  provisions 
Bcarco  and  exorbitantly  dear.  It  was  only  shyness,  however,  and  not  any 
insensibility  to  the  hearty  kindness  of  his  new  subjects,  tliat  dictated  the 
king's  proclamation.  So  pleased,  indeed,  was  he  with  the  zealous  kind 
ness  shown  to  him  by  the  English,  that  he  had  not  been  two  months  be- 
fore them  when  he  had  honoured  with  the  order  of  knighthood  nearly  two 
hundred  and  forty  persons !  Peerages  were  bestowed  pretty  nearly  in  the 
same  proportion ;  and  a  good  humoured  pasquinade  was  posted  at  St. 
Paul's  promising  to  supply  weak  memories  with  the  now  very  necessary 
art  of  remembering  the  titles  of  the  new  nobility. 

It  was  not  merely  the  king's  facility  in  granting  titles  that  was  blamed, 
thi»u"'h  that  was  in  remarkable,  and,  as  regarded  his  judgment,  at  least,  in 
by  no  means  favourable  contrast  to  the  practice  of  his  predecessor ;  but 
the  English,  already  jealous  of  their  new  fellow-subjects,  the  Scots,  were 
of  opinion  that  he  was  more  than  fairly  liberal  to  the  latter.  But  if  James 
made  the  duke  of  Lenox,  the  earl  of  Mar,  Lord  Hume,  Lord  Kinross,  Sir 
George  Hume,  and  Secretary  Elphinstone,  members  of  the  English  privy 
council,  and  gave  titles  and  wealth  to  Sir  George  Hume,  Hay,  and  Ram- 
say, he  at  least  had  the  honour  and  good  sense  to  leave  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  ministerial  honours  and  political  power  in  the  hands  of  the  able  En- 
glish who  had  so  well  served  his  predecessor.  Secretary  Cecil,  especially, 
who  had  kept  up  a  secret  correspondence  with  James  towards  the  close  of 
the  late  reign,  had  now  the  chief  power,  and  was  created,  in  succession, 
Lord  Efliingdon,  Viscount  Cranborne,  and  earl  of  Salisbury. 

It  is  not  a  little  surprising  that  while  James  was  so  well  received  by  the 
n;ition  at  large,  and  had  the  instant  support  of  the  ministers  and  fri'e'ulij  of 
the  late  queen,  he  lad  scarcely  finished  renewing  treaties  of  peacv.  ...id 
friendship  with  all  tiie  great  foreign  powers,  when  a  conspiracy  was  d  3- 
covered  for  placing  his  cousin,  Arabella  Stuart,  upon  the  throne.  Such  a 
conspiracy  was  so  absurd,  and  its  success  so  completely  a  physical  impos- 
sibility, tha'  it  is  difficult  not  to  suspect  that  H  originated  in  the  king's  own 
excessive  and  unnecessary  jealousy  of  the  title  of  Arabella  Stuart,  who, 
equally  with  himself,  was  descended  from  Heniy  VIII.,  but  who  in  no 
other  respect  could  have  the  faintest  chance  of  competing  with  him.  But, 
however  it  originated,  such  a  conspiracy  existed ;  and  the  lords  Grey  and 
Cobliam,  and  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  Lord  Cobham's  brother,  Mr.  Broke,  Sir 
Griffin  Markham,  Sir  Edward  Parham,  and  Mr.  Copley,  together  with  two 
catholic  priests  named  Watson  and  Clarke,  were  apprehended  for  being 
concerned  in  it.  The  catholic  priests  were  executed,  Cobham,  Grey  and 
Markham  were  pardoned  while  their  heads  were  upon  the  block,  and 
Raleigh  was  also  reprieved,  but  not  pardoned ;  a  fact  which  was  fatal  to 
him  many  years  after,  as  will  be  perceived.    Even  at  present  it  was  mis- 


948 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


chie»ou^  to  him,  for,  though  npnred  from  death,  he  was  confined  in  the 
Tower,  where  ho  wrote  his  nohle  work,  the  Hintory  of  the  World. 

A.  D.  1G04. — \  confurencfl  was  now  called  at  Hampton  court  to  decide 
upon  certain  differences  between  the  church  and  the  puritans,  and  gen- 
erally to  arrange  that  no  injurious  religious  disputes  might  arise.  As 
James  had  a  great  turn  for  theological  disputation  he  was  hero  ouite  in 
hia  element;  but  instead  of  showing  the  puritans  all  the  favour  tney  ex- 
pected from  him  in  consequence  of  his  Scotti.sh  education,  that  very  cir- 
cumstance  induced  the  king  to  side  ogainst  them,  at  least  as  far  as  he 
prudently  could  ;  as  he  had  abundant  proof  of  the  aptness  of  puritanical 
doctrine  to  produce  seditious  politics.  He  was  importuned,  for  instance, 
by  the  puritans  to  repeal  an  act  passed  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  to  sup- 
press societies  called  prophesyings,  at  which  there  was  usually  more  zeal 
than  sense,  and  more  eloquence  than  religion.  Tlie  reply  of  James  was 
at  once  so  coarsely  practical,  and  so  indicative  of  his  general  way  of 
thinking  upon  such  points,  that  we  transcribe  it  literally.  "  If  what  you 
aim  at  is  Scottish  presbytery,  as  I  think  it  is,  I  tell  you  that  it  agrees  as 
well  with  monarchy  as  the  devil  with  God.  There  Jack,  and  Tom,  and 
Will,  and  Dick,  shall  meet  and  censure  me  and  my  council.  Therefore  I 
reiterate  my  former  speech ;  the  king  s'avisera.  Stay,  1  pray  you,  for 
seven  years  before  you  demand,  and  then,  if  I  be  grown  pursy  and  fat,  I 
may,  perchance,  hearken  to  you,  for  that  sort  of  government  would  keep 
me  in  breath  and  give  me  work  enough !" 

Passing  over  the  business  of  parliament  at  the  commencement  of  this 
reign,  as  concerning  matters  of  interest  rather  to  the  statesman  and 
scholar  than  to  the  general  reader,  we  have  now  to  advert  to  one  of  the 
most  striking  and  remarkable  events  in  our  history — the  gunpowder  plot. 

The  affection  which  the  catholics  had  ever  shown  towards  his  mo- 
ther, and  their  interpretation  of  some  obliging  expressions  that  he  had 
either  artfully  or  in  mere  carelessness  made  use  of,  had  led  them  to  hope 
that  he  would  greatly  relax,  if  not  wholly  repeal  the  severe  laws  passed 
against  them  during  the  reign  of  his  predecessor.  But  James  had  clearly 
and  unequivocally  shown  that  he  had  no  intention  of  doing  aught  that 
could  diminish  the  authority  and  security  of  the  crown;  and  the  more  en- 
thusiastic catholics  were  in  consequence  very  greatly  excited  against 
him. 

Catesby,  a  gentleman  of  good  birth  and  excellent  character,  first  looked 
upon  the  subject  as  one  demanding  the  absolute  punishment  of  the  king, 
and  he  communicated  his  feelings  to  his  friend  Piercy,  a  descendant  of 
the  time-honoured  house  of  Northumberland.  Piercy  proposed  simply  to 
assassinate  the  king,  but  in  the  course  of  their  discussion  of  the  plan 
Catesby  suggested  a  wider  and  more  elTectual  plan,  by  which  they  would 
rid  Catholicism  not  merely  of  the  king,  but  of  the  whole  protestant  strength 
of  the  kingdom.  He  pointed  out  that  the  mere  death  of  the  king,  and 
even  of  his  children,  would  be  of  little  avail  while  the  protestant  nobles 
And  gentry  could  raise  another  king  to  the  throne  who,  in  addition  to  all 
the  existing  causes  of  the  protestant  severity,  would  be  urged  to  new 
rigour  by  the  very  circumstance  to  which  he  would  owe  his  power  to  in- 
dulge it.  To  make  the  deed  effectual,  Catesby  continued,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  take  the  opportunity  of  the  first  day  of  parliament, 
when  king,  lords,  and  common?  would  be  all  assembled,  and,  by  means  ol 
a  mine  below  the  house,  blow  t;ie  whole  of  their  enemies  up  at  once  with 
gunpowder. 

Nothing  but  a  fierce  and  mistaken  fanaticism  could  allow  one  man  to 
suggest  so  dreadful  a  scheme,  or  another  man  to  approve  of  it ;  but  Piercy 
at  once  entered  into  Catesby's  plan,  and  they  took  means  for  preparing 
for  its  execution.  Thomas  Winter  was  sent  over  to  Flanders  in  search 
of  OuidD  V:>iix,  am  officer  in  the  Spanish  service,  and  well  known  alike  as 


rHC  TRRABURY  OF  IlISTORT. 


549 


t  bigoted  catholic  and  a  cool  and  darins  anldipr.  Catpaby  and  Pifrcy  in 
the  meantime,  aided  by  Desmond  and  uarnet,  Jesiiita,  and  the  latter  the 
superior  of  the;  order  in  Kngland,  were  busily  eiigiigcd  in  communicating 
their  awful  doKion  to  other  catholics  ;  and  every  newly-enlisted  confed- 
erate had  the  oath  of  secrecy  and  faithfulness  ndmini«tercd  to  him,  in  con- 
junction with  the  communion,  a  rite  peculiarly  awful  as  understood  by  the 
catholics. 

The  destruction  of  protestants  all  the  confederates  seem  to  have  con- 
sidered to  be  a  quite  unexceptionable  act ;  but  some  of  the  more  thoughtful 
and  humane  among  them  8Ugi;i!sted  the  certainty  that,  besides  several  cath- 
olic peers  who  would  attend,  there  might  be  many  other  catholics  present, 
either  as  mere  spectators  or  as  official  attendants.  Kven  this  suggestion, 
which  one  might  supnose  effectual  as  to  forbidding  the  execution  of 
Calesby's  wholesale  scheme,  was  silenced  by  the  truly  Jesuitical  remark 
of  the  two  Jesuits,  that  the  sacrifice  of  a  few  innocent  among  the  guilty 
many,  was  lawful  and  highly  meritorious,  because  it  was  required  by  the 
interests  of  religion!  Alas!  in  abusing  that  sacred  name  how  many 
crimes  have  not  mistaken  men  committed  ! 

A.  D.  1605. — Towards  the  end  of  summer  Piercy  hired  a  house  adjoining 
to  that  in  which  parliament  used  to  assemble  ;  and  having  instruments, 
arms,  and  provisions  with  them,  they  laboured  hard  in  it  for  many  hours 
each  day,  and  had  already  mined  three  feet  through  the  solid  wall  when 
they  were  stopped  and  alarmed  by  plainly  hearing  on  the  other  side  a 
noise  for  which  they  could  give  no  account.  On  inquiry  it  seemed  that 
the  noise  arose  from  the  sale  of  the  stock  of  a  coal  dealer  who  had  oc- 
cupied a  vault,  next  to  their  own,  and  immediately  below  the  house  of 
lords.  The  opportunity  was  seized  ;  Piercy  hired  the  vault,  and  six-and- 
thirty  barrels  of  gunpowder  were  clandestinely  conveyed  thither  and  con- 
cealed beneath  the  loads  of  wood,  for  the  reception  of  which  alone  Piercy 
pretened  to  need  the  place. 

Having  thus  surmounted  all  the  great  and  apparent  obstacles  to  the 
success  of  their  design,  the  conspirators  distributed  among  themselves  the 
several  parts  they  were  to  act  on  the  eventful  day.  Guido  Vaux  was  to 
fire  the  fatal  train  ;  Piercy  was  to  seize  or  slay  the  infant,  duke  of  York  ; 
and  the  princess  Elizabeth,  also  a  mere  infant,  who  would  be  a  powerless 
instrument  in  the  hands  of  the  catholics,  was  to  be  seized  and  proclaimed 
queen  by  Grant,  Rookwood,  and  Sir  Everard  Digby,  three  of  the  leading 
conspirators,  who  were  to  have  a  large  armed  party  in  readiness  on  pre- 
tence of  a  hunting  match. 

The  dreadful  scheme  had  now  been  on  foot  for  above  a  year  and  a  half, 
and  was  known  to  more  than  twenty  persons,  but  neither  fear  of  punish- 
ment, the  hope  of  reward,  or  any  of  the  motives  which  ordinarily  make 
conspirators  untrue  to  each  other,  had  caused  ajiy  one  of  the  desperate 
band  to  falter.  A  personal  feeling  of  gratitude  now  did  what  no  other 
feeling,  perhaps,  could  have  <)'>j\-:,  a'ld  caused  one  of  the  conspirators 
to  take  a  step  which  saved  the  nation  from  horrors  of  which  even  at 
this  distance  of  time  one  cannot  contemplate  the  mere  possibility  but 
with  a  shudder. 

Some  one  of  the  conspirators,  lying  under  obligations  to  Lord  Monteagle, 
a  catholic  and  a  son  of  Lord  Morley,  sent  him  the  following  letter, 
which  evidently  was  intended  to  act  upon  his  personal  prudence  and 
secure  his  safety,  without  enabling  him  in  any  wise  to  oppose  the  ruth- 
less butchery  that  was  designed : 
"  My  Lord, 

"Out  of  the  love  I  bear  to  some  of  your  friends  I  have  a  care  of 
jfour  preservation,  therefore  I  would  advise  you  as  you  tender  your 
life  to  devise  some  excuse  to  shift  off  your  attendance  upon  this  par- 
liament.   For  God  and  man  have  concurred  to  punish  the  wickedness 


I  Wf'"*  — 


MO 


TlIK  TttKAHURY  OK  HISTOttY. 


or  tlin  time.  Think  rot  lightly  of  thin  advortineiiinnt,  hut  rntirn  youi 
•elf  into  your  country,  whi^re  you  may  cxpuct  tlie  wont  in  Hiircly.  Po| 
though  there  he  no  aitpiariincis  of  any  otir,  yet,  I  say,  they  will  reci^ivt 
a  terrkhle  blow  this  puiliuinunt,  and  yet  they  ahall  nut  aeo  who  hurts  ihein. 
Thia  counsel  ia  not  to  he  fuiitfuineil,  because  it  may  do  you  good, 
and  can  do  yim  no  harm,  for  the  danger  is  past  ua  soon  as  you  burn 
this  letter.  And  I  hope  (iod  will  give  you  the  grace  to  make  guud 
uae  of  it,  unto  whose  holy  protection  I  commit  you." 

Cecil,  now  earl  of  Salisbury,  wan  the  priii(-i|)al  and  most  active  of  the 
king's  ministers,  and  to  that  nobleman  Monteagle  rorttinatelv  deteriiiiiie'i 
to  carry  the  letter,  though  ho  was  himseir  strongly  inclined  to  think  i| 
nothing  but  some  ailly  attempt  to  frighttin  him  from  his  attendant)  in 

Earliament.     S.ilisbury  proressed  to  have  the  same  opinion  of  the  letter, 
ut  laid  it  before  the  king  hoiiio  days  l)t;foro  the  meeting  of  parliament. 
Januifl,  who,  amid  many  absurdities,  was  in  the  main  a  shrewd  man, 
8UW  the  key  to  the  enigma  in  the  very  style  of  the  letter  itself:  and  LorJ 
Suflfolk,  the  lord  chamberlain,  was  charged  to  examine  the  vaults  bt!iiu!ii|| 
the  houses  of  parliament  on  the  day  before  that  appointed  fur  opening  the 
•easion.     He  did  so  in  open  day,  and,  as  if  as  a  simple  matter  of  form, 
went  through  the  cellars  and  (;ame  out  without  affecting  to  see  anytiiiii^r 
amiss.     But  he  had  been  struck  by  the  singularity  of  Piercy,  a  private 
gentleman  who  lived  but  little  in  town,  having  aniassud  suchaii  inordinate 
store  of  fuel ;  and  he  read  the  conspirator  in  the  desperate  countenimce 
of  Guido  Vaux,  who  was  Ijrking  about  the  place  in  the  garb  and  charac- 
ter of  a  servant  to  Piercy.     Acting  on  these  suspicions,  tha  ministers 
caused  a  second  search  to  be  made  at  midnight  by  a  well-armed  party 
under  Sir  Thomas  Knivet,  a  justice  of  peace.     At  the  very  door  of  the 
vault  they  seized  Vaux,  who  had  made  all  his  preparations  and  even  had 
his  tinder-box  and  matches  ready  to  fire  the  train ;  the  faggots  of  wund 
were  turned  over,  and  the  powder  found.     Vaux  was  sent  under  an  escort 
to  the  Tower,  but  was  so  far  from  seeming  appalled  by  his  dafiger,  that 
he  sneeringly  told  hi^  captors  that  if  he  had  known  a  little  earlier  that 
they  intended  to  pay  him  a  second  visit,  he  would  have  fired  the  train  and 
sweetened  his  own  death  by  killing  them  with  him.     He  behaved  in  the 
same  daring  style  when  examined  by  the  council  on  the  following  day; 
but  two  or  three  days'  reyidence  in  the  Tower  and  a  threat  of  putting  him 
on  the  nick  subdued  him,  and  he  made  a  full  discovery  of  his  confederates. 
Catesby,  Piercy,  and  their  other  friends  who  were  to  act  in  London,  heard 
not  only  of  a  letter  being  sent  to  Lord   Monteagle,  but  also  of  the  first 
search  made  in  the  vault;  yet  were  they  so  infatuated  and  so  resolute  to 
persevere  to  tlie  last,  that  it  was  only  when  Vaux  was  actually  arrested 
that  th<)y  left  London  and  hurried  down  to  Warwickshire,  where  Digby 
and  his  friends  were  already  in  arms  to  seize  the  princess  Elizabeth.    Dut 
the  sheriff  raised  the  county  in  time  to  convey  the  young  princess  to  Co- 
ventry ;  and  the  baffled  conspirators,  never  more  than  eighty  in  number, 
had  now  only  to  think  of  defending  themselves  until  tliey  could  make  their 
escape  from  the  country.     But  the  activity  of  the  sheriff  and  other  gentry 
surrounded  them  by  such  numbers  that  escape  in  any  way  was  out  of  the 
question,  and  having  confessed  themselves  to  each  other,  they  prepared 
to  die  with  a  desperate  gallantry  worthy  of  a  noblor  cause.     They  fought 
with  stern  determination,  but  some  of  their  powder  took  fire  and  disabled 
them;  Catesby  and  Piercy  were  killed  by  a  single  shot;  Digby,  Uook- 
wood,  and  Winter,  with  Garnet  the  Jesuit,  were  taken  prisoners,  and  sooa 
after  perished  by  the  hands  of  the  executioner.     It  is  a  terrible  proof  of 
of  the  power  of  superstition  to  close  men's  eyes  to  evil,  that  though  Gar- 
net's crime  was  of  the  most  ruffianly  description,  though  he  had  used  his 
priestly  influence  to  delude  his  confederates  and  tools  when  their  better 
Aature  prompted  them  to  shrink  from  such  wholesale  and  unsparing  atro- 


THE  TRRABURY  OP  iUATORY. 


6AI 


City,  thr  cnthnlim  imnginnd  mirnrlca  tu  bo  wroiit{)it  wiih  tliJN  miiicr.tttla 
niiii'rcuiit'M  liloo'l,  tiiul  in  .S|miii  h«  was  <>v(>n  trrutcil  jm  n  martyr !  Throiiyh* 
out  thii  wholn  afTair,  irult^nd,  tlw*  nvil  naturf!  of  Kiiprrriliiiuii  wai  to  bUme 
for  sill  the  uuilt  and  nil  tlin  Niinrcriii;.  Tho  coiiftpiriitiirs  in  thin  cma  were 
not  low  riilllans  of  drnp«;ratt!  rorliinH;  llicy  were  for  tin)  moMt  part  iiicu  of 
both  pro|M'rty  mid  rliaractnr ;  and  (-at»!Mby  wa«  n  man  who  poHscssfd  an 
rHppciaily  and  (inviably  \\\g\i  idiaracrtT.  Dighy  hIho  wua  a  man  of  rxcuU 
jptit  rrpulalinn,  ho  innoli  so,  that  hi.i  h(>ing  a  known  and  rigiil  piipist  hail 
not  pri'vciitfd  liim  from  hting  liiglily  osieemed  and  honoured  hy  Qucun 
Khzaht'th. 

When  thn  punishment  of  tho  wretches  who  had  mainly  been  concerned 
In  this  plot  left  the  court  leisure  for  relleclion,  some  minor  l)Ul  severe  pun- 
ishments were  indicted  upon  those  who  w«'r«>  thought  by  connivance  or 
negligence  to  have  been  in  any  degree  aiding  the  chief  oflTenders.  Thm 
tiie  earl  of  Northumberland  was  fined  the  then  enormous  sum  of  thirty 
thousand  pounds,  and  iniprisoneil  for  seven  y«!arH  afterwards,  hecauMe  Ik' 
had  not  exacted  lh«  usual  oaihs  from  Picrcy  on  admitting  him  to  theofllce 
of  gentlenvnj  pensioner.  The  catholic  lonls  Stourton  and  Mctrdaunt.  too, 
wore  flncil,  the  former  four  and  the  latter  ten  thousand  pounds  hy  that  cvet 
arbitrary  court,  tho  stareliamher,  for  no  other  offence  than  their  absence 
from  parliament  on  this  occasion.  This  absence  was  taken  us  a  proof  of 
their  knowledge  of  tho  plot,  though  surely,  if  these  two  noblemen  had 
known  of  it,  they  would  Imvo  warned  many  other  catholics;  while  a  hun- 
dred more  innocent  reasons  might  cause  their  own  absence. 

Of  the  conduct  of  James,  in  regard  to  the  duly  he  owed  to  justice  iu 
punishing  tho  ;Tuilty,  and  confining  pimishment  strictly  to  those  of  whose 
guilt  there  is  tho  most  unequivocal  proof,  it  is  not  easy  to  speak  too 
warmly.  Tho  prejudice  shown  against  catholics  in  the  case  of  the  lords 
Stourton  and  Mordaunt,  and  the  infinite  brutalities  inflicted  upon  the 
wretched  conspirator,  were  the  crimes  of  the  age;  but  the  severe  and  dig- 
nified attention  to  a  just  and  large  charity  of  judgment  as  a  general  prin- 
ciple, which  is  displayed  in  the  king's  speech  to  this  parliament,  is  a  merit 
uli  his  own. 

He  observed,  says  Hume,  "that  though  religion  had  engaged  the  con- 
spirators in  90  criminal  an  attempt,  yet  ought  we  not  to  involve  all  the 
Roman  catholics  in  tho  same  guilt,  or  suppose  them  equally  disposed  to 
commit  such  enormous  barbarities.  Many  holy  men,  and  our  ancestors 
among  the  rest,  had  been  seduced  to  concur  with  tliut  church  in  her  scho- 
lastic doctrines,  who  yet  had  never  admitted  her  seditious  principles,  con- 
cerning the  pope's  power  of  dethroning  kings  or  sanctifying  assassination. 
The  wrath  of  heaven  is  denounced  against  crimes,  but  innocent  error  may 
obtain  its  favour;  and  nothing  can  be  more  hateful  than  the  uncharitablo- 
ncss  of  the  puritans  who  condemn  alike  to  eternal  torments  even  tlie  most 
inoffensive  partisans  of  popory.  For  his  own  part,  that  conspiracy,  how- 
ever atrocious,  should  never  alter,  in  the  least,  his  plan  of  government; 
while  with  one  hand  he  would  punish  guilt,  with  the  other  he  would  still 
support  and  protect  innocence." 

A.  D.  1606. — Tiie  protestants,  and  especially  the  puritans,  were  inclined 
to  plunge  to  a  very  great  extent  into  that  injustice  of  which  the  king's 
speech  so  ably  warned  them.  But  the  king,  even  at  sonu  hazard  to  him- 
self and  at  some  actual  loss  of  popularity,  persisted  in  looking  at  men's 
secular  conduct  as  a  thing  quite  apart  from  their  ghostly  opinions.  He 
bestowed  employment  and  favour,  other  things  being  equal,  alike  on 
catholic  and  protestant:  and  tho  only  hardship  caused  to  the  great  body 
of  the  papists  by  the  horrible  gunpowder  plot  was  the  enactment  of  a  bill 
obliging  every  one  without  exception  to  take  oath  of  allegiance.  No  great 
hardship  upon  any  good  subject  or  honest  and  humaiu3  man,  since  it  onlv 
abjured  the  power  of  the  pope  to  dethrone  the  king  ! 


£62 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


Almost  as  soon  as  James  nrrived  in  England  he  showed  himsflif  in 
one  respect,  at  the  least,  very  far  more  advanced  in  true  statesmanship 
thaninost  of  his  subjects.  They  for  a  long  time  displayed  a  smiill  and 
spiteful  jealousy  of  the  Scots;  he,  almost  as  soon  as  he  mounted  the  Ma- 
glish  throne,  endeavoured  to  merge  Kngland  and  Scotland,  two  separata 
nations,  always  sullen  and  sometimes  sanguinary  and  despoiling  enemies, 
into  a  (ireat  Britain  that  might  indeed  bid  defiance  to  the  world,  and  that 
should  be  united  in  laws  and  liberties,  in  prosperity  and  in  interests,  as  it 
already  was  by  the  hand  of  nature.  There  was  nothing,  however,  in  the 
earlier  part  of  his  reign,  by  which  so  much  heart-burning  was  caused  be- 
tween the  king  and  his  parliament,  as  by  the  wisdom  of  the  former  and 
the  ignorance  and  narrow  prejudice  of  the  latter  on  this  very  point.  All 
the  exercise  of  the  king's  earnestness  and  influence,  aided  by  the  eloquence 
of,  perhaps,  all  things  considered,  the  greatest  man  England  has  ever  had 
Sir  Francis  Bacon,  could  not  succeed  over  the  petty  nationalities  of  the 
Scotch  and  English  parliaments  any  farther  for  the  present,  than  to  piocuro 
an  ungracious  and  reluctant  repeal  of  the  directly  hostile  laws  existing  in 
the  two  kingdoms  respectively.  Nay,  so  averse,  at  the  onset,  was  the 
English  parliament  to  a  measure,  the  grand  necessity  and  value  of  which 
no  one  could  now  dispute  without  being  suspected  of  the  sheerest  idiocy, 
that  the  bishop  of  Bristol,  for  writing  a  book  in  favour  of  the  measnre 
which  lay  ignorance  thus  condemned,  was  so  fiercely  clamoured  against, 
that  he  was  obliged  to  save  himself  from  still  harder  measures  by  making 
an  humble  submission  to  these  ignorant  and  bigoted  legislators. 

A.  D.  1007. — Tlie  practical  tolerance  of  the  king  as  opposed  to  his  arbi- 
trary  maxims  of  government,  and  the  parliament's  lust  of  persecution  as 
contrasted  with  its  perpetual  struggles  to  obtain  more  power  and  liberty 
for  itself,  were  strongly  illustrated  this  year.  A  bill  was  originated  in  the 
lower  house  for  a  more  strict  observance  of  the  laws  against  popish  recu- 
sants, and  for  an  abatement  towards  such  protestant  clergymen  as  should 
scruple  at  the  still  existing  church  ceremonials.  This  measure  was  doubly 
distasteful  to  the  king ;  as  a  highly  liberal  protestant  he  disliked  the  at- 
tempt to  recur  to  the  old  severities  against  the  catholics ;  and  as  a  hig;h 
prerogative  monarch  he  was  still  more  hostile  to  the  insidious  endeavour 
of  the  puritans,  by  weakening  the  church  of  England,  to  acquire  the  power 
to  themselves  of  bearding  and  coercing  the  civil  government. 

In  this  same  year,  however,  the  very  parliament  which,  on  the  remon- 
strance of  the  king,  obediently  stopped  the  progress  of  that  doubly  dis- 
agreeable measure,  gave  a  striking  proof  of  its  growing  sense  of  self  im- 
portance by  commencing  a  regular  journal  of  its  proceedings. 

A.  D.  1610. — James  was  so  careful  to  preserve  peace  abroad  that  much 
of  his  reign  might  be  passed  over  without  remark,  but  for  the  frequent 
bickerings  which  occurred  between  him  and  his  parliament  on  the  subject 
of  money.  Even  in  the  usually  arbitrary  reign  of  Elizabeth  the  parlia- 
ment had  already  learned  the  power  of  the  purse.  The  puritan  party  was 
now  gradually  acquiring  that  at  once  tyrannical  and  republican  feeling 
which  was  to  be  so  fatal  to  the  monarchy  and  so  disgraceful  to  the  nation, 
and  although  James  was  allowed  a  theoretical  despotism,  a  mere  tyranny 
of  maxims  and  sentences,  some  merely  silly,  and  others — could  he  have 
acted  upon  them — to  the  last  degree  dangerous,  the  true  tyranny  was  that 
of  the  parliament  which  exerted  their  power  with  the  merciless  and  fiifnl 
malignity  of  a  dwarf  which  has  suddenly  become  possessed  of  a  giant's 
strength.  The  earl  of  Salisbury,  who  was  now  treasurer,  laid  before  both 
houses,  this  session,  the  very  peculiar  situation  in  which  the  king  was 
placed.  Queen  Elizabeth,  though  she  had  received  large  supplies  during 
the  latter  part  of  her  reign,  had  made  very  considerable  alienations  of  the 
crown  lands ;  the  crown  was  now  burdened  with  debt  to  the  amount  of 
300,000  pounds,  and  the  king  was  obliged,  instead  of  a  single  court  as  in 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


669 


3  re  moil- 


lal  much 
frequent 
e  subject 
parliii- 
rirly  was 
u  feeliug 
le  nation, 
tyranny 
he  have 
was  'hat 
and  fiiful 
giant's 
fore  both 
king  was 
ics  during 
iiis  of  the 
mount  of 
urt  as  in 


Itw  late  reign,  to  keep  thrnn  courts,  Ills  own,  that  of  the  queon,  and  thai 
of  the  princo  of  Wales.  But  though  these  really  strong  aiuJ  most  reasoa- 
iible  arguments  were  also  urged  by  the  king  himself  in  his  speeih  to  par- 
liamenr,  they  granted  him  only  one  hundred  thousand  pounds — Ids  debts 
alone  being  thrice  that  sum !  It  eannot,  after  this  statement  uf  the  situ- 
ation of  tile  king  and  the  t(.'mper  in  whieh  parliament  used  the  power  we 
have  spoken  of,  be  astonishing  that  henecforlh  tliere  was  one  perpetual 
struggle  between  them,  he  striving  for  the  means  of  supporting  the  national 
dignity,  and  indulging  a  generosity  of  temper  which,  imprudent  in  any 
king,  was  doubly  so  in  one  who  had  to  deal  with  so  close-fisted  a  parlia- 
ment; and  they  striving  at  once  to  abridge  the  king's  prero^jalive,  and  to 
escape  from  supplying  even  his  most  reasonable  demands. 

An  iiiiiident  oecurred  this  year  which,  taken  in  contrast  with  the  ex- 
treme horror  of  foreign  disputes  whieh  .lames  usually  disjjlayed,  affords 
a  rallicr  amusing  illustration  of  the  extent  to  which  even  so  petty  a  "  ruling 
passion"  as  pedantry  may  domineer  over  all  others. 

Vorslius,  a  divinity  professor  of  a  German  university,  was  appointed 
to  the  chair  of  a  Dutch  university.  He  was  a  disciple  of  Arminius,  and 
moreover  had  the  presumption  to  be  opposed  in  argument  to  King  James, 
who  did  not  think  it  beneath  his  royal  dignity,  or  too  manifest  and  dan- 
gerous a  departure  from  his  pacific  foreign  policy,  seriously  to  demand 
of  the  sl.iles  that  they  should  deprive  and  banish  the  obnoxious  professor. 
The  procedure  was  at  once  so  absurd  and  so  severe,  that  the  Dutch  at 
first  refused  to  remove  Vorstius  ;  but  the  king  returned  to  the  charge  with 
such  an  earnest  fierceness,  that  the  stites  deemed  it  politic  to  yield,  and 
the  poor  professor,  who  was  luckless  enough  to  differ  from  King  James, 
was  deprived  of  both  his  home  and  employment.  In  the  course  of  this 
dispute,  James,  who  had  so  creditably  ar-jued  for  charity  in  the  case  of  the 
attempt  of  his  puritans  to  oppress  their  catholic  fellow-subjects,  made  use 
of  this  revolting  observation : — "  Ho  would  leave  it  to  the  states  themselves 
as  to  the.  burning  of  Vorslius  for  blasphemies  and  atheism,  but  surely  never 
heretic  better  deserved  the  flames  .'" 

Of  James'  conduct  in  and  towards  Ireland  we  liave  given  a  full  account, 
which  is  very  creditable  to  him,  under  the  head  of  that  country.  We  now, 
therefore,  pass  forward  to  the  domestic  incidents  of  England,  commencing 
with  the  death  of  Henry,  prince  of  Wales,  an  event  whicli  was  deeply 
and  with  good  reason  deplored. 

A.  D.  1'61-J. — This  young  prince,  who  was  only  in  his  eighteenth  year, 
was  exceedingly  beloved  by  the  nation,  having  given  every  promise  of  a 
truly  royal  manhood.  Generous,  high-spirited,  brave,  and  anxious  for 
men's  esteem,  perhaps,  in  the  turbulent  days  that  awaited  England,  even 
his  chief  fault — a  too  great  propensity  to  things  military  would  have 
proved  of  service  to  the  nation,  by  bringing  thi  dispiKe  between  the  crown 
and  the  puritans  to  an  issue  before  the  sour  ambition  of  the  latter  could 
have  sufficiently  matured  its  views.  Dignified  and  of  a  high  turn  of  mind, 
lie  seems  to  have  held  the  finessing  and  the  somewhat  vulgar  familiarity 
of  his  father  in  something  too  nearly  approaching  contempt.  To  Raleigh, 
who  had  so  long  been  kept  a  prisoner,  ho  openly  and  enthusiastically 
avowed  his  attachment,  and  was  heard  to  say, "  Sure  no  king  except  my 
father  would  keep  sucdi  a  bird  in  a  cage."  So  sudden  was  the  young 
prince's  death  that  evil  tongues  attributed  it  to  poison,  and  some  even 
iiiiited  that  the  prince's  popularity  and  free  speech  had  become  intolerable 
to  his  father.  But  the  surgical  examination  of  the  body  clearly  proved 
that  there  was  no  poison  in  the  case ;  and  moreover,  if  James  failed  at  all 
in  the  parental  character,  it  was  by  an  excessive  and  indiscriminate  fond- 
ness and  indulgence. 

A.  D.  1G13. — The  marriage  of  the  princess  Elizabeth  to  Frederic,  the 
elector  oalatinc,  took  place  this  year,  and  the  entertainments  in  honour  of 


S6t 


THE  TRBASUEY  OP  HISTORY. 


that  evnnt  served  to  dispel  the  deep  gloom  which  had  been  caused  by  the 
death  of  Prince  Henry.  But  this  event,  so  much  rejoiced  at,  was  cue  of 
the  most  unfortunate  that  occurred  during  the  whole  generally  fortunate 
reigo  of  James,  whom  it  plunged  into  expenses  on  account  of  his  soiiin. 
law  which  nothing  could  have  induced  him  to  incur  for  any  warlike  erucr- 
prize  of  his  own. 

But  before  we  speak  of  the  consequence  of  this  unfortunate  connec. 
tion,  we  must,  to  preserve  due  order  of  time,  refer  to  an  event  which  cre- 
ated a  strong  feeling  of  horror  and  disgust  throughout  the  nation—ibe 
murder  of  Sir  Thomas  Overbury  at  the  instance  of  the  earl  Rnd  countess 
of  Somerset. 

Robert  Carre,  a  youth  of  a  respectable  but  not  wealthy  family  in  Scotland 
arrived  in  London  in  the  year  1609,  bringing  with  him  letters  of  recom- 
mendation to  Lord  Hay.  Carre,  then  quite  a  youth,  was  singularly  hand- 
some and  possessed  in  perfection  all  the  merely  external  accomplisments' 
though  his  education  was  so  imperfect,  that  it  is  stated  that  long  after  his 
introduction  to  the  king's  notice  he  was  so  ignorant  of  even  the  rudiments 
of  the  then  almost  indispensable  Latin,  that  James  was  wont  to  exchange 
the  sceptre  for  the  birch,  and  personally  to  play  the  pedagogue  to  the  boy. 
favourite.  Noting  the  comely  aspect  and  graceful  bearing  of  young  Carre 
Lord  Hay  took  an  opportunity  to  place  him  in  the  king's  sight  at  a  tilting 
match,  and  it  chanced  that  on  thiii  very  occasion  James'  attention  was 
the  more  strongly  drawn  to  him  by  an  accident  occurring  by  which  young 
Carre's  leg  was  broken.  The  sight  of  this  so  affected  the  king,  that  in  the 
course  of  the  day  he  went  to  the  young  patient's  chamber,  consoled  him 
with  many  kind  words,  and  became  so  pleased  with  his  spirit  and  general 
behaviour,  that  he  instantly  adopted  him  as  an  especial  and  favoured  per- 
sonal attendant.  Attentive  to  the  lessons  of  the  kingly  pedagogue,  and 
skilful  in  discovering  and  managing  his  weaknesses,  young  Carre  also 
possessed  the  art  so  many  favourites  have  perished  for  lack  of ;  he  was  a 
courtier  not  only  to  the  king  but  to  all  who  approached  the  king.  By  thus 
prudently  aiding  the  predilection  of  the  king,  Carre  rapidly  rose.  He  was 
Knighted,  then  created  earl  of  Rochester  and  K.  G.,  and  introduced  Into 
the  privy  council.  Wealth  and  power  accompanied  this  rapid  rise  in  rank, 
and  in  a  short  time  this  new  favourite,  without  any  definite  office  in  the 
ministry,  actually  had  more  real  influence  in  the  management  of  affairs 
than  the  wise  Salisbury  himself. 

Much  of  his  success  Carre  owed  to  the  wise  counsels  of  Sir  Thomas 
Overbury,  whose  friendship  he  claimed,  and  who  became  at  once  his  ad- 
viser and  his  client,  and  counselled  none  the  less  earnestly  and  well  be- 
cause  he  felt  that  his  own  chief  hope  of  rising  at  court  rested  upon  the 
success  of  Carre.  Thus  guided,  the  naturally  sagacious  and  flexible 
youth  soon  ripened  into  the  powerful,  admired,  and  singularly  prosperous 
man.  Unfortunately  he  became  passionately  attached  to  the  young  coun- 
tess of  Essex,  who  as  unfortunately  returned  his  passion.  This  lady  when 
only  thirteen  years  of  age,  as  Lady  Frances  Howard,  daughter  of  the  earl 
of  Suffolk,  was,  by  the  king's  request,  married  to  the  young  carl  of  Es- 
sex, then  only  fourteen.  In  consideration  of  their  extreme  youth  the  cer- 
emony was  no  sooner  completed  than  the  youthful  bridegroom  departed 
i'j  the  continent,  and  did  not  return  from  his  travels  until  four  years  after 
In  the  meantime  the  young  countess  of  Essex  and  Viscount  Ro-ihestei 
had  met,  loved,  and  sinned  ;  and  when  the  young  earl,  with  the  impatieni 
ardour  of  eighteen,  flew  to  his  fair  countess,  he  was  thunderstruck  at  be 
ing  received  not  with  mere  coolness,  but  with  something  approaching  tr 
actual  loathing  and  horror.  ^The  countess'  passion  for  and  guilty  connec 
tion  with  Rochester  were  not  even  suspected,  and  every  imaginable  mean? 
were  resorted  to  for  the  purpose  of  overcoming  what  was  deemed  to  be  i 
mere  excess  of  maidenly  coyness.    All  means,  however,  were  alike  vaia. 


TBR  TKBAiJUF  t  OF  HISTORY. 


656 


nothing  could  induce  her  to  liv«  w.(h  her  husband,  and  she  and  Rochester 
now  determined  to  VTAke  'K'^y  for  their  marriage  by  a  divorce  of  the  lady 
from  the  earl  of  Esne-t. 

Rochester  consulted  .-, ;  homas  Overbury  ;  but  that  prudent  courtier, 
though  he  had  been  pri«v  -  and  had  even  encouraged  their  criminal  con- 
nection,  was  too  Rinccrely  anxious  for  the  character  and  happiness  of  his 
friend  not  to  diosuade  him  from  the  ignominy  of  procuring  this  divorce, 
and  the  folly  of  committing  his  own  peace  and  honour  to  the  keeping  of  a 
woman  of  whose  harlotry  he  had  personal  knowledge.  Connected  as 
Rochester  and  the  countess  were,  the  latter  was  not  long  ignorant  of  this 
advice  given  by  Overbury,  and  with  the  rage  of  an  insulted  woman  and 
the  artful  blandishments  of  a  beauty,  she  easily  persuaded  the  enamoured 
Rochester  that  he,  too,  was  injured  by  that  very  conduct  in  which  Over- 
bury had  undoubtedly  most  proved  the  sincerrty  and  the  wisdom  of  his 
friendship  Having  brought  Rochester  to  this  point,  the  countess  found 
little  difficulty  in  determining  him  to  the  ruin  of  that  friend  to  whom  he 
owed  80  much,  and  by  artfully  getting  Overbury  a  mission  from  the  king 
and  then  privately  counselling  Overbury  to  reject  it,  he  managed  so  to  dune 
and  eniage  James  that  the  unfortunate  Overbury  was  committed  to  tne 
Tower,  where,  however,  it  does  not  appear  that  James  meant  him  long  to 
remain.  But  the  instant  he  entered  there.  Sir  Thomas  was  fully  in  the 
power  of  his  arch  enemies.  The  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  a  mere  crea- 
ture and  dependant  of  Rochester,  confined  Overbury  with  such  strictness, 
that  for  six  months  the  unfortunate  man  did  not  see  even  one  of  his  near- 
est relatives. 

Having  got  rid  of  the  grave  and  troublesome  opposition  of  Overbury, 
the  guilty  lovers  now  pushed  forward  matters;  and  the  earl  of  Essex, 
completely  cured  of  his  love  for  the  lady  by  what  appeared  to  him  the 
unaccountable  capriciousness  of  her  conduct,  very  gladly  consented  to  a 
ridiculously  indecent  plea,  which  induced  the  proper  authorities  to  pro- 
nounce a  divorce  between  the  earl  and  countess  of  Essex.  The  latter 
was  immediately  married  to  her  paramour,  Rochester,  upon  whom,  that 
the  lady  might  not  lose  a  step  in  rank  by  her  new  marriage,  the  king 
now  conferred  the  title  of  earl  of  Somerset'. 

Though  the  imprisonment  of  Overbury  had  thus  completely  served  her 
purpose  as  to  her  divorce  and  re-marriage,  it  had  by  no  means  satiated 
the  revenge  of  the  countess.  The  forcible  and  bitter  contempt  with 
which  Overbury  had  spoken  of  her  was  still  farther  envenomed  by  her 
own  consciousness  of  its  justice,  and  she  now  exerted  all  the  power  of  her 
beauty  and  her  blandishments,  until  she  persuaded  the  uxorious  Somerset 
that  their  secret  was  too  much  in  danger  while  Overbury  still  lived,  and 
that  their  safety  demanded  his  death.  Poison  was  resorted  to ;  Loth  Som- 
erset and  his  countess'  uncle,  the  earl  of  Northampton,  joining  in  the  cow- 
ardly crime  with  some  accomplices  of  lower  rank.  Slight  doses,  only, 
were  given  to  the  doomed  victim  in  the  first  place,  but  these  failing  of  the 
iesired  effect,  the  base  conspirators  gave  him  a  dose  so  violent  that  he 
died,  and  with  such  evident  marks  of  the  foul  treatment  that  he  had  met 
with,  that  an  instant  discovery  was  only  avoided  by  burying  the  body  with 
sn  indecent  haste. 

Even  in  this  world  of  imperfect  knowledge  and  often  mistaken  judg- 
ment, the  plotting  and  cold-blooded  murderer  never  escapes  punishment. 
The  scaffold  or  the  gallows,  the  galleys  or  the  gaol,  indeed,  he  may, 
though  that  but  rarely  happens,  contrive  to  elude.  But  tlie  tortures  of  a 
guilty  conscience,  a  constant  remorse  mingled  with  a  constant  dread,  a 
continued  and  haunting  remembrance  of  the  wrong  done  to  the  dead,  and  a 
constant  horror  of  the  dread  retribution  which  at  any  instant  the  slightest 
«nd  most  unforeseen  accident  may  bring  upon  his  own  guilty  head— 
Vhese  punishments  the  murderer  never  did  and  never  can  escape.    From 


kM 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTOnr. 


the  moment  that  the  unfortunate  Overbury  was  destroyed,  the  whole  feel, 
ing  and  aHpect  of  the  once  gay  and  brilhunt  Somerset  were  changed.  Hg 
became  sad,  silent,  inattentive  to  the  humours  of  the  king,  indifferent  to 
the  fatal  charms  of  the  countess,  morose  to  all,  shy  of  strangers,  wearr 
of  himself.  He  had  a  doomed  aspect;  the  wild  eye  and  hasty  yei  uncer. 
tain  gait  of  one  who  sees  himself  surroimded  by  the  avengers  of  blood 
and  is  every  instant  expocting  to  feel  their  grasp. 

As  what  was  at  first  attributed  to  temporary  illness  of  body  or  vexation 
of  mind  became  a  settled  and  seemingly  incurable  habit,  the  king,  almost 
boyish  in  his  love  of  mirth  in  his  hours  of  recreation,  gradually  grew 
wearied  of  the  presence  of  his  favourite.  All  the  skill  and  policy  of 
Somerset,  all  the  artful  moderation  with  which  he  had  worn  his  truly  ex- 
traordinary fortunes  had  not  prevented  him  from  making  many  enemies' 
and  these  no  sooner  perceived,  with  the  quick  eyes  of  courtiers,  ihat  the 
old  favourite  was  falling,  than  they  helped  to  precipitate  his  fall  by  the  in. 
troductioa  of  a  young  and  gay  candidate  for  the  vacant  place  in  the  royal 
favour. 

Just  at  this  critical  moment  in  the  fortunes  of  Somerset,  George  Villjers 
the  cadet  of  a  good  English  family,  returned  from  his  travels.  He  was 
barely  twenty-one  years  of  age,  handsome,  well  educated,  gay,  possessed 
of  an  audacious  spirit,  and  with  precisely  that  love  and  aptitude  for  per- 
sonal adornment  which  became  his  youth.  This  attractive  person  was 
placed  full  in  the  king's  view  during  the  performance  of  a  comedy.  James 
as  had  been  anticipated,  no  sooner  saw  him  than  he  became  anxious  for 
his  personal  attendance.  After  some  very  ludicrous  coquetting  between 
his  desire  for  a  new  favourite  and  his  unwillingness  to  cast  off  the  old  one, 
James  had  the  young  man  introduced  at  court,  and  very  soon  appointed 
him  his  cup-bearer.  Though  the  ever-speaking  conscience  of  Somerset 
had  long  made  him  unfit  for  his  former  gaity,  he  was  by  no  means  pre- 
pared to  see  himself  supplanted  in  the  royal  favour ;  but  before  he  could 
make  any  effort  to  ruin  or  otherwise  dispose  of  young  Villiers,  a  discovery 
was  made  which  very  effectually  ruined  himself. 

Among  many  persons  whom  Somerset  and  his  guilty  countess  had 
found  it  necessary  to  employ  in  the  execution  of  their  atrocious  design, 
was  an  apothecary's  apprentice  who  had  been  employed  in  mixing  up  the 
poisons.  This  man,  now  living  at  Flushing,  made  no  scruple  of  openly 
stating  that  Overbury  had  died  of  poison,  and  that  he  had  himself  heeii 
employed  in  preparing  it.  The  report  reached  the  ears  of  the  English 
envoy  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  was  by  him  transmitted  to  the  secretary 
of  state,  Winwood,  who  at  once  communicated  it  to  the  king.  However 
iveary  of  his  favourite,  James  was  struck  with  horror  and  surprise  on  re- 
ceiving this  report,  but  with  a  rigid  impartiality  which  does  honour  to  his 
memory,  he  at  once  sent  for  Sir  Edward  Coke,  the  chief  justice,  and  com- 
manded him  to  examine  into  the  matter  as  carefully  and  as  unsparingly 
as  if  the  accused  persons  were  the  lowest  and  the  least  cared  for  in  the 
land.  The  stern  nature  of  Coke  scarcely  needed  this  injunction;  the  in- 
quiry was  steadily  and  searchingly  carried  on,  and  it  resulted  in  the  com- 
plete proof  of  the  guilt  of  the  earl  and  countess  of  Somerset,  Sir  Jervis 
Elvin,  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  Franklin,  Weston,  and  Mrs.  Turner.  Of 
the  temper  of  Coke  this  very  trial  affords  a  remarkable  and  mt  very 
creditable  instance.  Addressing  Mrs.  Turner,  he  told  her  that  she  waj 
"guilt'  of  the  seven  deadly  sins;  being  a  harlot,  a  bawd,  a  sorceress,  a 
witch,  a  papist,  a  felon,  and  a  murderer!" 

The  honourable  impartiality  with  which  the  king  had  ordered  an  inqui^ 
into  the  murder  of  Sir  Thomas  Overbury  was  not  equally  observed  after. 
wards.  All  the  accused  were  very  properly  condemned  to  death ;  but  the 
sentence  was  executed  only  on  the  accomplices ;  by  far  the  worst  crimi. 
iials,  the  ear]  and  countess  were  pardoned !    A  very  brief  imprisonmenl 


THE  TRBASUUY  OF  HISTORY. 


567 


wid  ihe  forfeiture  of  their  estates  were  allowed  to  expiate  tneir  enormous 
crimes,  and  tiiey  were  then  assigned  a  pension  su^cient  for  their  suj.port, 
and  allowed  to  retire  to  the  country.  But  the  pardon  of  man  could  not 
secure  them  the  peace  of  heart  which  their  crime  had  justly  forfeited. 
They  lived  in  the  same  house,  but  they  lived  only  in  an  alternation  of  sul- 
leniiess  and  chidiMg,  and  thus  they  dragged  on  many  wi^ilched  years,  a 
mutual  torment  in  their  old  age  as  they  had  been  a  mutual  snare  m  their 
youth,  until  they  at  length  sank  unregrelled  and  ui  honoured  into  the  grave. 

A.  D-  1616' — '^'^^  ^'^^^  °^  Somerset  necessarily  lacilitated  and  hastened 
Iherise  of  young  George  Villiers,  who  in  a  wonderfully  short  time  ob- 
tained promotions — which,  that  the  regularity  of  narrative  may  be  pre- 
served, we  insert  here — as  Viscount  Villiers,  earl,  marquis,  and  finally 
duke  of  Uuckingham,  knight  of  the  garter,  master  of  the  horse,  chief  jus- 
tice in  eyre,  warden  of  the  cinque  ports,  muster  of  the  king's  bench  ofHce, 
steward  of  Weslminisler,  constable  of  Windsor,  and  lord  high  admiral  of 
England.  His  mother  was  made  countess  of  Buckingham,  his  brother 
Viscount  Purbeck,  and  a  whole  host  of  his  previously  obscure  and  needy 
favourites  obtained  honours,  places,  patents,  or  wealth. 

Tiie  profusion  of  the  king — to  which  justice  demands  that  we  add  the 
parsimony  of  the  parliament — made  him  throughout  his  whole  reign  an 
embarrassed  man ;  and  he  incurred  great,  though  undeserved  odium  by 
the  course  he  took  to  supply  his  pressing  and  immediate  wants.  When 
Elizabeth  aided  the  infant  states  of  Holland  against  the  gigantic  power  of 
Spain,  she  had  the  important  towns  of  Flushing,  the  Brille,  and  Ramme- 
kiiis  placed  in  her  hands  as  pledges  for  the  repayment  of  tlie  money  to 
England.  Various  payments  had  been  made  which  had  reduced  the  debt 
to  doOOfiOO,  which  sum  the  Dutch  were  under  agreement  to  pay  to  James 
at  the  rate  of  .£40,000  per  annum.  This  annual  sum  would  doubtless 
iiave  been  of  vast  service  to  the  king — but  <£26,000  per  annum  were  spent 
in  maintaining  his  garrisons  in  the  cautionary  or  mortgaged  towns.  Only 
il4,000  remained  clear  to  England,  and  even  that  would  cease  in  the 
event  of  new  warfare  between  Holland  and  Spain.  Considering  these 
things,  and  being  pressed  on  all  sides  for  money  to  satisfy  just  demands 
and  the  incessant  cravings  of  his  favourite  and  the  court,  the  king  gladly 
agreed  to  surrender  the  cautionary  towns  on  the  instant  payment  by  the 
Dutch  of  de250,000 ;  and,  under  all  the  circumstances  .of  the  case,  James 
appears  to  have  acted  with  sound  policy  in  making  the  bargain. 

A.  D.  1617. — In  the  course  of  this  year  James  paid  a  visit  to  Scotland 
with  the  view  to  a  favourite  scheme  which  he  had  long  pondered — pro- 
bably even  before  he  ascended  the  English  throne,  and  while  he  still  was 
Eersonally  annoyed  by  the  rude  and  intrusive  presumption  of  the  puritans, 
lis  scheme  was  "t'»  enlarge  the  episcopal  authority;  to  establish  a  few 
ceremonies  in  publir  worship,  and  to  settle  and  fix  the  superiority  of  the 
civil  10  the  eceles!R';tical  jurisdiction." 

But  though  the  king's  personal  influence  was  now  very  high,  as  wel' 
from  the  peace  he  had  preserved  throughout  his  dominions  and  the  pride 
the  Scotch,  then.?clves  a  pedantic  people,  felt  in  hearing  the  king  whom 
they  had  given  k)  England,  cited  as  "  the  British  Solomon,"  as  from  the 
great,  not  to  sf-y  unjust,  preference  which  the  king  took  every  opportunity 
to  show  to  Srottish  suitors  for  promotion,  even  his  influence,  after  much 
opposition  on  the  part  of  the  clergy,  could  only  procure  him  a  sullen 
adoption  of  bnt  a  small  portion  of  his  plan.  "Episcopacy"  was  so  much 
the  detestation  of  the  Scotch,  that  it  is  surprising  tliat  so  shrewd  a  king 
as  James  should  have  made  a  point  of  endeavouring  to  force  it  upon  them 
But,  as  if  he  had  not  done  sufficient  in  the  way  of  affronting  the  religious 
prejudices  of  the  Scotch,  James  no  sooner  returned  home  than  he  equally 
affronted  those  of  that  large  party  of  his  English  subjects,  the  puritans. 
That  dark,  sullen,  joyless,  and  joy-hating  set  of  men  had,  by  degrees 


558 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


brought  the  originnl  decorous  Sunday  of  England  to  be  a  day  of  the  moit 
silent  and  intense  gloom.  Thta  was  noticed  by  the  king  in  his  return  from 
Scotland,  and  he  immediately  issued  a  proclamation  by  whicli  all  kinds  oi 
lawful  games  and  exercises  were  allowed  after  divine  service.  However 
imprudent  this  proclamation  on  the  part  of  the  king,  we  are  inclined  to  be- 
lieve  that  in  spirit  his  extreme  was  wiser  than  that  of  the  puritans.  But 
whatever  may  be  the  good  or  the  bad  policy  of  the  practice,  it  is  certain 
that  the  king  chose  a  wrong  time  for  recommending  it.  Even  his  authority 
was  as  nothing  against  superstitious  fanaticism.  But  while  he  failed  to 
check  or  persuade  the  puritans,  did  he  not  irritate  them  1  Might  not  the 
sharpening  of  many  a  sword  that  was  bared  against  Charles  I.  be  traced' 
to  the  vexation  caused  in  puritan  bosoms  by  this  very  proclamation  of 
his  father  1 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 
THE  REiON  OF  JAMES  I.  (continued). 

A.  D.  1618. — Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  the  favourite  of  Elizabeth,  the  opponent 
and  enemy  of  Essex,  to  whom  he  had  shown  ai:  implacable  and  savage 
spirit  which  makes  us  doubt  whether  the  world  had  not  been  greatly  mis- 
taken  in  deeming  him  a  good  as  well  as  a  great  man,  had  now  been  for 
thirteen  years  lingering  in  his  prison.  Though  advanced  in  years  and 
•uined  in  fortune,  even  imprisonment  could  not  break  his  unquestionably 
laring  and  resolved  spirit.  Soldier,  seaman,  courtier,  and  man  of  intrigue 
luring  so  much  of  his  life,  it  was  when,  amid  the  yells  of  the  public  fe- 
locity,  which  his  own  cruelty,  however,  had  provoked  and  exemplared, 
ie  was  led  to  the  Tower  of  London,  that  he,  instead  of  resigning  himself 
.0  despair,  commenced  his  elaborate  and  really  learned  History  of  the 
vVorkl!  Thirteen  years  of  confinement  could  not  quell  that  enduring  and 
laring  spirit ;  and,  as  the  report  of  his  friends  informed  him  that  public 
opinion  was  very  favourably  and  greatly  changed  on  his  behalf,  he  now 
Degan  to  scheme  for  obtaining  his  enlargement.  He  caused  it  to  be  noised 
abroad  that,  during  one  of  his  voyages,  he  had  discovered  a  gold  mine  in 
Guiana,  so  rich  that  it  would  afford  enormous  wealth  not  only  to  any 
gallant  adventurers  who,  under  proper  guidance,  should  seek  it,  but  also 
to  the  entire  nation  at  large.  These  reports,  as  Raleigh  from  the  first 
ntended,  reached  the  ears  of  the  king;  but  James  doubted  the  existence 
of  the  mine,  and  the  more  so  because  it  was  clear  that  a  man  in  the  sad 
situation  of  Raleigh  might  be  expected  to  say  almost  anything  to  obtain 
freedom.  But  the  report  was  so  far  serviceable  to  Raleigh,  that  it  re- 
minded the  king  of  the  long  dreary  years  the  once  gallant  soldier  and  gay 
courtier  of  Elizabeth  had  passed  in  the  gloom  of  a  dungeon,  and  he  liber- 
ited  him  from  the  Tower,  but  refused  to  release  him  from  the  original 
sentence  of  death,  which,  he  said,  he  considered  a  necessary  check  upon 
a  man  of  Raleigh's  character,  which  assuredly  had  more  of  talent  and 
audacity  than  of  either  probity  or  mercy. 

Though  James  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  give  credit  to  the  insigni- 
ficant tale  of  Raleigh,  he  gave  full  leave  to  all  private  adventurers  who 
might  clioose  to  join  him  ;  and  Raleigh's  intrepid  assertions,  baci;ed  by 
his  great  repute  for  both  talent  and  courage,  soon  placed  him  at  the  head 
of  twelve  ships,  well  armed  and  manned,  and  provided  with  everyihing 
necessary  for  piracy  and  plunder,  but  with  nothing  calculated  for  digging 
the  preiended  treasure. 

On  the  river  Oronoko,  in  Guiana,  the  Spaniards  had  built  a  town  called 
St.  Thomas,  which,  at  this  time,  was  exceedingly  wealthy.  Raleigh  had 
taken  possession  of  the  whole  district  above  twenty  years  before  in  tht 


THE  TREASURY  OF  UldTORY. 


559 


name  of  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  but  as  he  had  immediately  left  the  coast,  hit 
claim  on  behalf  of  England  was  totally  unknown  to  the  Spaniards.  It 
was  to  thi«  wealthy  Spanish  settlement  that  Kaleigh  now  steered,  and  on 
arriving  there  he  stopped  at  the  mouth  of  the  Oronoko  with  five  of  his 
largest  ships,  sending  the  remainder  of  the  expedition  up  to  St.  Thomas' 
iiiidcr  the  command  of  his  son  and  his  fellow-adventurer,  Captain  Kemyss. 
'Plie  Spaniards,  seeing  the  English  adventurers  approach  St.  Thomas  in 
guch  hostile  guise,  fired  at  them,  but  wore  speedily  repulsed  and  driven 
into  the  town.  As  young  Raleif;li  headed  his  men  in  the  attack  on  the 
town,  he  exclaimed,  "  This  is  the  true  mine,  and  they  are  but  fools  who  look 
■  for  any  other  1''^  He  had  scarcely  spoken  the  words  when  ho  received 
a  shot,  and  immediately  fell  dead  ;  Kemyss,  however,  still  continued  the 
attack  and  took  the  town,  which  they  burned  to  ashes  in  their  rage  at 
finding  no  considerable  booty  in  it. 

Raleigh  had  never  averred  that  he  had  himself  ever  seen  the  wonder- 
fully rich  mine  of  which  he  gave  so  glowing  an  account,  but  that  it  had 
been  found  by  Kemyss  on  one  of  their  former  expeditions  together,  and 
that  Kemyss  had  brought  him  a  lump  of  ore,  which  nrovcd  the  value  as 
well  as  the  existence  of  it  the  more.  Yet,  now  t'-  .i,  Kemyss,  by  his  own 
accoinit,  was  within  two  hour's  march  of  the  mine,  he  made  the  most  ab- 
surd  excuses  to  his  men  for  leading  them  no  farther,  and  immediately 
returned  to  Raleigh,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Oronoko,  with  the  melancholy 
news  of  the  death  of  the  younger  Raleigh,  and  the  utter  failure  of  all  their 
liopes  as  far  as  St.  Thomas  was  concerned.  The  scene  between  Raleigh 
and  Kemyss  was  probably  a  very  violent  one  ;  at  all  events  it  had  such 
an  effect  upon  Kemyss  that  he  immediately  retired  to  his  own  cabin  and 
put  an  end  to  his  existence. 

The  other  adventurers  now  perceived  that  they  had  entered  into  both 
a  dangerous  and  unprofitable  speculation,  and  they  inferred  from  all  that 
had  passed  that  Raleigh  from  the  outset  had  relied  upon  piracy  and  plun- 
dering towns— a  kind  of  speculation  for  which  their  ill  success  at  St. 
Thomas  gave  them  no  inclination,  whatever  their  moral  feelings  upon  the 
subject  might  have  been.  On  a  full  consideration  of  all  the  cireumstan- 
les,  the  adventurers  determined  to  return  to  England  and  take  Raleigh 
with  them,  leaving  it  to  him  to  justify  himself  to  the  king  in  the  best  man- 
ner he  could.  On  the  passage  he  repeatedly  endeavoured  to  escape,  but 
was  brought  safely  to  England  and  delivered  up  to  the  king.  The  court 
of  Spain  in  the  meantime  loudly  and  justly  complained  of  the  destruction 
of  St.  Thomas;  and,  after  a  long  examination  before  the  privy  council, 
Raleigh  was  pronounced  guilty  of  wilful  deceit  as  to  the  mine,  and  of  hav- 
ing fruni  the  beginning  intended  to  make  booty  by  piracy  and  land-plun- 
der. The  lawyers  held,  however,  as  a  universal  rule,  that  a  man  who 
already  lay  under  attaint  of  treason  could  in  no  form  bo  tried  anew  for 
another  crime  ;  the  king,  therefore,  signed  a  warrant  for  R-ileiyh's  execu- 
tion for  that  participation  in  the  setting  up  of  the  lady  Arabella  Stuart,  for 
which  he  had  already  suffered  imprisonment  during  the  dreary  period  of 
thirteen  years  !  He  died  with  courage,  with  gayety  almost,  but  without 
bravado  or  indecency.  While  there  was  yet  a  faint  hope  of  his  escvlpe  he 
feigned  a  variety  of  illnesses,  even  including  madness,  to  protract  his 
doom;  but  when  all  hope  was  at  length  at  an  end,  he  threw  ofl'  all  dis- 
guise, and  prepared  to  die  with  that  courage  on  the  scaffold  with  which  he 
had  so  often  dared  death  on  the  field.  Taking  up  the  axe  with  which  he 
was  about  to  be  beheaded,  he  felt  the  edge  of  it,  and  said, "  'Tis  a  sharp,  but 
it  is  also  a  sure  remedy  for  all  ills."  He  then  calmly  laid  his  head  upon 
IhJ  block,  and  was  dead  at  the  first  stroke  of  tlie  axe.  Few  men  had 
been  more  unpopular  a  few  years  earlier  than  Sir  Walter  Raleigh;  but 
llie  courage  he  displayed,  the  long  imprisonment  he  had  sufTc^red,  and  his 
execution  on  a  sentence  pronounced  so  long  before,  merely  to  give  satis- 


MO 


TUB  TRBASUaY  OF  HISTORY. 


faction  to  Spain,  rendered  this  execution  one  of  the  most  unpopular  acti 
ever  performed  by  the  king. 

It  will  be  r(!  1116 mbc red  that  we  spoku  of  the  marriage  of  the  princess 
Elizabctii  to  the  elector  palatine  as  an  event  which  in  the  end  proved 
mischievous  both  to  England  and  to  the  king. 

A.  D.  1619.— Tlie  states  of  Bohemia  being  in  arms  to  maintain  their  re> 
volt  from  the  hated  authority  of  the  catholic  house  of  Austria,  the  mighty 
preparations  made  by  Ferdinand  II.,  and  the  extensive  alliances  he  had 
fluccecded  in  forming  to  the  same  end,  made  the  states  very  anxious  to 
obtain  a  counterbalancing  aid  to  their  cause.  Frederick,  elector  palatine 
being  son-in-law  to  the  king  of  England  and  nephew  to  the  prince  U;m' 
rice,  who  at  this  time  was  possessed  of  almost  unlimited  power  over  the 
United  Provinces,  the  states  of  Bohemia  considered  that  were  he  elected 
to  their  crown — which  they  deemed  elective — their  safety  would  be  in 
Bured  by  his  potent  connections.  They  therefore  offered  to  make  Fred- 
erick  their  sovereign ;  and  he,  looking  only  at  the  honour,  accepted  the 
offer  without  consulting  either  his  uncle  or  father-in-law, probably  because 
he  well  knew  that  they  would  dissuade  him  from  an  honour  so  cusily  and 
onerous  as  this  was  certain  to  prove.  Having  accepted  the  sovereignty 
of  Bohemia,  Frederick  immediately  marched  all  the  troops  he  could  com- 
mand to  the  defence  of  his  new  subjects.  On  tlie  news  of  this  event  ar- 
riving in  England  the  people  of  all  ranks  were  strongly  excited.  As  we 
have  elsewhere  said,  the  people  of  England  are  extremely  affectionate 
towards  their  sovereigns  ;  and  Frederick,  merely  as  the  son-in-law  of  the 
king,  would  have  had  their  warmest  wishes.  But  they  were  still  further 
interested  on  his  behalf,  because  he  was  a  protcstant  prince  opposing  the 
ambition  and  the  persecution  of  the  detested  Spaniard  and  Austrian,  and 
there  was  a  general  cry  for  an  English  army  to  be  sent  forthwith  to  Bu. 
hernia.  Almost  the  only  man  in  the  kingdom  who  was  cloar-sijrhtcd  and 
unmoved  amid  all  this  passionate  feeling  was  James.  He  was  far  too 
deeply  impressed  with  the  opinion  that  it  was  dangerous  for  a  king's  pre- 
rogative and  for  his  subjects'  passive  obedience,  to  look  with  a  favourable 
eye  upon  revolted  states  conferring  a  crown  even  upon  his  own  son-in- 
law.  He  would  not  acknowledge  Frederick  as  king  of  Bohemia,  and 
forbade  his  being  prayed  for  in  the  churches  under  that  title. 

A.  D.  1()20. — However  wise  the  reasonings  of  James,  it  would,  in  the 
end,  have  been  profitable  to  him  to  have  sent  an  English  army,  even  upon 
a  vast  scale,  to  the  assistance  of  Frederick  in  the  first  instance.  Ferdi- 
nand, with  the  duke  of  Bavaria  and  the  count  of  Bucquoy,  and  Spinola, 
with  thirty  thousand  veteran  troops  from  the  Low  Countries,  not  only 
defeated  Frederick  at  the  great  battle  of  Prague,  and  sent  him  and  his 
family  fugitives  into  Holland,  but  also  took  possession  of  the  palatinate. 
This  latier  disaster  might  surely  have  been  prevented,  had  James  at  the 
very  outset  so  far  departed  from  his  pacific  policy  as  to  send  a  consider- 
able army  to  occupy  the  palatinate,  in  doing  which  he  would  by  no  means 
have  stepped  beyond  the  most  strictly  legal  support  of  the  legitimate  righl 
of  his  son-in-law. 

Now  that  Frederick  was  expelled  even  from  his  palatinate,  James  still 
depended  upon  his  tact  in  negotiation  to  spare  him  the  necessity  for  an 
actual  recourse  to  arms ;  but  he  at  the  same  time,  with  the  turn  for  dissim- 
ulation which  was  natural  to  him,  determined  to  use  the  warlike  enthusi- 
asm of  his  subjects  as  a  means  of  obtaining  money,  of  which,  as  usual, 
he  was  painfully  in  want.  Urging  the  necessity  of  instant  recourse  to 
that  forcible  interference,  which  in  truth  he  intended  never  to  make,  he 
tried  to  gain  a  benevolence,  but  even  the  present  concern  for  the  palatine 
would  not  blind  the  people  to  the  arbitrary  nature  of  that  way  of  levying 
heavy  taxes  upon  them,  and  James  was  reluctantly  obliged  to  call  a  par- 
laraent. 


THE  TaBABUKY  OF  HISTORY. 


MI 


«.  D.  '■>''• — The  unwise  inclination  of  the  people  to  plunge  into  war 
on  behalf  of  the  palatine  was  so  far  serviceable  to  James,  that  it  caiiHod 
this  parliament  to  meet  him  with  more  than  usually  dutiful  and  liberal 
dispositions.  Some  few  members,  indeed,  were  inclined  to  make  com- 
nUint  and  redress  of  certain  gross  grievances  tlxur  first  subject  of  atten- 
(ion.  But  the  general  feeling  was  against  them,  and  it  was  with  some- 
thing like  acclamation  that  the  parliament  proceeded  at  once  to  vote  the 
king  two  subsidies. 

This  done,  they  proceeded  to  inquire  into  some  enormous  abuses 
of  the  essentially  pernicious  practice  of  granting  patent  monopolies  of 
particular  branches  of  trade.  It  was  proved  that  Sir  Giles  Monipesson 
and  Sir  Francis  Michel  had  outrageously  abused  their  patent  for  licensing 
inns  and  ale-houses ;  the  former  was  severely  punished,  and  the  latter 
only  escaped  the  same  by  breaking  from  prison  and  going  abroad. 

Still  more  atrocious  was  the  conduct  of  Sir  Edward  ViUiers,  brother  of 
the  favourite,  Buckingham.  Sir  Edward  had  a  patent,  in  conjunction  with 
Mompesson  and  Michel  for  the  sole  making  of  gold  and  silver  lace.  This 
patent  had  not  only  been  abused,  to  the  great  oppresssion  of  the  persons 
engaged  in  that,  then,  very  extensive  trade,  but  also  to  thedownrigiit  rob- 
bery of  all  who  used  the  articles,  in  which  the  patenters  sold  a  vast  deal 
more  of  copper  than  of  gold  or  silver.  Villiers,  instead  of  being  dealt  with 
as  severely  as  his  accomplices,  was  sent  abroad  on  a  mission,  and  entrust* 
ed  with  the  care  of  the  national  interests  and  honour,  as  a  means  of 
screening  him  from  the  punishment  due  to  his  shameless  extortion  and 
robbery  at  home.  Hume,  somewhat  too  tenderly,  suggests  that  the  guilt 
of  Villiers  was  less  enormous  or  less  apparent  than  that  of  his  accompli* 
ces.  But  the  true  cause  of  his  impunity  was  the  power  of  his  insolent 
and  upstart  brother. 

The  king  having  expressed  himself  to  be  well  pleased  that  the  parlia- 
ment had  enabled  him  to  discover  and  punish  this  enormous  system  of 
cruelty  and  fraud,  the  commons  now  ventured  to  carry  their  inquiries 
into  the  practices  of  a  higher  offender.  That  offender,  alas !  fur  poor 
human  nature,  was  the  illustrious  Bacon ; 

"The  wisest,  greatest,  meanest  of  mankind.' 

Kind-hearted,  learned,  wise,  witty,  eloquent,  and  beyond  all  his  contem- 
poraries deep-thoughted  and  sagacious,  the  viscount  St.  Albans,  chancel- 
lor of  England,  was  greedy  almost  to  insanity ;  greedy  not  with  the  miser's 
wretched  love  of  hoarding,  but  with  the  reckless  desire  of  lavishing.  His 
emoluments  were  vast,  his  honours  and  appointments  many,  and  no  one 
could  be  more  eloquent  in  behalf  of  justice  and  moderation  than  this  great 
man,  who  may  justly  be  styled  the  apostle  of  common-sense  in  reasoning. 
Yet  his  profusion  was  so  vast  and  so  utterly  reckless,  and  his  practice  so 
little  in  accordance  with  his  preaching,  that  he  took  the  most  enormous 
bribes  in  his  office  of  judge  in  equity.  Hume  suggests  the  odd  apology 
that  though  he  took  bribes  he  still  did  justice,  and  even  gave  hostile  judg- 
ments where  he  had  been  paid  for  giving  favourable  ones  !  To  us  it  ap- 
pears that  this,  if  true,  was  merely  adding  the  offence  of  robbing  individ- 
uals to  that  of  abusing  his  office.  He  was  very  justly  sentenced  to  im- 
prisonment during  the  royal  pleasure,  or  fine  often  thousand  pounds,  and 
incapacity  for  again  holding  any  office.  The  fine  was  remitted,  and  he 
was  soon  released  from  imprisonment  and  allowed  a  pension  for  his  sup- 
port; a  lenity  which  we  think  he  was  undeserving  of,  in  precise  propor- 
tion to  the  vastness  of  his  ability,  which  ought  to  have  taught  him  to  keep 
his  conscience  clear. 

Many  disputes  now  occurred  from  time  to  time  between  the  king  and 
his  parliament,  and  at  length  the  king  dissolved  them,  imprisoned  Coke, 
Philips,  Selden,  and  Pym  ;  and,  in  his  whimsical  way  of  punishing  refrao. 


»r- 


.IP 


THE  TIIBA8URY  OF  HISTOP.Y. 


tory  people,  sent  Sir  Dudley  Diffgei,  Sir  Thomas  Crew,  Sir  Nathaniel 
Rick,  and  Sir  James  Pcrnit,  on  u  commission  to  Ireland,  a  country  to 
which  a  scholar  and  a  (ino  gentleman  of  that  time  would  about  aw  rt-Hdily 

t[o  as  a  club-lounger  of  our  day  would  to  Siberia,  or  the  salt  mines  of  Po 
and* 

We  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  dwell  at  all  minutely  upon  this  parlia. 
mentary  opposition  to  the  king,  because  it  is  less  important  in  itself  than 
in  its  consequences,  which  we  shall  have  to  developc  in  the  succeeding 
reign.  The  seed  of  the  civil  war  was  now  being  sowed.  The  commons  were 
daily  gaining  power  and  the  consciousness  of  power,  but  without  the  largn 
and  generous  as  well  as  wise  spirit  which  knows  how  io  reform  gradually. 

Even  the  king  himself,  with  all  his  high  opinions  of  prerogative  and  hig 
only  too  great  readiness  to  exert  it,  perceived  that  the  day  was  past  fot 
governing  with  the  high  hand  alone.  A  curious  instance  of  this  occurs  in 
his  buying  off  from  the  gathering  opposition  Sir  John  Saville.  While 
oth(!rs  were  sent  to  prison,  or,  which  was  but  little  better,  to  Ireland,  Sii 
John,  whose  opposition  had  been  eager  and  spirited,  made  his  talent  so 
much  feared,  that  the  king  made  him  comptroller  of  the  household,  a  privy 
councillor,  and  a  baron.  If  his  successor  could  but  have  been  induced 
to  ponder  this  fact,  and  to  take  it  in  conjunction  with  the  nature  of  man- 
kind, how  much  misery  had  been  spared  to  himself  and  his  people,  and 
how  many  a  name  that  has  come  down  to  us  in  conjunction  with  tne  most 
exalted  patriotism,  forsooth !  would  be  forgotten  in  the  lordly  titles  be- 
stowed upon  parliamentary  usefulness ! 

A.  i>.  1622.— Whatever  nitention  James  might  have  professed  of  going 
to  war  on  behalf  of  his  son-in-law,  his  real  intention  was  to  secure  the 
friendship  of  Spain,  and  thus  secure  the  accomplishment  of  his  own  and 
the  nation's  wishes  by  marrying  his  son.  Prince  Charles,  to  the  Spaniard's 
sister.  Upon  this  marriage,  besides  his  lookinp^  upon  it  as  a  master-Htroke 
of  policy,  he  was  passionately  bent,  as  a  matter  of  personal  feeling,  as  he 
deemed  no  one  below  a  princess  of  Spain  or  France  a  fitting  match  for  his 
son. 

The  war  between  the  emperor  and  the  palatine  was  still  vigorously 
kept  up,  the  latter  prince,  in  spite  of  all  his  misfortunes  making  the  most 
heroic  exertions.  The  details  of  this  war  will  be  found  in  their  proper 
place.  Here  it  suffices  to  say,  that  though  James  greatly  aided  his  gallant 
■on-in-law  with  money,  he  did  him  almost  equal  injury  by  his  negotiations, 
which  every  one  saw  through,  and  of  course  treated  with  disrespect  pro- 
portioned to  their  knowledge  that  they  originated  in  the  most  intense 
political  prudence,  carried  to  the  very  verge  of  actual  cowardice.  This 
excessive  caution  of  the  king,  and  his  equally  excessive  addiction  to  per- 
petual negotiation  always  ending  in  nothing,  was  made  the  subject  of 
much  merriment  on  the  continent.  At  Brussels  a  farce  was  acted,  in  the 
course  of  which  a  messenger  was  made  to  announce  the  sad  news  that 
the  palatinate  was  at  length  on  the  eve  of  being  wrested  from  the  house 
of  Austria.  Nothing,  the  messenger  said,  could  resist  the  aid  which 
Frederick  was  now  about  to  receive ;  the  king  of  Denmark  having 
agreed  to  send  him  a  hundred  thousand  pickled  herrings,  the  Dutch  a  hun- 
dred thousand  butter-boxes,  and  the  king  of  England — a  hunt^red  thousand 
dispatches ! 

But  though  James  was  in  reality  somewhat  ridiculously  profuse  -n  hi? 
efforts  to  "  negotiate"  the  duke  of  Bavaria  into  restoring  the  palatinate,  he 
really  was  resting  his  main  hope  upon  the  Spanish  match. 

Digby,  afterwards  earl  of  Bristol,  was  sent  to  Madrid  to  endeavour  to 
hasten  the  negotiation,  which,  with  more  or  less  earnestness,  had  now 
been  carried  on  for  five  years.  The  princess  being  a  catholic,  a  dispen- 
sation from  the  pope  was  necessary  for  the  marriage  ;  and  as  various  mo- 
fives  of  policy  made  Spain  anxious  to  avoid  a  total  and  instant  breach 


THE  TREASURY  OF  III8TORY. 

With  .Tames,  ttiis  oirciimstHncc  wai  dHxterously  turned  to  iidvtntage. 
Spain  undertook  to  prtx'ure  the  ditpenaiitioii,  and  thus  posRcsied  the  pow- 
er of  retarding  the  marriHffc  indeRnitoly  or  or  concluding  it  at  any  nioimniti 
(hould  circumstanceH  render  that  course  advisable.  Suspecting  at  least 
a  part  of  the  decoplion  that  was  pra<'tiNed  upon  him,  James,  wliile  he  sent 
Digby  publicly  to  Spain,  secretly  sent  Sage  to  Rome  to  watch  and  rep«)rt 
the  state  of  afrairs  and  feeling  there.  Learning  from  that  agent  that  the 
chief  difficulty,  as  far  as  Ftome  was  concerned,  was  the  dilference  of  re- 
ligion, he  immediately  discharged  all  popish  rescusants  who  were  in  cus- 
tody. By  this  measure  he  hoped  to  propitiate  Home,  to  his  own  subjecta 
he  slated  his  reason  for  resorting  to  it  to  be— his  desire  to  urge  it  as  an 
argument  in  support  of  the  application  ho  was  continually  making  to  for- 
eign princes  for  a  more  indulgent  treatment  of  their  protestant  sui)jects. 

Digby,  now  earl  of  Bristol,  was  incessant  in  his  exertions,  and  scema 
to  have  been  minutely  informed  of  the  real  intentions  and  feelings  of 
Spain;  and  the  result  of  his  anxious  and  well-directed  inquiries  was  his 
informing  James  that  there  was  no  doubt  that  the  princess  would  shortly 
bestow  her  hand  upon  his  son,  and  that  her  portion  would  be  the  then 
enormous  sum  of  eight  hundred  thousand  pounds  sterling.  Plea.scd  as 
James  was  with  the  news  as  regarded  the  anticipated  marriage,  lie  was 
enraptured  when  he  considered  it  in  conjunction  with  the  restoration  of 
the  palatinate,  which  undoubtedly  would  instantly  follow.  Nothing  now 
remained  but  to  procure  the  dispensation  from  Rome;  and  that,  supposing, 
as  seems  to  have  been  the  case,  that  Spain  was  sincere,  was  not  likely  to 
be  long  delayed  when  earnestly  solicited  by  Spain— when  all  Jrimes' 
hopes  were  shipwrecked  and  his  finely-drawn  webs  scattered  to  the  winds 
by  Buckingham.  Did  a  prince  ever  fail  to  rue  the  folly  of  making  an  up- 
iitart  too  great  for  even  his  master's  control ! 

A.  D.  1623. — It  would  have  been  comparatively  a  small  mischief  had  the 
king  made  Buckingham  merely  an  opulent  duke,  had  he  not  also  made 
him,  practically,  his  chief  minister.  Accomplished,  showy,  and  plausible, 
he  was,  however,  totally  destitute  of  the  solid  talents  necessary  to  the 
statesman,  and  was  of  so  vindictive  as  well  as  impetuous  a  nature,  that 
he  would  willingly  have  plunged  the  nation  into  the  most  destructive  war 
for  the  sake  of  avenging  a  personal  injury  or  ruining  a  personal  enemy. 
Importunate  and  tyrannical  even  with  the  king  himself,  he  was  absolute, 
arropfant,  and  insulting  to  all  others ;  and  he  had  even  insulted  the  prince 
of  Wales.  But  as  the  king  grew  old,  and  evidently  was  fast  sinking, 
Buckingham  became  anxious  to  repair  his  past  error,  and  to  connect  him- 
self in  such  wise  with  Charles,  while  still  only  prince  of  Wales,  as  to  con- 
tinue to  be  the  chief  minion  at  court  when  the  prince  should  have  expand- 
ed into  the  king. 

Perceiving  that  the  prince  of  Wales  was  greatly  annoyed  by  the  long 
and  seemingly  interminable  delays  that  had  taken  place  in  bringing  about 
the  Spanish  match,  Buckingham  resolved  to  make  that  circumstance  ser- 
viceable to  his  views.  Accordingly,  though  the  prince  had  recently  shown 
a  decided  coolness  towards  the  overgrown  favourite,  Buckingham  ap- 
proached his  royal  highness,  and  in  his  most  insinuating  manner — and 
no  one  could  be  more  insinuating  or  supple  than  Buckingham  when  he 
had  an  object  in  view — professed  a  great  desire  to  be  serviceable.  He 
descanted  long  and  well  upon  the  unhappy  lot  of  princes  in  general  in  the 
important  article  of  marriage,  in  which  both  husband  and  wife  were  usual- 
ly the  victims  of  mere  state  policy,  and  strangers  even  to  each  other's  per- 
sons until  they  met  at  the  altar.  From  these  undeniable  premises  he 
passed  to  the  conclusion,  so  well  calculated  to  inflame  a  young  and  en- 
thusiastic man,  that,  for  the  sake  both  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  his 
future  wife,  and  of  hastening  the  settlement  of  the  affair  by  interesting 
her  feelings  in  behalf  alike  of  his  gallantry  and  of  his  personal  accomplish- 


584 


THE  TRBA0UUY  OW  IlIBTOHY. 


monta,  Cnarlcs  wouH  act  wisely  by  going  ineo/fnito  to  the  Spanish  conrt. 
A  step  80  unununi  and  mo  trusting  could  not  fiiil  to  (latter  the  Spaniali  pniln 
of  Philip  and  his  court,  while,  us  scuming  to  proceed  from  ni«  p>tMiiion< 
at«)  nngfrnRBS  to  nee  hnr,  the  inraiita  hiTHcTf  niuNt  inevitably  be  dolii;|itrij. 
Charleg,  afterwards  HO  grnve  and  bo  melancholy— uIuk!  good  prince, 
how  much  hn  hnd  to  make  him  so!— waH  then  young,  ingenuous,  and  ro- 
mantic. He  fell  at  onco  into  Duekingham's  viowM,  and,  taking  iidvantagfl 
of  an  hour  of  unusual  goi»d  humour,  they  au  earneatly  importuncil  (up 
king  that  he  gave  his  consent  to  the  scheme.  Subsequently  hn  ^^^u,ll<^t,\ 
his  mind  ;  cool  reflection  enabled  him  to  sou  some  good  reasons  a((;uiiRt 
the  proposed  expedition,  and  hit  natural  timidity  and  auapicion  no  duubt 
suggested  still  more  than  had  any  such  solid  foundation.  But  ho  wq« 
'igiiin  importuned  by  the  prince  with  earneatneas,  and  by  the  duke  with 
that  tyrannous  inaolcnce  which  he  well  knew  when  to  uao  and  when  to 
abstain  from,  and  again  the  king  consented. 

Endyniion  Porter,  gentleman  of  the  prince'a  chamber,  -and  Sir  Francix 
Cottington  were  to  be  the  only  attendants  of  the  prince  and  duke,  except 
their  mere  grooms  and  valets.  To  Sir  Francis  Cottington  the  king  cum. 
mUiiicated  the  scheme  in  the  duke's  presence,  and  asked  his  opiniuii  of  it. 
The  scene  that  followed  is  so  graphically  characteristic  of  the  terms  upon 
which  the  duke  lived  with  his  benefactor  and  sovereign,  that  we  transcribe 
It  in  full  from  the  pages  of  Hume. 

*' Jamea  told  Cottington  that  ho  had  always  been  an  honest  man,  and, 
therefore,  he  was  now  about  to  trust  him  with  an  affair  of  the  higlioni  im- 
poj-Xance,  which  ho  was  not,  upon  his  life,  to  disclose  to  any  man  what- 
ever. *  Cottington,'  added  he,  *  here  is  Baby  Charles,  Dog  ,Stce?iie  (the«(> 
ridiculous  appellations  he  usually  ^ave  to  the  prince  and  Buckingham), 
who  have  a  great  mind  to  go  past  mto  Spain  and  fetch  home  the  infanta. 
They  will  have  but  two  more  in  their  company,  and  they  have  chosen  you 
for  one.  What  think  you  of  the  journey  V  Sir  Francis,  who  was  a  pru 
dent  man,  and  had  resided  some  years  in  Spain  as  the  king's  agent,  wus 
struck  with  all  the  obvious  objections  to  such  an  enterprise,  and  scrupled 
not  to  declare  them.  Tlie  king  threw  himself  upon  his  bed  and  cried,  'I 
told  you  all  this  before,'  and  fell  into  a  new  passion  and  new  lamentations, 
complaining  that  he  was  undu.iL  and  should  lusc  Baby  Charles. 

"The  prince  showed  by  ins  countenance  that  he  was  extremely  dis- 
satisfied with  Cottington's  discourse,  but  Buckingham  broke  into  an  open 
passion  against  him.  The  king,  he  told  him,  had  asked  him  only  of  the 
journey,  and  of  the  manner  of  travelling,  particulars  of  which  he  might  be 
a  competent  judge,  having  gone  the  road  so  often  by  post;  but  tliat  he, 
without  being  called  to  it,  had  the  presumption  to  give  his  advice  upon 
matters  of  state  and  against  the  prince,  which  he  should  repent  as  long  as 
he  lived. 

"  A  thousand  other  reproaches  he  added  which  put  the  poor  king  into  a 
new  agony  on  behalf  of  a  servant  who,  he  foresaw,  would  suffer  for 
answering  him  honestly,  upon  which  he  said,  with  some  emotion,  "Nay, 
by  God,  Steenie,  you  are  much  to  blame  for  using  him  so.  He  answered 
me  directly  to  the  question  which  I  asked  him,  am!  very  honestly  and 
wisely;  and  yet  you  know  h^;  said  no  more  than  I  .."IJ  you  before  he  was 
calledf  in.*  However,  after  all  this  passion  on  bot^i  rAdt'^.  '  m.  "s  renewed 
his  consent,  and  proper  directions  were  given  fo;  'tf  i)n.iK  .  Nor  was 
he  at  any  loss  to  discover  that  the  whole  intrigue  waa  originally  contrived 
by  Buckingham,  as  well  as  pursued  violently  by  his  spirit  and  impetuosity." 

The  prince  and  Buckingham,  with  their  attendants,  passed  through 
France ;  and  so  well  were  they  disguised  that  they  even  ventured  to  look 
•n  at  a  « ourt  ball  at  Paris,  where  the  prince  saw  the  princess  Henrietta, 
m>    Uerwards  unfortunate  and  heroically  attached  queen. 

iti  tier.  1  days    iicy  ar^'ved  ••  Madrid,  where  they  threw  off  their  dis 


TIIR  TKEA8UUY  Or  HIMTOHY. 


onrt. 

{>ntl« 

iHion* 

hteii. 

riiu-e, 

w\  ro* 

'il  Die 

doubt 
11!  was 
(!  with 
hen  to 

Francin 
except 
ig  cum> 
un  of  it. 
ins  upon 
iinscribe 

lan,  and, 
;bet;i  im- 
m  what- 
lie  ^lhese 
mgham), 
B  infanta, 
losen  you 
i/as  a  pru- 
gent,  was 

scrupled 

cried,  '  I 
entalions, 

jmely  dis. 
0  an  open 
nly  of  the 
e  might  be 
lit  that  he, 
Wice  upon 
as  long  as 

<ing  into  a 
suffer  for 
Ion,  "Nay, 
B  answered 
^nestly  and 
fore  he  waa 
>s  reneweil 
.     IS'jr  was 
ly  contrived 
Ipetuosily." 
led  through 
ired  to  look 
Henrietm, 

Iff  their  difi 


M5 


l«iMi  and  were  received  with  ilu  'i  moRt  rnrdiaiity.  The  highest  hunoiin 
were  paid  tu  Charlen.  The  kiciir  m  '  !e  hitii  u  vimt  of  welcome,  conlinlly 
thanked  him  fur  a  step  which,  iiniisiial  mx  it  wun  anioiiff  prineea,  unly  tiie 
more  foroihiy  proved  the  coiifKlrni  ■  he  had  in  S|i;uii»h  noin»ur — uavf  hiin 
a  Kuld  piiRBuurt  key  that  he  niigi  '  'sit  at  all  luur*.  and  ordiTed  the 
council  to  oney  him  even  hb  i\u-  king  liirn«elf.  An  nu-ident  whl«h  in 
KiikI^iikI  woiiI(I  be  trivial,  but  whi  )i  in  Spani.  ,  haughty  and  peitiiiacioua 
of  I'tiqucltc,  was  of  the  utinoHt  ihitjurlitiicc,  will  at  uiir''  show  the  temper 
ill  which  the  Spaniiirds  rcRponded  to  the  youthful  and  galiant  •ouAdence 
of  (Miarlca.  Olivarez,  u  grandee  of  Spain-  »  haughtier  race  far  ih»iii  any 
king,  out  of  Spain — though  he  had  the  right  lo  remain  covered  in  tin  pre- 
sence of  his  own  sovereign,  invariably  took  ofT  his  hut  in  presence  of  the 
prince  of  Wales! 

ThiK  fa^  in  point  of  fact,  whatever  obvious  objections  there  might  \k^ 
t )  Mitc^  ingham*8  scheme,  it  had  been  really  succensful;  the  pride  and  tlie 
i'liii  spiiitof  honour  of  the  Spaniard  had  been  touched  precisely  as  h« 
iiiiiii  i[i:ii(.u.  But  if  he  had  done  good  by  accident,  he  was  speedily  to  uiulo 
II  by  hib  selfish  wilfulness. 

Instead  of  tukin^f  any  advantage  of  the  generous  confidence  of  the  prince, 
ttie  Spaniards  gave  way  upon  some  points  which  otherwise  they  most  pro- 
bahly  would  have  insisted  upon.  The  pope,  indeed,  took  some  advantage 
of  the  princtN  position,  by  adding  some  more  stringent  religi>ous  coudi- 
tidiis  to  the  dupcnsation;  but,  on  the  whole,  the  visit  of  the  prince  had 
done  good,  and  the  dispensation  was  actually  granted  and  prepare),  for 
delivery  when  Gregory  XV.  died.  Urban  VllL,  who  succeeded  r  im, 
anxious  once  more  to  see  a  catholic  kii.g  in  England,  and  juduing  fuim 
Charles*  romantic  expedition  that  love  and  impatience  would  prohahly 
work  his  conversion,  found  some  pretexts  for  delaying  the  delivery  of  me 
dispensation,  and  the  natural  impatience  of  Charles  was  goaded  into 
downright  anger  by  the  artful  insinuations  of  Buckingham,  who  afrccte>J 
to  feel  certain  that  Spain  had  been  insincere  from  the  very  first.  Charle»» 
at  length  grew  so  dissatisfied  that  he  asked  permission  to  return  home, 
and  asked  it  in  such  evident  ill-humour,  that  Philip  at  once  granted  it 
without  even  the  afTectation  of  a  desire  for  any  prolongation  of  the  visit. 
But  the  princes  parted  with  all  external  friendship,  and  Philip  had  a  monu- 
iiient  erected  on  the  spot  at  which  they  bade  each  other  adieu. 

That  the  craft  of  Urban  would  speedily  have  given  way  before  the 
united  influences  of  James  and  Philip  there  can  be  no  doubt,  and  as  little 
can  there  be  of  the  loyal  sincerity  of  the  Spaniard.  Why  then  should 
Buckiufjhnm,  it  may  he  asked,  overset  when  so  near  its  completion  the 

Eroject  he  had  so  greatly  exerted  himself  to  advance  1  We  have  seen  that 
is  object  in  suggesting  the  journey  to  the  prince  was  one  of  purely  selfish 
policy.  He  then  was  selfish  with  respect  to  future  benefit  to  himself.  His 
sowing  discord  between  Charles  and  the  Spaniard  was  equally  a  selfish 
procedure.  His  dissolute  and  airy  manners  disgusted  that  grave  court, 
and  his  propensit\  to  debauchery  disgusted  that  sober  people.  He  in- 
suTted  the  pride  o(  their  proud  nobility  in  the  person  of  01ivarez,the  almost 
omnipotent  prime  minister  of  Spain  :  and  when  by  all  these  means  he  had 
worn  out  his  welcome  in  Spain,  and  perceived  that  even  respect  to  th  • 

Erince  could  not  induce  tlie  Spaniards  to  endure  himself,  he  resolved  to 
reak  off  the  amity  between  the  prince  and  Philip,  and  succeeded  as  we 
have  seen.  When  Buckingham  was  taking  leave  of  Spain  he  had  the 
wanton  insolence  to  say  to  the  proud  Olivarez,  "  With  regard  to  you,  sir, 
in  particular,  you  must  not  consider  me  as  your  friend,  but  must  ever  ex- 
pect from  me  all  possible  enmity  and  opposition."  To  this  insolent 
speech,  the  grandee,  with  calm  greatness,  merely  replied  that  he  very 
wiUingly  accepted  tlu  offer  of  enmity  so  obligingly  made. 
On  their  r^tura  to  Kugland  both  Charles  and  Buckingham  used  all  their 


566 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


influence  with  the  kiiitr  to  get  him  to  break  off  all  further  negotiating  the 
Spanish  match,  Charles  being  actuated  by  a  real  though  erroneous  belief 
of  the  insincerity  of  the  Spaniard,  and  Buckingham,  by  a  consciousness 
that  he  could  expect  nothing  but  ruin  should  the  infanta,  after  being  stuug 
by  so  much  insult  shown  to  herself  and  her  country,  become  queen  of 
Fftigland.  In  want  of  money,  and  looking  upon  the  Spanish  match  as  a 
Bure  means  by  which  to  get  the  palatinate  restored  without  going  to  war, 
James  was  not  easily  persuaded  to  give  up  all  thought  of  a  match  he  had 
had  so  much  at  heart  and  had  brought  so  near  to  a  conclusion.  But  the 
influence  of  Buckingham  was  omnipotent  in  parliament,  and  his  insolence 
irresistible  by  the  king;  the  Spanish  match  was  dropped,  enmity  to  the 
house  of  Austria  was  henceforth  to  be  the  principle  of  English  policy,  and 
a  war  was  to  be  resorted  to  for  the  restoration  of  the  palatinate.  It  wag 
in  vain  that  the  Spanish  ambassador  endeavoured  to  open  James'  eyes. 
The  deluded  monarch  was  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  haughty  duke,  and 
moreover,  from  growing  physical  debility,  was  daily  growing  less  fit  to 
endure  scenes  of  violent  disputation. 

The  earl  of  Bristol,  who  throughout  this  strange  and  protracted  affair 
had  acted  the  part  of  both  an  honest  and  an  able  minister,  would  most 
probably  have  made  such  representations  in  parliament  as  would  have 
overcome  even  Buckingham;  but  he  had  scarcely  landed  in  England,  ere, 
by  the  favourite's  influence,  he  was  arrested  and  carried  to  the  Tower. 
The  king  was  satisfied  in  his  heart  that  the  minister  was  an  honest  and  an 
injured  man ;  but  though  he  speedily  released  him  from  the  Tower,  Buck- 
ingham only  suffered  him  thus  far  to  undo  his  involuntary  injustice  on 
condition  that  Bristol  should  retire  to  the  country  and  abstain  from  all 
attendance  on  parliament ! 

From  Spain  the  prince  turned  to  France  in  search  of  a  bride.  He  had 
been  much  struck  by  the  loveliness  of  the  princess  Henrietta,  and  he  now- 
demanded  her  hand  ;  negotiations  were  accordingly  immediately  entered 
into  on  the  same  ternns  previously  granted  to  Spain,  though  the  princess 
could  bring  no  dowry  like  that  of  the  infanta. 

James,  in  the  meantime,  found  himself,  while  fast  sinking  into  the  grave, 
plunged  into  that  warlike  course  which  during  his  whole  life  he  had  so 
sedulously,  and  at  so  many  sacrifices  of  dignity  and  even  of  pretty  certain 
advantage,  avoided. 

The  palatinate,  lying  in  the  very  midst  of  Germany,  possessed  by  the 
emperor  and  the  duke  of  Bavaria,  and  only  to  be  approached  by  an  English 
army  through  other  powerful  enemies,  was  obviously  to  be  retaken  by 
force  only  at  great  risks  and  sacrifices.  But  the  counsels  of  Buckingham 
urged  James  onward.  Count  de  Mansfeldt  and  his  army  were  subsidized, 
and  an  English  army  of  two  hundred  horse  and  twelve  thousand  foot  was 
raised  by  impressment.  A  free  passage  was  promised  by  France,  bul 
when  the  army  arrived  at  Calais  it  was  discovered  that  no  formal  orders 
had  been  received  for  its  admission,  and  after  vainly  waiting  for  such 
orders  until  they  actually  began  to  want  provisions,  the  commanders  of 
the  expedition  steered  for  Zealand.  Here,  again,  no  proper  arrangements 
had  been  made  for  the  disembarkation  ;  a  sort  of  plague  broke  out  among 
the  men  from  short  allowances  and  long  confinement  in  the  close  vessels, 
nearly  one  half  of  the  troops  died,  and  Mansfeldt  very  rightly  deemtd  the 
remainder  too  small  a  force  for  so  mighty  an  attempt  as  that  of  the  re- 
conquest  of  the  palatinate. 

A.  D.  1625.— Long  infirm,  the  king  had  been  so  much  harrassed  of  late 
by  the  mere  necessity  of  looking  war  in  the  face,  that  this  awful  loss  of 
life  and  the  complete  failure  of  the  hopes  he  had  been  persuaded  to  rest 
•apon  the  expedition,  threw  him  into  a  tertian  ague.  From  the  first  atliick 
lie  felt  that  his  days  were  numbered ;  for  when  told,  in  tlie  old  Engiisli 
»da?e,  that 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HiaTOHT. 

"  An  Bgpie  in  spring, 
Ii  health  to  a  king," 


567 


he  replied,  wilh  something  of  his  old  quaintncss — "  Hoot  mon '    Ye  forget 
it  means  a  young  king." 

He  was  right.  Every  successive  fit  left  him  still  weaker,  till  he  sank 
into  the  arms  of  death,  on  the  27th  March,  1625,  in  the  fifty-ninth  year  o( 
Ills  age,  the  fifty-eighth  of  his  reign  over  Scotland,  and  the  twenty-third  of 
his  reign  over  England. 

Few  kings  have  been  less  personally  dignified,  or  less  personally  or 
royally  vicious  than  James.  As  a  husband,  a  father,  a  friend,  master,  and 
patron,  he  was  unexceptionable  save  upon  the  one  point  of  excessive 
facility  and  good  nature.  As  a  private  man  he  would  have  been  prized 
the  more  on  account  of  this  amiable  though  weak  trait  of  character.  But 
as  a  king  it  weakened  him  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and  would  assuredly 
have  conducted  him  to  the  scafi"old,  had  puritans  been  as  far  advanced  in 
their  fanatic  and  mischievous  temper,  and  in  their  political  and  misused 
power,  as  they  were  during  the  reign  of  his  more  admirable  but  less  for 
tunate  son. 


CHAPTEP.  L. 

THE    RGION   OF   CBARLES    I. 

A.  D.  1625.— The  singular  submissivenass  with  which  James  had  been 
obeyed,  even  when  his  principles  and  practices  were  the  most  exorbitantly 
arbitrary,  was  well  calculated  to  mi.«lead  his  son  and  successor  Charles  I. 
into  a  very  fatal  mistake  as  to  the  real  temper  and  inclination  of  his  people. 
Authority  had  not  as  yet  ceased  to  be  obeyed,  but  it  had  for  some  time 
ceased  to  be  respected.  Even  as  early  as  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  a  sturdy 
and  bitter  spirit  of  puritanism  had  began  to  possess  considerable  infiuence 
both  in  parliament  and  among  the  people  at  large,  and  that  spirit  had 
vastly  increased  during  the  long  reign  of  James  1.,  whose  familiar  man- 
ners and  uiidignified  character  were  so  ill  calculated  to  support  his  claim 
to  an  almost  eastern  submission  on  the  part  of  subjects  towards  their 
anointed  sovereign. 

But  the  real  temper  of  the  people  was,  as  it  seems  to  us,  totally  misun- 
derstood both  by  Charles  I.  and  his  councillors.  Charles  had  imbibed 
very  much  of  his  father's  extravagant  notion  of  the  extent  of  the  royal 
prerogative ;  and  while  the  bitter  puritans  were  ready  to  carry  out  their 
fanatical  feelings  to  the  extent  of  crushing  alike  the  throne  and  the  church, 
the  king  commenced  his  reign  by  the  exaction  of  a  benevolence,  an  arbi- 
trary mode  of  raising  money  which  had  been  denounced  long  before. 
The  pecuniary  situation  of  the  king  was,  in  fact,  such  as  ought  to  have  ex- 
cited the  sympathy  and  liberality  of  his  subjects,  and  even  the  unconstitu- 
tional and  arbitrary  conduct  of  the  king  in  issuing  privy  seals  for  a  benev- 
olence must  not  blind  us  to  the  cause  of  that  conduct.  In  the  reign  of 
James,  as  we  have  seen,  the  cause  of  the  prince  palatine  was  unreasonably 

opular,  and  England  had  entered  into  a  treaty  to  keep  up  the  war  on  be- 

alf  of  that  prince.  Bound  by  that  treaty,  Charles  appealed  to  his  parlia- 
ment, which  gave  him  only  two  subsidies,  though  well  aware  that  sum 
would  be  quite  unequal  to  the  military  demonstrations  which  both  the  cause 
of  his  brother-in-law  and  the  credit  of  the  English  nation  required  at  his 
hands. 

An  inefficient  expedition  to  Cadiz  plainly  showed  that,  even  with  the 
aid  of  the  forced  benevolence,  the  king  was  very  insufficiently  supplied  with 
money,  and  a  new  parliament  was  called.    Warned  by  the  experience  he 


I 


568 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


now  !iad,  the  king  exerted  himself  to  exclude  the  more  obstinate  and  able 
of  the  opposition  members  from  the  new  parliament.  Something  like 
what  in  later  times  has  been  called  the  management  of  parliament  had  al. 
ready  been  tried  in  the  reign  of  James.  But  the  chief  step  now  taken  was 
arbitrarily  to  name  the  popular  members  of  the  late  parliament  sheriffs  of 
counties,  by  which  means  they  were  effectually  excluded  from  sitting  in 
the  new  parliament.  But  the  puritanical  spirit  was  too  widely  spread, 
and,  while  the  expedient  of  the  king  aggravated  the  excluded  and  their 
friends,  the  members  who  were  returned  proved  to  be  quite  as  obstinate 
and  unreasonable  as  their  predecessors.  The  king  and  his  friends  and 
advisers  fairly  stated  to  parliament  the  great  and  urgent  necessity  of  tlie 
crown ;  but  in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  those  necessities  were  in  a  great 
measure  created  by  the  former  enthusiasm  of  parliament  and  the  people 
in  favour  of  the  palatine,  the  new  parliament  would  only  grant  three  sub- 
sidies, or  something  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  a  sum  really 
paltry  as  compared  to  the  king^s  need.  It  cannot  be  too  emphatically  im- 
pressed upon  the  reader,  that  here,  at  the  very  outset  of  the  king's  reign, 
the  foundation  of  all  its  subsequent  troubles  was  laid.  Measures  over 
which  the  king  had  had  no  control  made  a  vigorous  and  offensive  course 
of  action  imperative  upon  him ;  but  the  parliament,  while  looking  to  him 
J.vr  that  course,  doled  out  the  sinews  of  war  with  a  paltry  and  inefficieni 
spirit,  that  left  the  king  no  choice  save  that  between  disgrace  abroad  or 
arbitrary  conduct  at  home.  Charles,  unfortunately,  looked  rather  at  the 
abstract  nature  and  privileges  of  his  royalty  than  at  the  power  and  fierce- 
ness of  real  popular  feeling  which  he  had  to  combat  or  to  elude.  He 
openly  authorized  commissioners  to  sell  to  the  catholics  a  dispensation 
from  all  the  penal  laws  especially  enacted  against  them ;  he  borrowed 
large  sums  of  money  from  the  nobility,  many  of  whom  lent  them  with 
great  reluctance;  and  he  levied  upon  London,  and  upon  other  large  towns, 
considerable  sums,  under  the  name  of  ship-money,  for  the  equipment  and 
support  of  a  fleet.  Wholly  to  justify  this  conduct  of  the  king  is  no  part 
of  our  business  or  desire ;  but  again,  and  emphatically,  we  say,  that  the 
chief  blame  is  due  to  the  niggardly  and  unpatriotic  conduct  of  the  parlia- 
ment ;  an  unjust  extortion  was  the  natural  and  inevitable  result  of  a  no 
less  unjust  and  unprincipled  parsimony. 

War  being  declared  against  France,  the  haughty  Buckingham,  who  was 
as  high  in  favour  with  the  dignified  and  refined  Charles  as  he  had  been 
with  the  plain  and  coarse  James,  was  intrusted  with  an  expedition  for  the 
relief  of  Rochelle,  which  at  that  time  was  garrisoned  by  the  oppressed 
protestants  and  besieged  by  a  formidable  army  of  the  opposite  persuasion. 
Buckingham's  talents  were  by  no  means  equal  to  his  power  and  ambition. 
He  took  not  even  the  simplest  precaution  for  securing  the  concert  of  the 
garrison  that  he  was  sent  to  relieve,  and  on  his  arrival  before  Rochelle  he 
'Was  refused  admittance,  the  beseiged  very  naturally  suspecting  the  sin- 
cerity of  a  commander  who  had  sent  no  notice  of  his  intention  to  aid  them. 
This  blunder  was  immediately  followed  up  by  another  no  less  glaring  and 
capital.  Denied  admittance  to  Rochelle,  he  disregarded  the  island  of  Ole- 
ron,  which  was  too  weak  to  have  resisted  him  and  abundantly  well  pro- 
vided to  have  subsisted  his  force,  and  sailed  for  the  isle  of  Rhe,  which  was 
strongly  fortified  and  held  by  a  powerful  and  well- provisioned  garrison. 
He  sat  down  before  the  castle  of  St.  Martin's  with  the  avowed  intention 
of  starving  the  garrison  into  submission;  but  abundant  provisions  were 
thrown  into  the  fortress  by  sea,  and  tlie  French  effected  a  landing  in  a 
distant  part  of  the  island.  All  that  mere  courage  could  do  was  now  done 
by  Buckingham,  who,  however,  lost  nearly  two-thirds  of  his  army,  and 
was  obliged  to  make  a  hurried  retreat  with  the  remainder.  His  friends, 
quite  truly,  claimed  for  him  the  praise  of  personal  courage,  he  having 
been  the  very  last  man  to  get  on  shipboard.    But  mere  courage  is  but  \ 


*^",^ 


Chaklks  1.  AND  Armor  Beareb. 


^■ 


■mal 

fate 

inghi 

woul 

flfth 

Th 

Mnts 

the  (i 

loudl; 

theyi 

hadb 

their  { 

called 

been 

theT 

circun 

grieva 

portjoi 

that  c( 

A.  0. 

memb( 
lion,.tl 
the  qu( 
nformi 
Phis  ii 
.hem. 
was  in 
and  thu 
conden 
sons  CO 
'lenoun 
This 
lowed  [ 
Hayma 
of  sedit 
sionate 
even  of 
prison 
punishn 
Hollis, 
of  the 
commoi 
the  hou 
latter  c( 
former, 
persons 
condem 
from  fiv 
their  ftit 
ill  effect 
otherwi 
populari 
cordial 
been  effi 
envenon 
duties 
him 
So  en 


w 


THB  TEEA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


569 


■mall  part  of  the  qualitv  of  a  great  general ;  probably  there  was  not  a  pri- 
fste  soldier  in  his  whole  force  who  was  not  personally  as  brave  as  Diick- 
inghain  himself— certainly  there  could  have  been  but  few  of  them  who 
would  have  failed  more  disastrously  and  disgracefully  in  the  main  objects 
of  the  expedition. 

The  failure  of  this  expedition  could  not  but  increase  the  mischievous 
Mnts  between  the  king  and  parliament.  The  latter,  without  considering 
the  dilemma  in  which  their  own  illiberal  conduct  had  placed  the  king, 
loudly  exclaimed  against  those  certainly  very  arbitrary  measures  to  which 
they  themselves  had  compelled  him.  Duties  called  tonnage  and  poundage 
had  been  levied,  and  for  refusal  to  pay  them  many  merchants  had  had 
their  property  seized  by  the  officers  of  the  customs.  The  parliament  now 
called  those  officers  to  account,  alledging  that  tonnage  and  poundage  had 
been  illegally  demanded,  and  the  sheriff  of  London  was  actually  sent  to 
the  Tower  for  having  officially  supported  the  king's  officers.  To  these 
circumstances  of  ill  feeling  the  more  zealous  puritans  added  religious 
grievances,  and  every  day  produced  some  new  proof  that  a  very  large  pro- 
portion of  the  nation  was  infected  with  a  feeling  of  intolerance  and  bigotry 
that  could  not  but  prove  ruinous  to  both  church  and  state. 

A.  D.  1629. — Alarmed  at  the  zeal  and  obstinacy  with  which  the  popular 
members  seemed  determined  to  prosecute  the  tonnage  and  poundage  ques- 
lion,.the  king  determined  at  least  to  postpone  the  discussion ;  andv^'hen 
ihe  question  was  brought  forward,  Sir  John  Finch,  the  speaker,  rose  and 
Yiformed  the  house  that  the  king  had  given  him  a  command  to  adjourn  it. 
This  intelligence,  instead  of  alarming  the  popular  members,  infuriated 
.hem.  Sir  John  Finch  was  forcibly  held  in  the  speaker's  chair,  which  he 
was  in  the  act  of  vacating,  by  two  members  named  Valentine  and  Hollis, 
and  thus  compelled  to  sanction  by  his  presence  a  short  resolution  which 
condemned  tonnage  and  poundage  as  being  contrary  to  law,  and  all  per- 
sons concerned  in  collecting  those  duties  as  guilty  of  high  crimes,  and 
Henounced  Arminians  and  papists  as  capital  enemies  to  the  state. 

This  scene  of  violence  and  passion  on  the  part  of  the  commons  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  king's  committal  to  prison  of  Sir  Miles  Hobart,  Sir  Peter 
Hayman,  the  learned  Selden,  with  Coriton,  Strode,  and  Lung,  on  charges 
of  sedition.  At  this  period  Charles  seems  to  have  acted  rather  upon  pas- 
sionate and  perplexed  impulse  than  upon  any  settled  and  defined  principle, 
even  of  a  despotic  character.  He  had  scarcely  sent  these  members  to 
prison  upon  his  own  authority,  when  he  set  them  free  again  without  further 
punishment.  To  other  members  he  was  just  as  inconsistently  severe. 
Hollis,  Valentine,  and  Sir  John  Elliot,  were  summoned  before  tae  court 
of  the  king's  bench  to  answer  for  their  violent  conduct  in  the  house  of 
commons.  They  pleaded,  and  it  should  seem  quite  reasonably,  too,  that 
the  house  of  commons  being  a  superior  court  to  the  king's  bench,  the 
latter  could  not  take  cognizance  of  an  alledged  offence  committed  in  the 
former.  The  judges,  however,  treated  this  plea  with  contempt ;  the  three 
persons  above  named  were  found  guilty  in  default  of  appearance  and 
condemned  to  be  imprieoned  during  the  king's  pleasure,  to  pay  fines  ol 
from  five  hundred  to  a  thousand  poun'ds  each,  and  to  give  security  foi 
their  future  conduct.  Thr  arbitrary  severity  of  this  sentence  had  a  doubly 
ill  effiect ;  it  exalted  in  the  public  mind  men  whose  own  rash  anger  would 
otherwise  have  been  their  most  efllicient  opponent,  and  it  added  to  the  un- 
popularity of  the  king  just  at  the  precise  moment  when  nothing  but  a 
cordial  and  friendly  expression  of  public  opinion  was  at  all  likely  to  have 
been  effectually  serviceable  to  him  in  his  contest  with  the  obstinate  and 
envenomed  party — men  who  denied  him  the  means  of  performing  those 
duties  which  the  popular  outcry  had  mainly  contributed  to  impose  upon 
him. 
So  entirely  had  Buckingham  obtained  the  ascendancy  over  the  mind  ol 


970 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


Charles,  that  the  favourite's  disgraceful  failure  in  the  Rochclle  expedition, 
though  it  caused  a  loud  and  general  indignation  in  the  nation,  did  nut  seem 
to  injure  him  with  the  king.  Another  expedition  for  the  relief  of  Ruchelle 
was  determined  upon,  and  the  command  was  bestowed  upon  Buckingham. 
His  brother-in-law,  the  earl  of  Denbigh,  had  failed  in  an  attempt  to  raise 
the  sie^e.  Buckingham,  naturally  anxious  to  wipe  off  the  disgrace  ot 
two  failures,  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  to  make  the  new  expedition 
under  his  own  command  a  successful  one.  To  this  end  he  went  to  Ports- 
mouth  and  personally  superintended  the  preparations.  He  was  at  thii 
moment  decidedly  the  most  unpopular  man  in  the  kingdom — denounced 
on  all  hands  as  the  betrayer  and  at  the  same  time  the  tyrant  of  both  king 
and  country.  The  libels  and  declamations  which  were  constantly  circu- 
lated found  a  ready  echo  in  the  breast  of  one  Felton,  an  Irish  soldier  of 
fortune.  By  nature  gloomy,  bigoted,  and  careless  of  his  own  life,  this 
man  had  been  rendered  desperate  by  what  appears  to  have  been  very  un. 

tust  treatment.  He  had  served  bravely  at  St.  RhI,  where  his  captain  was 
Lilled,  and  Buckingham,  whether  in  caprice  or  mere  indolence,  had  re- 
fused to  give  Lieutenant  Felton  the  vacant  place.  This  personal  injury 
aggravated  his  hatred  to  the  duke  as  a  public  enemy,  and  he  determined 
to  assassinate  him.  Having  traveled  to  Portsmouth,  this  resolute  and 
violent  man  contrived  to  approach  the  duke  as  he  was  giving  some  orders, 
and  struck  him  with  a  knife  over  the  shoulder  of  one  of  the  surrounding 
officers.  The  duke  had  only  strength  enough  to  say,  "the  villiaii  has 
killed  me,"  when  he  fell  dead  upon  the  spot.  In  the  confusion  that  en- 
sued the  assassin  might  easily  have  escaped,  for  the  blow  was  so  sudden 
that  no  one  saw  by  whom  it  was  struck.  But  the  assassin's  hat  had  fallen 
among  the  astounded  spectators  and  was  found  to  contain  some  of  the 
strongest  lines  of  a  very  violent  remonstrance  which  the  house  of  com- 
mons had  voted  against  the  duke's  conduct;  and  while  some  persons  were 
remarking  that  no  doubt  the  villain  must  be  near  at  hand,  and  would  be 
recognised  by  the  loss  of  his  hat,  Felton  deliberately  stepped  forward  and 
avowed  his  crime.  When  questioned  he  positively  denied  that  any  one 
had  instigated  him  to  the  murder  of  the  duke.  His  conscience,  he  said, 
was  his  only  adviser,  nor  could  any  man's  advice  cause  him  to  act  against 
his  conscience ;  he  looked  upon  the  duke  as  a  public  enemy,  and  therefore 
he  had  slain  him.  He  maintained  the  same  constancy  and  self-compla- 
cency to  the  last,  protesting  even  upon  the  scaffold  that  his  conscience 
acquitted  him  of  all  blame.  A  melancholy  instance  of  the  extent  to  which 
men  can  shut  their  eyes  to  their  own  wickedness  in  their  detestation  ol 
the  real  or  imputed  wickedness  of  others. 

A.  D.  1639. — Charles  received  the  tidings  of  the  assassination  of  his  fa- 
vourite and  minister  with  a  composure  which  led  some  persons  to  imag- 
ine that  the  duke's  death  was  not  wholly  disagreeable  to  the  too  indul- 
gent master  over  whom  he  had  so  long  and  so  unreasonably  exerted  his 
influence.  But  this  opinion  greatly  wronged  Charles ;  he,  as  a  man, 
wanted  not  sensibility,  but  he  possessed  to  a  remarkable  extent  the  val- 
uable power  of  controlling  and  concealing  his  feelings. 

The  first  consequence  of  the  cessation  of  the  pernicious  counsel  and 
influence  of  Buckingham  was  the  king's  wise  resolution  to  diminish  his 
need  of  the  aid  of  his  unfriendly  subjects,  by  concluding  peace  with  the 
foreign  foes  against  whom  he  had  warred  under  so  many  disadvantages 
and  with  so  little  glory.  Having  thus  freed  himself  from  the  heavy  and 
constant  drain  of  foreign  warfare,  the  king  selected  Sir  Thomas  Went- 
worth,  afterwards  earl  of  Strafford,  and  Laud,  efterwards  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  to  aid  him  in  the  task  of  regulating  the  internal  affairs  of  hii 
kingdom ;  a  task  which  the  king's  own  love  of  prerogative  and  the  ob- 
stinate ill-humour  and  disaffection  of  the  leading  puritans  rendered  al- 
most impracticable. 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


571 


Unfortunately,  Laud,  who  had  great  influence  over  Charles,  was  by  no 
means  inclined  to   moderate   his  propensity   to  arbitrary  rule.      Ton- 
nage and  poundage  were  still  levied  on  the  king's  sole  authority  ;  papists 
were  still  compounded  with  as  a  regular  means  of  aiding  the  king's  rey- 
enue;  ind  the  custom-house  officer.s  were  still  encouraged  and  protected 
in  the  most  arbitrary  measures  for  the  discovery  and  seizure  of  goods  al- 
iedged  to  be  liable  to  charge  with  the  obnoxious  and  illegal  duties.     These 
errors  of  the  king's  government  were  seized  upon  by  popular  declaimers, 
and  t)ie  violence  of  libellers  provoked  the  king  and  Laud  to  a  most  arbi- 
trary extension  of  the  always  too  extensive  powers  of  the  high  commis- 
sion and  star-chamber  courts,  the  sentences  of  which  upon  all  who  were 
anciised  of  opposing  the  government  were  truly  iniquitous,  and  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  degree  impolitic.     This  court,  though  really  authorised 
by  no  law,  inflicted  both  personal  and  pecuniary  severities,  which  to  us  • 
who  are  accustomed  to  the  regular  and  equitable  administration  of  law' 
cannot  but  be  revolting.     For  instance,  a  barrister  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  named 
Prynne,  a  man  of  considerable  talent,  though  of  a  factious  and  obstinate 
temper,  was  brought  before  this  arbitrary  court,  charged  with  having  at- 1 
tacked  and  abused  the  ceremonies  of  the  church  of  England.     Burton,  a  . 
divine,  and  Bastwick,  a  physician,  were  at  the  same  time  charged  with  a  • 
similar  offence ;  and  these  three  gentlemen  of  liberal  professions,  for  libels 
which  now,  if  punished  at  all,  would  surely  not  cost  their  authors  more 
than  two  months'  imprisonment,  were  condemned  to  be  placed  in  the  pil- 
lory, to  have  their  ears  cut  off,  and  to  pay  each  a  fine  of  five  thousand 
pounds  to  the  king. 

The  impolicy  of  this  and  similar  severe  sentences  was  the  greater,  be- 
cause there  were  but  too  many  indications  already  of  extensive  and  de- 
termined disaffection  to  the  crown.  Refused  the  really  requisite  pecu- 
niary assistance  by  his  parliament,  the  king  continued  to  levy  ship-money, 
and  against  this  tax  an  especial  and  determined  opposition  was  raised; 
though  it  ought  to  be  observed  that  it  had  often  been  levied  in  former 
reigns,  not  because  of  so  reasonable  a  motive  as  the  factious  refusal  of 
parliament  to  provide  for  the  necessities  of  the  state,  but  in  sheer  des- 
potic preference  on  the  part  of  sovereigns  to  act  on  their  own  will  rather 
than  on  that  of  parliament.  The  puritans  and  the  popular  leaders  in  gen- 
eral, however,  made  no  allowance  for  the  king's  really  urgent  and  dis- 
tressing situation. 

Among  the  most  determined  opponents  of  the  ship-money  was  Mr. 
John  Hampden,  a  gentleman  of  some  landed  property  in  the  county  of 
Buckingham.  The  moral  character  of  this  gentleman  was,  even  by 
those  whom  his  political  conduct  the  most  offended  or  injured,  admitted 
to  be  excellent;  but  his  very  excellence  as  a  private  man  served  only  to 
make  him  the  more  mischievous  as  a  public  leader.  If,  instead  of  lending 
himself  to  the  support  of  that  bitter  and  gloomy  party  whose  piety  not 
seldom  approached  to  an  impious  familiarity,  and  whose  love  of  liberty 
degenerated  into  a  licentiousness  quite  incompatible  with  good  govern- 
ment, John  Hampden  had  thrown  the  weight  of  his  own  high  character 
!nto  the  scale  against  the  insanity  of  genius  as  displayed  by  Vane,  and 
»he  insanity  of  hate  to  all  above  them  and  contempt  of  all  below  them 
which  was  manifested  by  nineteen-twentieths  of  the  puritan  or  republican 
army,  how  sternly,  how  justly,  and  how  efficiently  might  he  not  have  re- 
buked that  sordid  parliament  which  so  fiercely  and  capriciously  com- 
Eilained  of  the  king's  extortion,  while  actually  compelling  him  to  it  by  a 
ong  and  obstinate  parsimony,  as  injurious  to  the  people  as  it  was  insult- 
ing to  the  sovereign  !  But  he  took  the  opposite  course.  Being  rated  at 
twenty  shillings  for  his  Buckinghamshire  estate,  he  refused  payment,  and 
eause^  the  question  between  himself  and  the  crowji  to  be  carried  into  the 
exchequer  court.    For  twelve  days  the  ablest  lawye^rs  in  England  argued 


■^  .s 


171 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


<) 


(his  case  before  the  whole  of  the  judf^cs,  all  of  whom,  with  the  excep. 
tion  of  four,  decided  in  favour  of  the  king's  claim. 

Without  entering  into  the  intricacies  uf  legal  argumentation,  we  must 
briefly  remark,  that  all  the  writers  who  have  treated  of  this  celebrated 
case  appear  to  us  to  have  bestowed  very  undeserved  praise  upon  Hamp. 
den,  and  quite  to  have  misunderstood  or  misrepresented  the  case  as  be- 
tween  the  king  and  the  people  at  large.  Was  it  the  king's  duty  to  sup. 
port  the  peace  of  the  kingdom  and  the  dignity  of  the  crown  ?  By  gf 
much  as  he  might  have  fallen  short  of  doing  so,  by  so  much  would  he 
have  fallen  short  of  the  fulfilment  of  his  coronation  oath.  But  parlia- 
ment, the  power  of  which  was  comparatively  recent  and  in  itself  to  a 
very  considerable  extent  a  usurpation,  denied  him  the  necessary  supplies. 
An  odious  and  insolent  tyranny,  surely,  to  impose  responsibility,  yet  deny 
the  means  of  sustaining  it !  The  king,  then,  was  thus  driven,  insolently 
and  most  tyrannously  driven,  to  the  necessity  of  choosing  between  a 
crime  and  an  irregularity;  between  perjury,  violation  of  his  coronation 
oath,  and  a  direct  levy  uf  that  money  which  he  could  not  obtain  through 
the  indirect  and  constitutional  means  of  parliament. 

It  is  quite  idle  to  dwell  upon  the  irregularity  of  the  king's  mode  of  levy. 
ing  money  without  charging,  primarily,  that  irregularity  to  the  true  cause, 
the  shameful  niggardliness  of  parliament.  Then  the  question  between 
Charles  and  the  sturdy  patriot,  Hampden,  becomes  narrowed  to  this 
point — were  the  twenty  shillings  levied  upon  Hampden's  property  an  un- 
reasonable charge  for  the  defence  and  security  of  that  property}  No 
one,  we  should  imagine,  will  pretend  to  maintain  that,  and  therefore  the 
refusal  of  Hampden  to  pay  the  tax — unaccompanied  as  that  refusal  was 
by  a  protest  agamst  the  vile  conduct  of  parliament — evidenced  far  more 
of  the  craftiness  and  factious  spirit  of  his  party  than  of  the  sturdy  and 
single-minded  honesty  which  the  generality  of  writers  so  tenaciously  af- 
fiect  to  attribute  to  the  man. 

We  have  dwelt  the  longer  upon  the  pecuniary  disputes  between  Charles 
and  his  narrow-minded  parliament,  because  the  real  origin  of  all  the  sub- 
sequent disorders  was  the  wanton  refusal  of  the  parliament  to  provide  for 
the  legitimate  expenses  of  the  state.  Later  in  order  of  time  the  dis- 
putes became  complicated,  and  in  the  course  of  events  the  parliament  be- 
came better  justified  in  opposition,  and  the  king  both  less  justified  and 
less  moderate  ;  but  even  in  looking  at  those  sad  passages  in  English  his. 
tory  which  tell  us  of  royal  insincerity,  and  of  Englishmen  leagued  under 
opposing  banners,  and  upon  their  own  soil  spilling  each  other's  blood, 
never  let  the  reader  forget  that  the  first  positive  injustice,  the  first  provo- 
cation,  the  first  guilt,  belonged  to  parliament,  which  practised  tyranny 
and  injustice  while  exclaiming  aloud  for  liberty. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

THB   REIGN    OF   CHARLES   I.    {COntinited) . 

A.  D.  1640. — Though  there  was  a  most  bitter  spirit  existing  against  the 
church  of  England,  and  the  press  teemed  with  puritan  libels  as  vulgar  and 
silly  as  they  were  malicious,  Charles,  a  sincere  friend  to  the  church,  most 
unhappily  saw  not  the  storm-cloud  that  hovered  over  him.  Instead  oi 
concentrating  his  energies,  his  friends,  and  his  pecuniary  resources,  to 
elude  or  smite  down  the  gloomy  and  bitter  puritans  of  England,  and  to 
awaken  again  the  cheerful  and  loyal  spirit  of  his  English  yeomanry,  he 
most  unwisely  determined  to  introduce  episcopacy  into  Scotland.  Ar 
order  was  given  for  reading  the  liturgy  in  the  principal  church  of  Edin- 
burgh, which  80  provoked  the  congregation,  that  the  vsry  women  joined 


THK  TEEA8UEY  OP  HISTORY. 


679 


in  an  attack  on  the  offlciatinp^  minister,  and  the  place  of  pub  >  worship 
was  profaiied  by  furious  and  disjfusting  imprecations  Long  inured  to 
iictuiil  warfare  with  England,  and  always  jealous  o''  a  nation  so  much 
wealthier  and  more  powerful  than  themselves,  the  Scotch  gladly  seized 
upon  the  attempt  to  introduce  episcopacy  among  tncni  as  a  pretext  for 
having  recourse  to  arms,  and  the  whole  of  that  disaffected  and  warlike 
population  was  instantly  in  a  state  of  insurrection.  Even  now,  could  the 
king  have  been  induced  to  perceive  the  real  infe'eracy  and  determination 
of  the  Scottish  hatred  of  episcopacy,  he  m!gh;  have  escaped  from  this 
portion  of  his  embarrassments  with  but  little  worse  evi.  than  some  dimi- 
nution of  his  cherished  notion  of  the  abFolute  supremacy  of  anointed  sov- 
ereigns. A  negotiation  was  resorted  to,  and  a  treaty  of  peace  quickly 
succeeded  a  mere  suspension  of  arms,  each  party  agreeing  to  a  disband- 
oninent  of  their  forces.  Unhappilv,  neillior  party  was  quite  earnest  in 
desiring  peace ;  the  king  cou.d  not  give  up  his  long  cherished  ideas  of 
their  absolute  monarchy,  and  .he  rig'd  Scottish  prcsbyteriaiis  were  not  a 
jot  more  inclined  to  yield  up  any  portion  of  their  entire  freedom  and 
self-government  in  matters  of  re  igion.  The  negotiations  and  treaties 
were  in  consequence  marked  by  mutual  insincerity;  mutual  charges  of 
oad  faith  were  made,  and  both  Charles  and  his  Scottish  people  speedily 
resumed  their  hostile  attitude. 

The  dispute  in  which  the  king  had  thus  needlessly  and  unwisely  in- 
volved himself  seriously  increased   his  difficulties.      Although  he  still 
continued  to  levy  ship-money  and  other  arbitrary  taxes,  he  was  dread- 
fully distressed  for  money;  and  the  disaffected  of  England  saw,  with 
scarcely  dissembled   pleasure,  that  their  cause  was  virtually  being  se- 
cured by  the  disaffection  of  Scotland.     It  was  while  the  people  were  in 
this  ominous  temper  that  Charles,  having  exhausted  all  other  means, 
even  to  forced  loans  from  his  nobility,  was  obliged  to  call  a  parliament 
and  make  one  more  appeal  for  pecuniary  aid.    But  this  parliament  was 
even  less  than  the  former  one  inclined  to  aid  the  king.     He  had  been  re- 
fused aid  for  the  ordinary  expenses  of  the  kingdom,  and  he  was  still 
less  likely  to  be  fairly  treated  when  he,  in  terms,  demanded  aid  to  quell 
and  chastise  the  Scottish  rebels  whose  principles  were  so  near  akin  to 
those  of  the  English  puritans,  who  now  were  numerically  powerful 
enough  to  constitute  themselves  the  national  purse-holders.     Instead  of 
the  aid  he  asked  for,  the  king  received  nothing  but  remonstrance  and  re- 
buke, on  the  score  of  the  means  by  which,  when  formerly  refused  aid  by 
parliament,  he  had  supplied  himself.    Finding  the  parliament  quite  im- 
practicable, the  king  now  dissolved  it.    But  the  mere  dissolution  of  this 
arbitrary  and  unjust  assembly  could  not  diminish  the  king's  necessities, 
and  he  soon  called  another  parliament — that  fatal  one  whose  bitter  and 
organised  malignity  pursued  him  to  his  death.    The  puritan  party  was 
preponderant  in  this  parliament,  and  so  systematic  and  serried  were  the 
exertions  of  those  resolute  and  gloomy  men,  that  they  at  once  felt  and 
indicated  their  confidence  of  success  at  the  very  commencement  of  the 
session.     Instead  of  granting  the  supplies  which  the  king  demanded, 
,hey  passed  at  once  to  the  impeachment  of  the  earl  of  Strafford,  the 
faithful  minister  and  the  personal  friend  of  the  king.     Strafford  a'. ',  for- 
mer period  had  to  a  certain  moderate  extent  acted  with  the  puritans ;  but 
they  resented  his  opposition  to  their  more  insolent  proceedings  so  deeply, 
that  nothing  but  the  unfortunate  nobleman's  blood  could  appease  their 
malignity. 

It  was  well  known  that  Charles  required  no  one  to  urge  him  to  support 
the  prerogative  of  the  crown  to  its  fullest  legal  extent,  at  least ;  and  it  was 
equally  well  known  that  Laud  was  of  a  far  more  arbitrary  turn  than  Straf- 
ford, and  had  fully  as  much  influence  with  the  kin'^.  But  Strafford,  as 
we  h!ive  said,  had  given  deep  offence  to  the  puritans^,  and  deep  and  deadly 


574 


THE  TRKASUllY  OF  HISTOllY. 


wan  their  revonfe.  He  was  solemnly  irnpoachefl  of  liigli  treason  bcloro 
the  peers.  HIh  (Icfciice  was  a  perfecrt  inuuel  o(  touching  and  manly  elo- 
quence. With  a  presence  of  mind  not  to  be  surpassed,  he  took  up  and 
refuted  each  accusation  in  the  exact  order  in  which  it  had  been  made- 
and  he  concluded  by  assuring  the  peers  that  he  would  not  have  troubled 
them  so  longf,  had  he  not  felt  ibi  defence  of  hia  life  to  be  a  sacred  duty 
towards  his  children,  ''*  pledges  of  a  dear  saint  now  in  heaven."  But 
neither  the  cogent  logic  of  his  defence,  nor  the  nnimpeached  excellence 
of  his  private  character,  could  avail  auffht  against  the  political  fury  of  the 
time.  lie  was  pronounced  guilty  by  both  nouses  of  parliament,  and  his 
death  was  clamoured  for  with  an  eagerness  that  reflects  but  little  credit 
upon  the  Knglish  character  at  that  period.  There  was  but  one  thing  that 
could  have  saved  the  earl  of  Strafford,  and  it  is  with  pain  that  we  record 
that  that  one  thing  was  sadly  absent — a  just  firmness  of  character  on  (he 
part  of  the  king. 

On  a  fair  and  careful  examination  of  the  proceedings  against  Strafford 
we  can  only  discover  one  serious  fault  that  was  committed  by  that  minis- 
ter; he  allowed  his  personal  attachment  to  the  king  to  induce  hiui  to  in- 
cur  ministerial  responsibility  for  measures  which,  both  as  minister  and 
private  man,  he  greatly  disapproved  of.  But  this  great  fault  was  one 
bearing  no  proportion  to  the  dread  penalty  of  death ;  moreover,  how.ever 
faulty  Strafford  on  this  point  was  towards  himself  and  the  nation,  he  had 
committed  no  fault  against  the  king.  Contrariwise,  he  had  gi'  m  the  ut- 
most possible  proof  of  personal  and  loyal  feelings  ;  and  Charlts,  in  aban- 
doning a  minister  whose  chief  fault  was  that  of  being  too  faithful  to  his 
sovereign,  acted  a  part  so  unchivalric,  so  totally  unworthy  of  his  general 
character,  that  we  scarcely  know  how  to  speak  of  it  in  terms  sufficiently 
severe.  A  truly  futile  apology  has  been  attempted  to  be  made  for  Charles' 
abandonment  of  his  too  devoted  minister.  That  ill-fated  nobleman,  while 
confined  in  the  Tower,  heard  of  the  clamour  that  was  artfully  and  perse- 
veringly  kept  up  by  his  enemies,  and  in  a  moment  of  unwise  exallalion 
he  wrote  to  the  king  and  advised  him  to  comply  with  the  sanguinary  de- 
mand that  was  made.  The  advice  was  unwise,  but,  such  as  it  was,  it 
ought  to  have  had  the  effect  of  only  increasing  t'lr*  king's  resolution  to  save 
such  a  man  and  such  a  minister  from  destructinn.  But  Charles  took  the 
advice  literally  au  pied  de  la  letlre,  and  signed  the  warrant  for  the  execu- 
tion of,  probably,  after  his  queen,  the  most  sincerely  devoted  friend  thai 
he  possessed.  "  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes !"  was  the  agonized  com- 
mentary of  Strafford  upon  this  most  shameful  compliance  of  the  king; 
and  he  submitted  to  his  undeserved  execution  with  the  grave  and  equable 
dignity  which  had  marked  his  whole  course.  From  this  unjust  murder  of 
the  king's  friend  and  minister,  the  parliament  passed  to  a  very  righteous 
and  wise  attack  upon  two  of  the  most  iniquitous  of  the  king's  courts. 
The  high  commission  court,  and  the  court  of  star-chamber  were  unani- 
mously abolished  by  act  of  parliament. 

While  the  protestants  of  England  were  divided  into  churchmen  and 
puritans,  and  while  the  latter  were  busily  engaged  in  endeavouring  to 
throw  discredit  upon  the  church,  papacy  saw  in  these  disputes  a  new- 
temptation  for  an  attack  upon  protestantism  as  a  whole.  The  king's 
finances  were  well  known  to  be  in  such  a  state  as  must  necessarly  pre- 
vent him  from  anything  like  vigour  in  military  operations ;  and  the  papists 
of  Ireland,  aided  and  instigated  by  foreign  emissaries,  resolved  upon  a 
general  massacre  of  their  protestar.^  fellow-subjects.  A  simultaneous  at- 
tack was  made  upon  these  latter ;  no  distinction  was  made  of  age  or  ol 
sex ;  neighbour  rose  upon  neighbour,  all  old  obligations  of  kindness  were 
forgotten,  all  old  animosities,  how  trifling  soever  their  origin,  were  terri- 
bly remembered,  and  upwards  of  forty  thousand  persons  were  inhu- 
manly slaughtered.    The  king  ma'ie  every  exertion  to  suppress  and  pun- 


THB  TilEARLKY  OF  HlsiTUllY. 


iih  lhi9  iiirimous  massacre,  and,  foifling  tlntt  the  chief  obstacle  to  his  sue- 
vtii  lay  ill  his  crippled  rtiiaiicos,  he  oiicu  more  appealed  to  his  Kii^'lnih 
larhainciit  for  a  suuply.  But  not  even  the  massacre  of  their  prott-staiit 
fellow-Hubjects  could  alter  the  factious  temper  of  the  puritann;  they  not 
only  refused  the  aid  he  asked,  upon  the  absurd  plea  that  England  was  itself 
in  too  much  danger  to  spare  any  aid  to  Ireland,  but  even  added  insult  to 
injustice  by  insinuating  that  the  king  had  himself  fomented  the  disturb 
iinces  in  Ireland ;  as  though  the  unfortunate  monarch  had  not  already  too 
nuin  rous  claims  on  his  impoverished  ttnances  ! 

A.  D.  ItMl.— The  attacliment  of  the  king  to  the  cliurch  was  well  known, 
and  both  he  and  his  opponents  well  knew  that  on  the  support  and  afTection 
of  the  church  rested  tlie  ciiief  lu)pe  of  preserving  the  monarchy.  The 
puritan  party,  therefore,  determined  to  attaitk  tlie  monarchy  through  the 
church,  and  thirteen  bisliops  were  accused  of  high  treason,  in  having 
enacted  canons  for  church  goverimient  without  the  authority  or  consent 
of  the  parliament.  The  opposition,  or,  as  they  arc  commonly  called,  "  the 
popular  ineinbcrs,"  at  the  same  time  applied  to  liie  peers  to  oxi'lude  the 
prelates  from  speaking  and  voting  in  that  house  ;  and  the  bishops,  with 
more  discretion  than  dignity,  deprecated  the  puritan  animosity  by  ceasing 
to  attend  their  duly  in  the  house  of  lords.  Tiio  king  was  thus,  at  the 
very  moment  when  he  most  required  aid  in  parliament,  deprived  of  tjje 
talents  and  the  votes  of  precisely  those  peers  of  parliament  upon  whoso 
assiduity  and  devotion  he  had  the  most  depcndance. 

Posthjmous  blame  is  both  cheap  and  easy.  The  writer,  sitting  calmly 
in  his  closet,  can  easily  and  safely  point  out  the  errors  of  the  great  men 
of  a  bygone  age  ;  it  is  a  nobler  and  more  necessary  task  to  ascertain  and 
hold  up  to  view  the  circumstances  that  rendered  those  errors  excusable, 
at  least,  if  not  actually  inevitable.  Goaded,  insulted,  and  straitened  as 
Charles  was,  he  would  have  possessed  something  more  than  human  firm- 
ness if  he  had  not  at  length  deviated  into  rashness.  His  most  devoted 
friend  slain,  tlie  prelates  of  his  church  silenced,  and  himself  made  a  mere 
cipher,  except  as  to  the  continuance  of  a  vast  and  fearful  responsibility, 
he  resolved  to  try  the  effect  of  severity ;  and  he  gave  orders  to  the  attorney- 
general,  Herbert,  to  accuse  befoic  the  house  of  peers,  Lord  Kimbolton, 
together  with  the  prominent  commoners,  Hollis,  Hampden,  Pym,  Strode, 
and  Sir  Arthur  Haslerig,  of  high  treason  in  having  endeavoured  to  subvert 
the  laws  and  government  of  the  kingdom,  to  deprive  the  king  of  his  regal 
power,  and  to  substitute  for  it  an  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  authority,  inju- 
rious to  the  king  and  oppressive  to  his  liege  subjects.  Thus  far  we  are 
by  no  means  unprepared  to  approve  of  the  king's  proceedings,  for  surely 
the  conduct  of  the  accused  persons  had  been  marked  by  all  the  tendency 
attributed  to  it  in  the  terms  of  the  accusation.  But,  unfortunately,  Charles, 
instead  of  allowing  the  proceedings  to  go  forward  with  the  grave  and  de- 
/iberate  earnestness  of  a  great  judicial  matter,  was  so  wilful  or  so  ill-ad- 
vised as  to  take  a  personal  step,  which,  had  it  been  successful,  would 
have  exposed  him  to  the  imputation  of  a  most  unconstitutional  tyranny, 
and  which,  in  being  unsuccessful,  exposed  him  to  that  ridicule  and  con 
tempt  which,  injurious  to  ariy  man  under  any  circumstances,  could  be 
nothing  less  than  fatal  to  a  king  who  was  in  dispute  with  a  majority  of 
his  people,  and  yplio  had  already  seen  no  small  portion  of  them  in  actual 
battle  array  against  his  authority. 

On  the  very  day  after  the  attorney-general  had  commenced  justifiable 
proceedings  against  these  factious  leaders,  the  king  entered  the  house  of 
commons,  without  previous  notice  and  without  attendance.  On  his  maj- 
esty's first  appearance,  the  members  to  a  man  respectfully  stood  up  to  re- 
ceive him,  and  Lenthal,  the  speaker,  vacated  his  chair.  His  majesty 
sealed  himself,  and,  after  looking  sternly  round  for  some  moments,  said, 
that  understanding  that  the  house  had  refused  or  neglected  to  give  up  fivd 


676 


THE  TBXAPIIUY  OF  111;5T0UY. 


oritn  memlxTs  wlioiii  lie  hud  onlorcd  to  be  acntiMcd  of  high  troaion,  ha 
had  ;irr8uti;tlly  ruiin'  ilicrt!  to  xcizu  thciii,  a  prixTcdiiii;  tu  whirK  ho  wa« 
•orry  to  he  coinpcilcd.  I'crcciviinf  that  tlie  acciiMfd  wrro  not  prrnnnt,  he 
called  upon  the  speaker  to  dulivttr  tlicin  up;  when  that  ofllcer,  with  yrcal 
prcscnco  of  mind  and  juHiico,  replied  tiiitt  he  was  the  niero  organ  and  ler- 
vant  or  that  house,  and  that  he  had  neither  eycH  to  nt'v,  not  ears  tu  heiir, 
nor  li|)s  to  utter,  save  what  that  house  cominnnded.  Finding  that  Im 
could  III  no  other  respect  gain  by  a  procedure  in  which  he  was  so  grral  a 
loser  in  ditfiiity,  Ins  majesty,  after  sitting  silent  for  some  moments  lotiiinr, 
departed  from  the  house.  He  now  proceeded  to  the  common  council  of 
the  city,  and  made  his  complaint  of  the  conduct  of  the  house  of  commons. 
On  his  road  he  was  saluted  by  cries  of"  privilege,"  not  unmixed  withstiij 
more  insulting  cries  from  many  of  the  lower  sort,  and  his  complaint  to  the 
common  council  was  listened  to  in  a  contemptuous  and  ominous  silence. 
Irritated  and  alarmed  at  this  new  proof  of  the  unpopularity  of  his  proceed. 
ings,  he  departed  from  the  court,  and  as  he  did  so  was  saluted  by  soiup 
low  puritan  with  the  seditious  watchword  of  the  Jews  of  old — "  To  your 
tents,  0  Israel !" 

It  is  utterly  inconceivable  how  a  sovereign  possessed  of  Charles'  good 
sense,  and  aware,  as  from  many  recent  occurrences  he  needs  must  have 
been,  of  the  resolved  and  factious  nature  of  the  men  to  whom  ho  was  op- 
posed,  could  have  compromised  himself  by  so  rash  and  in  every  way  uii- 
advisable  a  proceeding  as  that  which  we  have  described.  In  truth,  he 
had  scarcely  returned  to  the  comparative  solitude  of  Windsor  before  he 
himself  saw  how  prejudicial  this  aiTair  was  likely  to  be  to  his  interests, 
and  he  hastened  to  address  a  letter  to  parliament,  in  which  he  said  that 
his  own  life  and  crown  wcie  not  more  precious  to  him  than  the  privilc{;es 
of  parliament.  This  virtual  apology  for  his  direct  and  personal  iiitef 
ferencc  with  those  privileges  was  rendered  necessary  by  his  previou.s  pre- 
cipitancy,  but  this  ill-fated  monarch  now  ran  into  another  extreme.  IJav. 
ing  offended  parliament,  his  apology  to  parliament  was  necessary,  nay, 
in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word,  it  was  dignified ;  for  a  persistence  in  errur 
is  but  a  false  dignity,  whether  in  monarch  or  in  private  man.  But  here 
his  concession  should  have  stopped.  His  ofTence  was  one  against  good 
manners,  but  the  offence  with  which  Pym  and  the  members  were  charged 
was  one  of  substance,  not  of  form.  Their  offence  was  not  in  the  slightest 
degree  diminished  or  atoned  for  by  the  king's  folly;  yet,  as  though  there 
had  been  some  close  logical  connection  between  them,  he  now  informed 
the  house  that  he  should  not  farther  prosecute  his  proceedings  against  its 
accused  members !  Could  inconsequence  or  want  of  dignity  go  farther, 
or  be  more  fatally  shown  1  If,  while  apologizing  to  the  house  for  his  iiii- 
questionable  offence  against  its  privileges,  he  still  had  calmly  and  with 
dignity,  but  sternly  and  inexorably,  carried  on  his  proceedings  against  the 
accused  members,  it  is  quite  within  the  pale  of  probability  that  he  would 
have  saved  himself  from  an  untimely  end,  and  his  country  from  the  stigma 
of  a  most  barbarous  murder.  The  opposite  conduct,  though  in  no  wise 
efficient  in  softening  the  stern  hearts  of  his  enemies,  taught  tlioin  the  fa- 
tally important  truth  that  their  king  knew  how  to  yield,  and  that  if  un- 
wisely rash  in  a  moment  of  irritation,  he  could  be  no  less  imwisely  abject 
hi  a  moment  of  calculation  or  timidicy.  It  was  a  fatal  l^son  ;  and  from 
this  moment,  in  spite  of  any  seeming  and  temporary  advantages,  Charles 
of  England  was  virtually  u  dethroned  monarch  and  a  doomed  man. 

There  was  a  deep  art,  beyond  what  was  at  first  apparent,  in  the  insolent 
insinuation  of  the  popular  declaimers  that  the  king  had  himself  fomented 
the  recent  horrors  in  Ireland.  The  awful  massacre  among  the  protc^ 
tants  of  that  country  had  naturally  raised  a  new  horror  and  dread  of  papacy 
in  the  minds  of  the  protestants  of  England.  The  artful  popular  leaders 
took  advantage  of  this  very  natural  feeling,  and  worked  upon  it  as  might 


THK  TKBASf  RY  Or  HIr«T()RY. 


•r 


rlcs'  good 
iiust  have 

0  \Vil8  op- 

^  way  uii- 

1  truth,  he 
before  he 

I  interesU, 

<  said  that 

;  privileges 

onal  iiUef 

•c V  ions  pre- 

■me.    liav- 

(ssary,  nay, 

ice  in  error 
But  here 

■ainsl  gooil 

ere  charged 

he  slightest 

lOUgh  there 

\v  informed 
against  its 
go  farther, 
for  his  uii- 
and  with 
against  the 
It  he  would 
n  the  stigma 
in  no  wise 
hem  the  fa- 
that  if  un- 
isely  abject 
, ,  and  from 
ges,  Charles 
man, 

1  the  insolent 
elf  fomented 
the  protes- 
lad  of  papacy 
lular  leaders 
I  it  as  roiglit 


prom  sn  orttt  to  tid  tlioir  own  .imhiiiotiN  aixl  liinoil-thir^ty  vifWH.  Tlic  ii{> 
iioraiit  amithi'  liiniil  wcrt'  taiinht  to  hi'lirvo  ih.ii  tin-  ina^incn-  nf  tin*  pro- 
teMtunta.  lliiHiu'h  t)ii- ilecil  of  hi^rotcd  niipiHtH,  was  fur  ciintitrli  from  hiutg 
(lisiiijret'al)!)'  to  the  kiiit(  iiml  Iiih  rru'iulH,  who  woiilii  proliatily  ouihu 
miniUr  proirciiliiigH  in  Kiii{laiiil  tiiilrit!^  dur  nowir  aitd  iniMiix  *<\  pri'vrii- 
tion  wt'tt*  pliio'd  III  timu  in  iho  haiulH  of  pariiaini-nt,  which  w.ts  ciiiiHiiititly 
n-pri'NiMiK'd  IIS  an  mtigi'r  that  ii(!(!V!4>4arily  htvrd  and  watclird  over,  iiiMtrad 
of  what  It  ri'ally  was,  an  a^arn'niUr.  (•i)inposr<l  nf  varmiiH  dispiiHiiiiiiiH  and 
ratt's  of  talent,  li  viiiff  but  ontt  cDmnion  bmid  of  iiiiinii,  h  hatri'd  of  all  au- 
thority savi'  that  of  tlio  au<rri'i;atc  in  i|iiefitioii,  and  having  a  dcfcnniM-  fir 
no  opinion  s.ivc  that  of  rath  individual  mt'niJM'r  of  that  aj,'nri'i;ati'.  'rnat- 
ed  a!«  ('harliia  liad  been  almost  from  tiit;  llrst  day  of  his  rciuii,  it  ninsi  t<o 
clear  lo  tlu"  most  Hiipfrlicial  ohacrvcr,  that  noiliuijf  Inn  Ins  l'orMc.*si'>t  and 
Ins  troops  rem. lined  to  him  of  the  siibslamc  of  ninnarcliy.  'I'lii'  parlia- 
mt'iit  noNV  dclermmed  to  drprivo  liim  of  these.  'I'litfy  had  seen  that  Im 
t;ouid  yield,  they  calenlated  upon  a  pas^joirite  resistance  to  their  first  ex- 
orliiluiiey  and  insidenee  ofdiniand  ;  but  they  doubled  not  that  the  vacil- 
lation of  tiie  king's  mind  would  begin  longtire  the  resolute  olisiin.icy  of 
tlit'irown  would  terminal(!.  The  result  but  too  well  proved  the  a<'euiacy 
of  their  reasoning.  The  peojilo  were  skilfully  worked  np  into  an 
ecstaey  of  horror  of  the  designs  and  power  of  the  papists,  and  thus 
urged  to  petition  that  the  Tower,  the  fortresses  of  Mull  and  I'orta- 
iiioulh,  and  the  Heel,  slionld  be  committed  lo  the  hands  of  ollieers  ill 
the  coiiliiienco  of  parlianumt.  Demands  so  indicative  of  suspicion,  so 
iiisiiltiiiijly  raying  that  the  king  would  place  such  imporlant  trusts  in 
hands  iiiilil  to  use  thom,  were,  as  Iho  opposition  had  anticipated,  war'uly 
resented  ,it  first,  and  then  unwisely  complied  with. 

Kiiibiddoned  by  this  nev/  concession,  the  popular  ii^ivty  alTected  new 
niiJ  incre.ised  fears  of  the  designs  uf  the  Irisii  papists,  and  demanded 
that  a  new  militia  should  bo  raised  and  trained,  the  commanders  as 
well  as  the  merely  suballern  oflieers  of  whicii  should  bo  noininatcrd  by 
parliament.  (/Iiarlcs  now,  when  too  late,  pcrcc'ived  that  even  to  eon- 
code  safely  rccjuires  judgment ;  and  being  urged  to  give  np  the  com- 
mand of  the  army  for  a  limited  space  of  time,  ho  promptly  replied, 
"No!  not  even  for  a  single  hour!"  Happy  for  himself  and  his  king- 
dom had  it  been  if  he  had  earlier  known  how  to  say  "  No,"  and  to  abide 
by  it  not  only  with  firmness  but  als(»  with  temper. 

A.  D.  1(342. — In  making  this  demand  parliament  had  completely  thrown 
off  the  mask;  and  as  the  very  extremity  to  whieli  the  king  was  driven 
supplied  him  in  this  one  case  with  the  firmness  which  in  general  and 
by  his  natural  temper  he  so  sadly  wanted,  it  at  once  became  evident 
ihal  the  disputes  between  the  king  and  his  loyal  subjects  on  the  one 
side,  and  the  puritans  and  their  only  too  numerous  and  fiiilhusiastic 
dupes  on  the  other,  could  only  be  decided  by  the  saddest  of  all  means,  a 
civil  war.  On  either  side  appeals  to  the  people  were  printed  and  circu- 
lated in  vast  numbers,  and,  as  usual  in  such  cases,  each  side  exaggerated 
the  faults  of  the  other,  and  was  profoundly  silent  as  to  its  own  faults, 
whether  as  to  past  conduct  or  present  views.  The  king's  friends,  being 
for  the  most  part  of  the  more  opulent  ranks,  assumed  the  title  of  the  cava- 
liers, while  the  puritan,  or  rebel  party,  from  their  affected  habit  of  wear- 
ing their  hair  closely  cut,  were  called  roundheads,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
majority  of  the  nation  ranked  under  the  one  or  the  other  appellation,  and 
everything  portended  that  the  civil  strife  would  be  long,  fierce  and  san- 
guinary. 

In  addition  to  the  train-bands  assembled  under  theeommand  of  Sir  John 

Digby,  the  king  had  barely  three  hundred  infantry  and  eight  hundred 

cavalry,  and  he  was  by  no  means  well  provided  with  arms.     But.  in  spitt 

gf  all  file  exertions  of  the  puritans,  ther«  was  still  an  extensive  feeling  of 

Vol.  I.— 37 


'",.«rTf7^~ 


578 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HI3T0RY. 


loynlty  among  the  higher  and  mid'ile  orders ;  and  as  the  king  with  his  In. 
tlo  army  marched  slowly  to  Derby  and  tluMiee  to  Shrewshury,  large  addj. 
tions  were  made  to  his  force,  and  some  of  the  more  opulent  loyahsts  af- 
forded him  liberal  and  most  welcome  aid  in  money,  arms,  and  ammunition 

On  the  side  of  the  parliament  similar  preparations  were  made  for  the 
impending  stru^jglo.  When  the  important  fortress  of  Hull  was  surren- 
dered into  their  hands,  they  made  it  their  depot  for  arms  and  ammunition, 
and  it  was  held  for  them  by  a  governor  of  their  own  appointment,  Sir  John 
Hotliam.  On  the  plea  of  defending  Kngland  from  the  alledged  designs 
of  the  Irish  papists,  jrreat  numbers  of  troops  had  been  raised  ;  and  these 
were  now  openly  enlisted  and  officered  for  the  parliament,  and  placed 
under  the  connnand  of  the  earl  of  Kssex,  who,  however,  was  supposed  to 
he  anxious  rather  to  abridge  the  power  of  the  existing  monarch  than  aei- 
ually  to  annihilate  the  monarchy,  which,  doubtless,  had  from  the  very  first 
been  the  design  of  the  leaders  of  the  popular  party.  So  great  was  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  roundheads,  that  they  in  one  day  enlisted  above  four  thou 
sand  men  in  London  alone. 

Tired  of  the  occupation  of  watching  each  others'  manoeuvres,  the  hos- 
tile troops  at  length  met  at,  Kdge-hill,  on  the  borders  of  the  counties  ol 
Warwick  and  Stafford.  A  furious  engagement  took  place,  which  lasted 
several  hours  ;  upwards  of  five  thousand  men  fell  upon  the  field,  and  the 
contending  armies  separated,  wearied  with  slaying  yet  not  satiated  with 
slaughter,  and  each  claiming  the  victory. 

Tlie  whole  kingdom  was  now  disturbed  by  the  incessant  marching  and 
countermarching  of  the  two  armies.  Neither  of  them  was  disciplined, 
and  the  disorders  caused  by  their  march  were  consequently  great  and 
de.-itruclive.  The  queen,  whose  spirit  was  as  high  as  her  affection 
for  her  husband  was  great,  most  opportunely  landed  from  Holland 
with  a  large  quantity  of  ammunition  and  a  considiTable  reinforcement  of 
men,  and  she  immediately  left  England  again  to  raise  farther  supplies, 
In  the  manoeuvring  and  skirmishes  which  were  constantly  going  on,  the 
king,  from  the  sup(!rior  raidv  and  spirit  of  his  followers,  had  for  some  time 
a  very  marked  advantage;  but  the  parliamentarians,  so  far  from  beingdis- 
couraged,  actually  seemed  to  increase  in  their  pretensions  in  proportion 
to  the  loss  and  disgrace  they  experienced  in  the  field.  That  the  kinij 
was  at  this  time  sincere  in  his  expressed  desire  to  put  a  stop  to  tlic  out- 
pouring of  his  subjects'  blood  apjjoars  clear  from  the  fact,  that  on  obtain- 
ing any  advantage  he  invariably  sent  pacific  proposals  to  the  parliament 
This  was  especially  the  case  when  he  lay  in  all  security  in  the  loyal  city 
of  Oxford,  whence  he  conducted  a  long  negotiation,  in  which  the  inso- 
lence of  the  l(;aders  of  the  other  party  was  so  great  and  conspicuous,  that 
even  the  most  moderate  writers  liave  blamed  the  king,  as  having  carried 
his  desire  for  pacific  measures  to  an  extreme,  injurious  alike  to  his  dig- 
nity  and  to  the  very  cause  he  was  anxious  to  serve. 

But  if  he  bore  somewhat  too  meekly  with  ttie  insolence  of  his  opponents 
in  the  cabinet,  the  king  in  his  first  campaign  of  the  disastrous  civil  war 
was  abundantly  successful  in  the  field,  in  spite  of  the  savage  severity  of 
his  opponents,  who  treated  as  traitors  tiie  governors  of  those  strong  places 
whicdi  from  time  to  time  were  opened  to  their  sovereign. 

Cornwall  was  thoroughly  subjected  to  the  king ;  at  Stratton-idll,  in 
Devonshire,  a  fine  army  of  the  pn.rliaineiitarians  was  routed;  and  at 
Roundway-down,  near  Devizes,  in  Wiltshire,  another  great  victory  was 
gained  over  them  by  the  royal  troops,  who  were  again  successful  in  the 
still  more  important  battle  of  Chulgrave-field,  in  Bnckiiiidiamshirc.  The 
important  city  of  Bristol  was  taken  by  the  royalists,  aiiTl  Gloucester  was 
closely  invested.  Thus  far  all  looked  in  favour  of  the  royal  cause  during 
the  Arst  campaign,  and  at  its  close  great  hopes  of  farther  success  were. 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


679 


I 


founded  upon  the  fine  artiiy  that  was  raised  for  the  king  in  the  north  of 
I'liigland  by  the  loyal  and  Iiigh-liearted  marquis  of  Newcastle.  Nor  waa 
It  the  losis  only  of  battles  and  strong-holds  that  tiie  parliamentarians  had 
now  10  dt.'plore. 

.liiliu  Hampden,  who  had  made  so  sturdy,  although,  in  our  opinion,  so 
ill-founilet.  an  opposition  to  the  ship-money,  while  acting  with  the  per- 
verse men  v^^hose  conduct  made  that  undoubted  extortion  inevitable,  took 
the  fii'ld  with  the  parliamentarians  at  the  head  of  a  well-appointed  troop 
wiiii'li  chiefly  consisted  of  his  own  tenants  and  neighbours.  On  several 
0(!(;iisions  he  displayed  great  courage,  and  it  being  proposed  to  beat  up 
tin,'  quarters  of  the  king's  gallant  relative,  Prince  Uupert,  Hampden  was 
foremost  in  the  attack.  When  the  parliamentary  troops  were  subse- 
quently mustered  iMr.  Hampden  was  missed,  and  it  was  then  remarked 
tlial  lie  had  been  seen,  contrary  to  his  usual  custom,  to  leave  the  field 
before  the  figlit  was  ended,  and  it  was  noticed,  too,  that  he  was  leaning 
forward  on  his  saddle-bow  as  if  exhausted  and  in  pain.  The  fears  thus 
excited  were  soon  realized ;  he  had  beet)  severely  wounded.  The  king 
would  have  sent  his  own  surgeon  to  endeavour  to  save  tiiis  inflexibly 
honest  though  mistaken  foe;  but  the  ill-fated  gentleman  was  injured  be- 
yond human  remedy,  and  died  soon  after  the  action. 

Tliis  loss  on  the  parliamentary  side  was  even  more  than  balanced  by 
the  death  of  the  royalist  officer,  Lucius  Gary,  Lord  Falkland,  one  of  the 
uicst  cliaractcrs  that  grace  our  national  history.  As  a  statesman  he 
i;ul  opposed  the  errors  of  the  king  with  all  the  boldness  and  inflexibility 
of  ilunipden,  but  with  a  grace  and  moderation  of  which  Hampden's  stern 
and  severe  nature  was  incapable.  But  tiiough  Lord  Falkland  ardently 
desired  liberty  for  the  subject,  he  was  not  prepared  to  oppress  the  sov- 
ereign; and  the  moment  that  the  evil  designs  of  the  popular  leaders 
were  fully  d<!veloped,  the  gallant  and  accomplised  nobleman  took  his 
stand  beside  his  royal  master.  Learned,  witty,  elegant,  and  accomplish- 
ed, lie  was  indignant  and  disgusted  at  the  evident  desire  of  the  popular 
leaders  to  deluge  their  country  in  blood,  rather  than  stop  short  of  the 
full  aeeomplishment  of  tlieir  ambitious  and  evil  designs.  From  the  com- 
meneeinent  of  the  civil  war  he  became  possessed  by  a  deep  and  settled 
melaneholy,  the  more  remarkable  from  contrast  with  his  natural  vivacity. 
He  neglected  his  person,  his  countenance  became  anxious  and  haggard, 
and  he  would  remain  in  silent  thought  for  hours,  and  then  cry,  as  if  un- 
consciously, "  I'eace  !  peace  !  Let  our  unhappy  country  have  peace  !"  On 
the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Newbury  he  told  his  friends  that  his  soul 
wiis  weary  of  the  world,  and  that  he  felt  confident  that  ere  nightfall  he 
should  leave  them.  His  sad  prediction  was  accomplished;  he  was 
mortally  wounded  by  a  musket  ball  in  the  abdomen,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  following  morning  that  his  mourning  friends  rescued  his  body  from 
amid  the  meaner  slain. 

The  first  campaigii  being  ended,  the  king  made  vigorous  preparations 
for  a  second.  As  it  was  evident  that  the  very  name  of  a  parliament  had 
a  great  inlhience  upon  the  minds  of  many,  and  as  all  negotiation  with 
the  (dd  parlianient  sitting  at  Westminister  led  only  to  new  insult,  the 
king  wisely  determined  to  call  another  parliament  at  Oxford,  where  he 
had  his  quarters.  The  peers  being  for  tlie  most  part  firmly  loyal,  the 
king's  upper  house  was  well  filled,  but  liis  hjwer  house  had  not  more 
than  a  hundred  and  forty  members,  being  scarcely  half  the  number  that 
«v;»s  nuislered  by  the  rebellious  house  of  commons.  But  the  king's  mem- 
oeis  were  mostly  men  of  wealth  and  influence,  and  thus  they  had  it  in 
ihtii-  power  to  d.)  the  kinir  the  chief  service  he  really  required,  that 
of  voting  him  supplies,  llaving  done  tins  they  were  dismissed  with 
thanks  and  never  again  called  together. 
iJut  any  supplies  which  the  king  could  procure  from  what  may  almost 


iS80 


THE  TREASURY  OK  HISTORY. 


bo  called  individual  loyalty  were  but  siir.ill  in  comparison  lo  those 
which  tlie  factious  pariiaiiieiitariai)s  could  conimand  by  tlie  terror  which 
they  could  strike  into  nearly  every  district  of  the  country.  As  if  to  show 
at  once  their  power  in  this  way,  and  the  extent  to  which  they  were  pre- 
pared  to  abuse  it,  they  issued  an  arbitrary  command  thai  all  tiie  iuliabi- 
t.tnts  of  London  and  the  surrounding  neiglibourliood  should  substract  one 
meal  in  every  week  from  their  accustomed  diet,  and  pay  the  full  price  of 
provision  thus  saved  as  a  contribution  to  the  support  of  what  these  im- 
pudent and  ambitious  men  affected  to  call  the  public  cause.  The  sedi- 
tious  Scots  at  the  same  time  sent  a  large  supply  of  men  to  the  parlia- 
mentarians, who  also  had  fourteen  thousand  men,  under  the  earl  of  Man- 
chester, ten  thousand  under  the  earl  of  Essex,  and  eight  thousand  and 
upwards  under  Sir  William  Waller.  And  though  this  force  was  numeri- 
cally so  much  superior  lo  the  king's,  and,  by  consequence,  so  niucii  more 
onerous,  the  parliamentary  troops  were,  in  fact,  far  belter  supplied 
with  both  provision  and  ammunition  than  the  royalists ;  the  majority  of 
men  being  so  deluded  or  so  terrified  by  the  parliamentarians  tliat  an  or- 
dinance of  parliament  was  at  all  times  sufficient  to  procure  provisions  for 
the  rebel  force,  when  the  king  could  scarcely  get  provisions  for  money 

A.  D.  1C44.— rThough,  in  the  ordinary  style  used  in  speaking  of  niilitary 
affairs  we  have  been  obliged  lo  speak  of  the  termination  of  the  first  cam- 
paign, at  the  period  when  the  contending  parties  went  into  winter  quar- 
ters, hostilities,  in  fact,  never  wholly  ceased  from  the  moment  when  tiiey 
rirst  commenced.  Even  when  the  great  armies  were  formally  lying  idle 
a  constant  and  most  destructive  partizan  warfare  was  carried  on.  The 
village-green  became  a  battle-field,  the  village-church  a  fort;  now  this, 
now  that  parly  plundered  the  peasantry,  who  in  their  hearts  learned  to 
curse  the  fierceness  of  both,  and  pray  that  one  or  the  other  might  be  su 
effectually  beaten  as  to  put  a  stop  at  once  and  forever  to  scenes  wiiich 
had  all  the  ghastly  horrors  of  war  without  any  of  its  glory,  and  all  its 
present  riot  and  spoilation  without  even  the  chance  of  its  subsequent 
g;tin.  Whether  cavalier  or<roundhead  were  triumphant  the  peaceable  deni- 
zen was  equally  the  sufferer;  and  when  the  war-cry  and  the  blasphemy 
rang  through  the  village-street,  and  re-echoed  through  the  trees  tliiit 
waved  above  the  graves  of  the  long  generations  of  the  former  occupants 
of  the  village,  what  mattered  it  whether  cavalier  cheered  or  roundhead 
prostituted  the  words  of  the  book  of  life — were  they  not  English  accents 
that  issued  from  the  passion-curled  lips  of  both  parties? 

That  the  system  of  terrorism  which  the  parliamentarians  acted  upon 
had  very  much  to  do  witli  prolonging  this  unnatural  contest  seems  in- 
disputable. Counties,  and  lesser  districts,  even,  as  soon  as  they  were 
for  a  brief  lime  freed  from  the  presence  of  the  parliamentary  forces,  al- 
mcst  invariably  and  unanimously  declared  for  the  king.  Nay,  in  the  very 
towns  that  were  garrisoned  by  tlie  parliamentarians,  including  even  their 
strong-hold  and  chief  reliance,  London,  there  was  at  length  a  loud  and 
general  echo  of  the  earnest  cry  of  the  good  Lord  Falkland,  "Peace !  peace! 
Let  our  country  have  peace  !"  From  many  places  the  parliament  received 
f  nnal  petitions  to  tiiis  effect ;  and  in  London,  which  at  the  outset  had 
been  so  furiously  seditious,  the  very  women  assembled  to  the  number  ol 
upwards  of  four  thousand,  and  surrounded  the  .ouse  of  commons,  exclaim- 
ing, "  Peace  !  give  us  peace  !  or  those  traitoi  •  who  deny  us  peace,  thai 
we  may  tear  them  to  pieces."  So  furious  were  the  women  on  this  occa- 
sion, that,  in  the  violence  used  by  the  guards,  some  of  these  wives  and 
mothers  who  wished  their  husbands  and  sons  no  longer  to  be  the  prey  ul 
a  handful  of  ambitious  men  were  actually  killed  upon  the  spot ! 

But  they  who  had  so  joyously  aided  in  sowing  the  whirlwind  were  iiu! 
yet  to  cease  to  reap  the  storm.  War,  to  the  complete  destruction  cl 
the  alt  ;r  and  the  throne,  was  the  design  of  the  self-elecled  und  resolv'  J 


THE  TUKA!^    RY  OF  HISTORY. 


Sfft 


ruicrt,  and  it  was  m  vain  that  their  lately  entlmsiastie  dupes  now  cried 
»l(iii(i  and  in  bitter  misery  for  the  blessinirs  of  peace. 

BeUnc  we  proceed  to  speak  of  tlie  serrond  campaign  of  this  sad  war, 
we  must  introduce  to  the  attention  of  the  reader  a  man  who  henceforth 
fixed  the  chief  attention  of  both  jjiiriies,  ai\d  whose  character,  even  in  the 
present  day,  is  nearly  as  much  disputed  as  his  singidar  energy  and  still 
more  singular  and  rapid  success  were  marvelled  at  in  his  own  time. 

Oliver  Cromwell  was  the  son  of  a  Huntingdonshire  gentleman  who,  as 
a  second  son  of  a  respectable  but  not  wealthy  family,  was  himself  posses- 
sed of  InU  a  small  fortune,  which  he  is  said  to  have  improved  by  engng- 
'\i\iT  in  the  trade  of  a  brewer.  At  college,  and  even  later  in  life,  Oliver 
Criiniwell  was  remarkable  rather  for  dissipation  than  for  ability,  and  the 
very  small  resources  that  he  ii\herited  were  pretty  nearly  exhausted  by 
his  excesses,  long  before  he  had  any  inclination  or  opportunity  to  take 
part  in  public  affairs.  On  reaching  mature  manhood,  however,  he  sud- 
denly changed  his  course  of  life,  and  atTected  the  enthusiastic  speech 
ind  rigid  conduct  of  the  puritans,  whose  daily  increasing  power  and  con- 
Hequi'iine  hi-  shrewd  glance  was  not  slow  to  discover. 

Just  as  the  dis[)utes  between  the  king  and  lh(!  poptdar  party  grew 
warm,  Oliver  Cromwell  represented  in  parliament  his  native  town  of 
Huntingdon,  and  a  sketch  left  of  him  by  a  keen  observer  who  saw  his 
earliest  exertions  in  that  capacity,  re[)resents  a  man  i'rom  whom  we 
should  but  little  expect  th(!  energy,  talent,  and  success  of  the  future 
"  Protf.ctor  "  Cromwell.  Homely  in  countenance,  almost  to  actual  ug- 
liness, hesitating  in  speech,  ungainly  in  gesture,  and  ill  clad  in  a  sad 
coloured  suit  "  which  looked  as  it  hul  been  made  by  some  ill  country 
tailor,"  the  future  statesman  and  warrior  addressed  the  house  amid  the 
scarcelv  suppressed  whispers  of  both  friends  and  foes,  who  little  dream- 
ed that  in  that  uncouth,  ill  nurtured,  and  slovenly-looking  person  they 
Baw  the  vast  and  terrilde  genius  who  was  to  slay  his  sovereign,  knead 
all  the  fierce  factions  of  Knglishmen  into  one  trampled  and  submissive 
mass,  and,  while  wielding  a  most  usurped  and  lawless  authority  over  the 
English  nation  at  home,  so  direct  her  energies  abroad  as  to  make  her 
name  stand  fully  as  high  among  the  astounded  and  gazing  nations  as  ever 
it  had  been  carried  or  maintained  by  the  most  fortunate  and  valiant  of 
the  lawful  sovereigns  of  Kiigland.  , 

As  a  mere  senator  Cromwell  would  probably  never  have  succeeded  m 
making  himself  a  great  name;  he  required  to  cominajid  rather  than  to 
advise,  to  act  rather  than  to  argue.  Gifted  with  an  iron  frame,  the  body 
and  mind,  with  him,  aided  each  other,  and  he  who  stammered  out  con- 
fiiscd  no-meanings  to  the  half  wearied  and  half  wondering  senate, 
thought  clearly  and  brightly  as  the  lightning  flash,  and  shouted  his  vig- 
orous conceptions  with  the  dread  vehemence  of  thunder,  amid  the  fury 
and  the  clank  of  the  battle,  and  as  he  guided  his  war-steed  through  car- 
nage towards  carnage  more  terrible  still. 

It  is  to  this  day  a  mooted  point  whether  Cromwell  was  wholly  deluded 
or  wholly  a  deluder ;  or  whether  he  was  partly  the  one  and  partly  the 
other.  To  us  it  seems  that  tht're  was  nothing  natural  in  his  character, 
as  developed  by  history,  save  his  mental  and  bodily  energy,  his  profound 

agacity,  his  decision  and  his  master-passion — ambition.  He  saw,  no 
doubt,  poor  men  become  rich,  and  mean  men  powerful,  as  riches  and 
power  are  estimated  in  the  petty  affairs  of  obscure  country  towns,  and 
he  saw  that  they  achieved  their  personal  aggrandizement  by  a  supple 
compliance  with  the  cant  and  grimace  of  the  day.    He  had  suffered  both  in 

epntation  and  fortune  by  his  free  if  not  profligate  life,  and  it  is  probable 
that  he  at  the  outset  adopted  the  outward  appearance  of  another  way  of 
thinking  with  no  deeper  or  more  extensive  design  than  that  of  saving  him- 
Rt  If  from  the  inevitable  ill  consequences  of  poverty.  Once  arrived  in  par- 
tiament,  v/hether  conducted  thither  by  mere  accideiit  or  skilful  intriguing, 


fi<!l2 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


a  single  glance  must  have  shown  even  a  far  less  sagacious  person  than 
he  was,  that  the  puritans  wonlfl,  sooner  or  later,  be  incomparably  the 
most  powerful  party  in  the  state.  Joiniufr  with  them  from  inrert-st,  aping 
their  manners  from  necessity,  lie  would  from  mere  habit  ccmtinue  to  ape 
them  lonw  after  he  could  atTord  to  be  more  open  in  his  conduct.  But  the 
frequent  profaii'ty  of  his  remarks,  and  the  occasional  coarseness  and 
jollity  of  his  "  horse-play  "  among  his  soldier-saints,  appear  to  us  to  savour 
very  much  of  unconscious  and  uncontrollable  breakings  forth  of  the  old 
Adam  of  the  naliir;d  man  ;  fever  fits  of  the  natural  heart  and  temper  thiit 
were  too  strong  for  the  artificial  training  of  resolved  hypocrisy.  Siinh 
upon  repeated  and  most  impartial  examination,  appears  to  us  to  have  b«'ri 
the  real  character  of  Cromwell. 

Though  forty-four  years  old  before  he  drew  a  sword,  Oromwell  at  the 
very  outset  of  the  rebellion  showed  himself  what  has  been  emphatically 
called  a  born  soldier.  Stalwart  though  clumsy  in  frame,  a  bold  and  a 
good  rider,  and — as  most  men  of  any  respeclibility  of  thai  time  were— a 
perfect  master  of  the  ponderous  sword  then  in  use,  he  was  the  very  maii 
for  a  partizan  captain  of  heavy  cavalry.  His  troops  was  almost  entirely 
composed  of  the  sons  of  respectable  farmers  and  yeomen,  and  as  tlioy 
were  deeply  tinctured  with  tlie  religious  feeling  of  puritanism,  and  filled 
to  overflowing  with  the  physical  daring  of  well-born  and  well-nurtured 
Englishmen,  his  assumed  sympathy  with  them  in  the  former  respect  and 
his  genuine  equality  or  superiority  in  the  latter,  shortly  gave  him  the 
most  unbounded  power  of  leading  them  into  any  danger  that  human 
beings  could  create,  and  through  or  over  any  obstacles  that  human 
prowess  and  daring  could  surmount. 

Indefatigable,  active,  patient  of  fatigue,  Cromwell  .speedily  attracted  the 
notice  of  the  parliamentary  leaders,  who  bestowed  praise  and  distinc- 
tion upon  him  none  the  less  cheerfully  because  as  yet  he  did  not  affeet 
to  aim  at  anything  higher  than  the  character  of  a  bold,  stern,  and  active 
partizan  captain,  who  wiis  ever  ready  with  sword  in  hand  and  foot  in  stir- 
rup when  the  enemy's  night  quarters  were  to  be  beaten  up,  a  convoy  seiz- 
ed, or  any  other  real  though  comparatively  obscure  service  was  to  be  ren- 
dered  to  the  gond  cause.  Such  was  the  estimate  Cromwell's  command- 
ers formed  of  him ;  such  the  estimate  he  wished  them  to  form  of  the 
man  who  was  one  day  to  dictate  to  the  proudest  and  to  laugh  to  scorn 
the  wiliest  among  them ! 

The  too  famous  and  disastrous  battle  of  Long  Marston  Moor,  as  it  was 
the  first  great  military  calamity  of  the  king,  so  it  was  the  first  great  oc- 
casion upon  which  Cromwell  had  the  opportunity  (which  he  so  well  knew 
how  to  seize)  cf  openly  and  signally  displaying  himself.  A  junction  had 
been  formed  between  the  Scotch  army  and  the  English  parliamentary  for- 
ces, and  this  combined  host  invested  York.  This  city,  both  from  its  own 
wealth  and  from  its  situation  as  the  capital  of  the  northern  counties,  ivas 
too  important  to  the  royal  cause  to  be  lost  without  a  struggle ;  and  Prince 
Rupert  and  the  marquis  of  Newcastle  joined  their  forces  in  order  to  rai-se 
the  seige  of  the  ancient  city.  The  opposing  forces,  in  number  about  fifty 
thousand,  met  on  Long  Marston  Moor,  and  a  long  and  obstinate  contest 
ensued.  The  right  wing  of  the  royalist  troops,  commanded  by  Prince 
Rupert,  was  broken  and  driven  off  the  field  by  the  highly  trained 
cavalry  under  Cromwell,  wlio,  after  having  dispersed  the  royalists'  right 
wing,  promptly  galloped  back  to  the  field,  and  very  materially  aided  in 
putting  to  flight  the  main  body  of  the  royalists  under  the  marquis.  The 
result  of  this  hard  day's  fighting  was  the  capture  by  the  parliamentarians 
of  the  whole  of  Rupert's  admirable  train  of  artillery,  and  a  loss  of  men, 
reputation,  and  self-confideiice,  from  which  it  may  safely  be  averred  that 
the  royalists  never  recovered. 

The  successes  of  the  parliaineiUarians  made  them  all  the  haughtier  iiv 


THE  TREASUttY  OK  HISTOllY 


5iB3 


Iheir  pretensions  and  all  the  more  unsparing  in  their  resoives.  Laud. 
Bfchbishopof  Canterbury,  hail  for  a  long  li nu;  been  coiifnied  in  the  Tower; 
his  devotion  to  his  mastur  beinif  the  only  crime  with  which  he  could 
be  justly  ciiarged,  except  the  kindred  crime  of  still  warmer  devotion,  if 
possible,  to  the  rights  and  supremacy  of  the  church  of  England.  This 
eminent  man  was  therefore  brought  to  trial  by  his  bitter  enemies,  the  puri- 
tans, condemned,  and  executed.  As  if  to  set  a  peculiar  and  characteris- 
tically puritanical  mark  upon  this  dastardly  act  of  vulgar  and  ignorant 
vengeance,  the  now  dominant  power  ordered  the  abolition— by  what  they 
called  law — of  the  church  of  KngUnd  liturgy  on  the  very  day  of  the  exe- 
cution of  the  learned  and  energetic;  prelate  whose  devotion  to  his  duty  was 
indomitable.  By  this  act  of  abolition  the  Englisli  church  was  reduced,  as 
regarded  power  in  the  state,  to  the  same  level  as  the  newest,  meanest,  and 
most  insane  of  numerous  petty  sects  into  which  conceit,  or  ignorance,  or 
sheer  knavery  had  by  this  time  split  the  puritans ;  and  tlic  Scottish  rebel 
army  appropriately  enough  joined  the  London  rebel  citizens  in  givinj^ 
public  thanks  for  an  alteration  of  which  not  one  of  them  could  have  pointed 
out  a  substantial  advantage,  while  its  instant  and  perspective  disadvan- 
tage miglit  have  been  perceived  by  a  tolerably  educated  child.  Hut  fac- 
tion loves  a  change— even  though  it  certainly  be  not  for  the  better,  and 
probably  may  prove  to  be  for  the  worse  I 

A.  D.  1645. — Though  the  royalists,  as  related  above,  were  seriously  in- 
jured and  depressed  by  the  result  of  the  battle  of  Long  Marston  Moor, 
neither  the  king  nor  his  friends  despaired  of  ultimate  success.  While  the 
parliamentarians  exerted  themselves  to  crush  the  royalists  whenever  the 
next  general  action  should  ensue,  the  king  and  his  friends  made  equally 
strenuous  efforts  to  redeem  their  fortune  and  character  on  the  like  con- 
tingency. A  variety  of  counter-marching  and  mere  partizan  skirmishing 
took  place  during  the  earlier  months  of  the  year  1645,  and  at  length,  on 
the  14th  of  June  of  that  year,  the  main  strength  of  the  two  parties  met 
near  Naseby,  a  village  in  Northamptonshire.  The  right  wing  of  the 
royal  army  was  commanded  by  the  gallant  and  impetuous  Rupert,  the 
left  wing  by  Sir  Marmaduke  Langdale,  and  the  main  body  by  the  lord 
Astley,  while  a  choice  force  was  commanded,  as  a  reserve,  by  the  king 
in  person.  The  left  wing  of  the  parliamentarians  was  commanded  by 
Ireton,  who  had  married  Cromwell's  daughter,  the  right  wing  by  Crom- 
well himself,  whose  gallant  and  skilful  charges  at  Long  Marston  Moor 
were  not  forgotten,  and  the  main  body  by  generals  Fairfax  and  Skippon. 
The  parliamentary  left  wing  was  so  hotly  charged  by  the  impetuous  and 
dashing  Rupert,  that  it  was  fairly  broken  and  driven  through  the  streets 
of  Naseby.  But  this  success  was  rendered  of  comparatively  little  advan- 
tage, for  Rupert  lost  so  much  time  in  attempting  to  seize  Ireton's  artillery 
tiiat  Cromwell,  meanwhile,  broke  the  royal  horse  under  Sir  Marma- 
duke Langdale,  beyond  all  the  efforts  of  that  officer  for  its  re-formation. 
While  the  cavalry  on  either  side  was  thus  occupied,  the  infantry  were 
hotly  engaged,  and  so  much  to  the  advantage  of  the  royal  side  that  the  bat- 
tallions  of  the  parliament  were  actually  falling  back  in  disorder.  The 
whole  fate  of  the  day  now  mainly  depended  upon  which  side  should  first 
gee  its  cavalry  return.  If  Rupert,  instead  of  employing  himself  in  seizing 
or  spiking  artillery,  had  at  this  time  returned  and  made  one  of  his  fear- 
fully impetuous  charges  upon  the  flank  of  the  faltering  roundheads,  whom 
Ihebest  efforts  of  Fairfax  and  Skippon  could  scarcely  keep  from  falling 
into  a  rout,  the  fortune  of  that  day,  and  most  probably  the  issue  of  the 
ivhole  struggle,  would  have  been  in  favour  of  the  king.  But  the  mar- 
rellous  good  fortune  of  Cromwell  attended  him  ;  he  returned  to  the  field 
rvilh  his  iron  troopers  elated  with  their  success  over  Sir  Marmaduke  Lang- 
iale'a  division,  and  charged  the  flank  of  the  main  body  of  the  royalists  so 
ieicely  as  to  throw  them  into  hopeless  and  irremediable  confusion.    Ru. 


684 


THE  TllEASUJlY  OF  HI3T0K7 


port  now  returned  with  his  cavalry  and  joined  the  king's  reservn ,  but 
the  fate  of  the  day  was  soaled  ;  not  even  the  gallantry  of  that  a:bl«5  corn- 
inandcr  could  lead  the  reserve  to  tlie  support  of  the  beaten  and  fugitive 
host  of  tlie  royalists,  and  the  king  was  obliged  to  fly  from  the  field,  leav- 
ing his  artillery  and  valuable  baggage,  as  well  as  Ave  thousand  prisoners, 
in  the  hands  of  the  victorious  parliamentarians. 

Nor  did  the  advantages  to  the  victor  end  even  there.     The  defeat  of  the 
king  and  the  magnitude  of  the  losses  he  had  sustained  greatly  aided  the 

Earliamentarians  in  reducing  the  chief  fortified  places  in  the  kingdom, 
rislol,  Bridgewater,  Chester,  Sherborne,  and  Bath  fell  into  their  hands; 
Exeter  was  closely  invested  by  Fairfax,  and  held  out  gallantly,  but  at 
length  was  obliged  to  surrender  at  discretion,  ali  the  western  counties 
being  so  completely  cleared  of  the  ki'.g's  troops  that  there  was  not  the 
slightest  chance  of  its  being  reliever'. 

In  all  the  aspects  of  his  fortune  Charles  had  found  the  yity  of  Oxford 
loyal  and  devoted.  As  well  became  that  city  of  science  and  learning,  it 
had  constantly  shown  itself  "  glad  in  his  prosperity  and  sad  in  his  sor- 
row," and  thither  he  retreated  in  his  present  misfortune,  well  knowino' 
that  there  he  would  be  loyally  received,  and  hoping  that  even  yet  he  might 
by  negotiation  retrieve  some  of  the  sad  loss  he  had  experienced  in  the 
field.  But  the  unfortunate  king  was  closely  pursued  by  Fairfax,  at  the 
head  of  a  victorious  army  eager  for  yet  farther  triumph  over  the  defeated 
sovereign ;  and  as  the  parliamentarians  loudly  expressed  their  intention 
of  laying  siege  to  Oxford,  and  were  abundantly  supplied  with  everythin" 
rofjuisite  for  that  purpose,  (Jharles  had  several,  and  very  cogent  reasons 
for  not  abiding  there.  That  the  loyal  inhabitants  of  Oxford  would  defend 
him  to  the  utmost,  Charles  had  no  room  to  doubt ;  but  neither  could  there 
be  any  doubt  that  the  well  known  loyalty  of  the  city  would,  on  that  very 
score,  be  most  signally  punished  by  the  parliamentarians.  Moreover, 
(Charles  had  a  most  justifiable  and  well-grounded  horror  of  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  English  puritans,  from  whom,  especially  now  that  they  were 
full  and  freshly  flushed  with  victory,  he  might  fear  every  insult,  even  to 
the  extent  of  personal  violence.  Reasoning  thus,  and  believing  that  the 
Scottisli  army  was  less  personally  and  inveterately  hostile  to  him,  Charles 
took  what  proved  to  be  the  fatal  resolution,  of  delivering  himself  into  the 
hands  of  the  Scots.  To  their  eternal  disgrace,  they  received  him  as  a 
distressed  king  only  to  treat  him  as  a  malefactor  and  a  prisoner.  They 
worried  and  insulted  him  with  sanctimonious  remonstrances  artd  reflec- 
tions, by  every  possible  neglect  of  the  respectful  ceremonials  due  to  a 
sovereign ;  they  reminded  him  of  and  imbittered  his  misfortunes ;  and,  to 
complete  the  infamy  of  their  conduct,  they  added  gross  venality  to  faith- 
lessness and  disloyalty,  and  literally  sold  him  to  the  rebellious  English 
parliament  for  the  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  pounds ! 

With  this  atrocious  act  the  Scots  returned  to  their  country,  laden 
with  ill-earned  wealth,  but  laden  also  with  the  execration  of  ?11  good  men, 
and  with  the  contempt  even  of  those  bold  bad  men  to  whoi,>  they  had 
basely  sold  the  unfortunate  prince.  Wholly  and  helplessly  in  he  power 
of  his  foes,  Charles  had  no  course  left  to  so  honourable  a  mind  as  his,  but 
to  absolve  his  still  faithful  followers  and  subjects  from  the  duty  of  farther 
striving  in  his  behalf,  and  to  trust  for  the  safety  of  even  his  life  to  the 
mercy  of  men 

"Whose  mercy  was  a  nickname  for  the  rage       r^  _       /,       J    .     i 
Of  tameless  tigers  hungering  for  blood." 

But  if  the  rebellious  parliamentarians  were  triumphant  over  their  king 
they  had  yet  to  deal  with  a  more  formidable  enemy.  The  parliament  had 
been  made  unanimous  in  itself  and  with  the  army  by  the  obvious  and 
pressing  necessity  for  mutual  defence,  as  long  as  the  king  was  in  the 
field  and  at  the  head  of  an  imposing  force.    But  now  that  the  fortune  0/ 


->^ 


fiiii?  rally  ., 
foriniiijr  sue 
'''iig.  when  t 

•iisitdvaiitage 
ffleiit,  includ 
Misteiice, 
who  w  the  bi 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY 


585 


war  and  ihc  base  venality  of  tlie  Scotch  li;i(l  inaih;  Chailcs  ;i  powerless 
811(1  alinotfl  hopeless  captive,  th(!  spoilers  hegaii  to  (pr.irri-l  uhoul  ilin  dis- 
po(<itioi)  uf  the  spoil ;  and  they  who  had  uiiitnd  to  rt;voli  from  their  law> 
ful  monareh  were  ready  with  equal  eagerm'ss  and  annnitsiiy  to  cabal 
aifiiinst  eueh  other.  There  is  a  sure  relnhutive  eurse  attendant  npon  all 
needless  and  groundless  dissent — ils  i'  .lulion  of  a  real  '.md  an  abiding 
bond  of  union.  The  civilians  of  tin;  parliamentary  party  were,  for  the 
most  part,  presbylerians,  who  were  eager  enough  to  throw  otf  all  iiUcgi- 
aiice  to  the  king  and  all  submission  and  respe(;t  to  tiio  cliurcli  of  Kuglaud, 
but  who  were  not  the  less  inclined  to  set  up  and  exact  respect,  both  from 
lay  and  clerical  authorities  of  their  own  liking.  Tlie  laiiatitv.sm  of  the 
army  took  quite  another  turn;  they  wen;  mostly  independents,  who 
thought,  with  Dogberry,  that  "  rcadiii<r  and  wriliny  eonie  by  nature,"  and 
were  ready  to  die  upon  tht;  trutli  of  tiie  most  ii^norant  trooper  among  them 
being  qualified  to  preach  with  soul-saving  etTect  to  iiis  equally  ignorant  fel- 
low. The  independents,  armed  and  well  skilled  in  arms,  would  under 
any  conceivable  circnnistance  have  been  somel!iing  more  llian  a  match 
for  the  mere  dreamers  and  declaimers  of  parliament ;  but  they  had  a  still 
further  and  decisive  advantage  in  the  active  and  en(!rgoti(;,  tiiongh  wily 
and  secret,  prompting  and  direction  of  Cromwell,  who  artfully  professed 
himself  the  most  staunch  independent  of  them  of  all,  and  showed  himself 
as  willing  and  able,  too,  to  lead  them  to  the  chargt;  and  the  victory  upon 
the  well-fought  field.  He  was,  in  appearance,  indeed,  oidy  second  in 
command  under  Fairfax,  but,  in  reality,  he  was  supreme  over  his  nominal 
commander,  and  had  the  fate  of  both  king  and  kingdom  completidy  in  his 
own  hands.  He  artfully  and  carefully  fomented  the  jealousy  with  which 
the  military  looked  upon  their  own  comparative  poworlessness  and  ob- 
scurity after  all  the  dangers  and  toils  by  which  they  had,  as  they  affected 
to  believe,  permanently  secured  the  peace  and  comfort  of  the  country. 

Without  appearing  to  make  any  exertion  or  to  use  any  influence,  the 
artful  intriguer  urged  the  soldiery  so  far,  that  they  openly  lost  all  confi- 
dence in  the  parliament  for  which  they  had  but  too  well  fought,  and  set 
about  the  consideration  and  redress  of  their  own  grievances  as  a  separate 
and  ill-used  body  of  the  community.  Still,  at  the  nistigation  of  Cromwell, 
I  rude  but  efficient  military  parliament  was  formed,  the  principal  officers 
acting  as  a  house  of  peers,  and  two  men  or  officers  from  each  regiment 
acting  as  a  house  of  commons,  under  the  title  of  the  "  agitators  of  the 
urmy."  Of  these  Cromwell  took  care  to  be  one,  and  thus,  while  to  all 
appearance  he  was  only  acting  as  he  was  authorized  and  commanded  by 
ins  duty  to  the  whole  army,  he  in  fact  enjoyed  all  the  opportunity  that  he 
required  to  suggest  and  forward  measures  indispensable  to  the  gratifica- 
tion of  his  own  ambition. 

While  Cromwell  was  thus  wickedly  but  ably  scheming,  the  king,  forlorn 
and  seemingly  forgotten,  lay  in  Holmby  castle,  strictly  watched,  though, 
js  yet,  owing  to  the  dissensions  that  existed  between  the  army  and  the 
pariiiment,  not  subjected  to  any  farther  indignities.  From  tliis  state  of 
comparative  tranquillity  the  unhappy  Charles  was  aroused  by  a  coup  de 
main,  highly  characteristic  alike  of  the  boldness  and  shrewdness  of  Crom- 
well. He  demonstrated  to  his  confidants  of  the  army  that  the  possession 
of  the  king's  person  must  needs  give  a  vast  preponderance  to  any  of  the 
existing  parties.  The  royalists,  it  was  obvious,  would  at  the  order  of  the 
king  rally  round  him,  even  in  conjunction  with  the  parliament,  which  by 
forming  such  a  junction  could  at  any  moment  command  the  pardon  of  the 
king,  when  the  army,  besides  other  difficulties,  would  be  placed  in  the 
disadvantageous  position  of  fighting  against  all  branches  of  the  govern- 
ment, including  even  that  one  to  whose  will  and  arthurity  it  owed  its  own 
existence.  As  usual,  his  arguments  were  successful,  and  Cornet  Joyce, 
who  »t  the  breaking  out  of  the  rebellion  had  >eer.  only  h  tailor,  was  dis  • 


bm 


THE  THEA8UIIY  OF  HISTORY. 


patched  with  fivn  hundred  cavalry  to  Hri/c  tlic  kiiig*ii  person  at  Holmhy 
caatle.  Though  strictly  walchcil,  ihc  kiiij,'  was  but  HhMuicrly  guarded,  („f 
the  parliament  had  no  Nuspicion  (if  the  pruliability  of  any  Huch  uilcuipt  on 
the  part  of  the  army.  Cornet  Joyce,  therefore,  found  no  dilTlcnlty  in  ob- 
taininif  accens  to  the  king,  to  whom  he  made  known  tlic  purport  of  hii 
mission.  Surprised  at  this  sudden  determination  to  remove  hnn  to  the 
headquarters  of  the  army,  the  king,  with  some  anxiety,  asked  Joyce  to 
produce  his  commission  for  so  extraordinary  a  proceeding,  and  Joyce, 
with  the  petulenee  of  a  man  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  elevated,  ponitii 
to  his  troops,  drawn  up  before  the  window.     "  A  goodly  cummission,"  re- 

J  lied  Charles,  "  and  written  in  fair  characters ;"  he  then  accompanied 
oyce  to  Triplo-heath  near  Cambridge,  the  head-quartera  of  the  army. 
Fairfax  and  other  discerning  and  moderate  men  had  by  this  time  begun  to 
see  the  danger  the  country  was  in  from  the  utter  abasement  of  the  kingly 
power,  and  to  wish  for  such  an  accommodation  as  might  secure  the  nco. 
pie  without  destroying  the  king.  But  Cromwell's  bold  seizure  uf  lii!i 
majesty  had  enabled  him  to  throw  off  the  mask;  the  violent  and  fanatit^al 
spirit  of  the  soldiery  was  wholly  subjected  to  him,  and  on  his  arrival  at 
Triplo-heath,  on  the  day  after  the  king  was -taken  thither  by  Joyce,  Crom. 
well  was  by  acdaniation  elected  to  the  supreme  command  of  the  army. 

Though,  at  the  outset,  the  parliament  was  wholly  opposed  to  the  exor- 
bitant prclonsions  of  the  army,  the  success  of  Cromwell's  machinations 
rendered  that  opposition  less  unanimous  atid  compact  every  day,  and  at 
length  there  was  a  cotisiderable  majority  of  parliament,  including  the  two 
speakers,  in  favour  of  the  army.  To  encourage  this  portion  of  the  par- 
liament, tlic  liead-quarters  of  the  army  were  fixed  at  Hounslow-hoath; 
and  as  the  debates  in  the  house  daily  grew  more  violent  and  threatening, 
sixty-two  members,  with  the  two  speakers,  fled  to  the  camp  at  Hounslow, 
and  formally  threw  themselves,  officially  and  personally,  upon  the  protic- 
lion  of  the  army.  This  accession  to  his  moral  force  was  so  welcome  lo 
Cromwell,  that  he  caused  the  members  to  be  received  with  a  perfect  lu 
mult  of  applause ;  and  he  ordered  that  the  troops,  twenty  thousand  in  mnn- 
ber,  should  move  upon  London  to  restore  these  fugitives  to  the  place 
which  they  had  voluntarily  ceded  and  the  duties  they  had  timorously  fled 
from. 

While  the  one  portion  of  the  house  had  fled  to  the  protection  of  the 
soldiers,  the  other  portion  had  made  some  demonstrations  of  bringing  tlie 
struggle  against  the  pretensions  of  the  army  to  an  issue  in  the  field.  New 
speakers  were  chosen  in  the  place  '•f  the  fugitives,  orders  were  given  lo 
enlist  new  troops,  and  the  train-bands  were  ordered  to  the  defence  of  the 
lines  that  enclosed  the  city.  But  when  Cromwell  with  twenty  thousand 
trained  and  unsparing  troops  arrived,  the  impossibility  of  any  hastily  or- 
ganized defence  being  available  against  him  became  painfully  evident. 
The  gates  were  thrown  open,  Cromwell  restored  the  speakers  and  the 
members  of  parliament,  several  of  the  opposite  members  were  arbitrarily 
expelled  the  house,  the  mayor  of  London,  with  three  aldermen  and  llie 
sheriffs,  were  committed  to  the  Tower,  other  prisons  were  crowded  with 
citizens  and  militia  officers,  and  the  city  lines  were  levelled,  the  more 
effectually  to  prevent  any  future  resistance  to  the  sovereign  will  and  pleas- 
ure of  the  armj',  or,  rather,  of  its  master-spirit,  Cromwell 


CHAPTER  LIL 

THE    REIGN   UF   CHARLES  I.  (CONCLUDED). 

The  king  on  being  seized  by  the  army  was  sent  as  a  prisoner  to  his 
palace  at-  Hampton  court.    Here,  though  closely  watched,  he  was  allowed 


TUB  TRKA8URY  OF  HIi^TOHY. 


687 


the  accns!)  of  his  rrioiul!*  and  nil  rariliticH  for  tir(;i)tio.iii(r  with  pirli.-xnioiit. 
lint,  III  truth,  the  iicj^ittialiii);  parties  had  stoud  upon  li'iiiis  whicli  uhnost 
iii'iTiisarily  caui^ud  dmtruHt  uii  tht;  one  hand  and  iiiciMciTity  on  the  other. 
Completely  divested  of  power  as  Charh's  now  was,  it  seems  prol)HhJe 
eiioiii(li  that  he  would  proinisu  more  than  he  had  any  iiUentiDii  of  perform- 
iti;r,  wiiile  the  Icathntr  men  on  the  other  side  could  not  hni  feel  that  their 
viTV  live. -4  would  depend  upon  his  sineerity  from  the  instant  that  lie  should 
be  restored  to  liherty  and  the  exercise  of  his  authority.  Mere  would  have 
hpeii  quite  stifTieient  ditficulty  ill  the  way  of  sueeessfiil  iiejfotialioii ;  hut, 
I),  idea  that,  Cromwell's  plans  were  perpetually  traversing  the  efforts  of 
iht  kiiiif  when  his  majesty  was  sincere,  while  (-romwell's  active  espion- 
age never  allowcid  any  flagrant  insincerity  to  escape  detection.  The 
king  at  length  perceived  the  inutility  of  negotiation,  and  made  his  escape 
t.j  the  Isle  of  Wight.  Here  he  hoped  to  remain  undistnrhed  until  he 
coulil  either  escape  to  the  continent  or  receive  such  succours  thence  as 
niii^lit  enable  him,  at  least,  to  negotiate  with  the  parliament  upon  more 
equal  terms,  if  nut  a(!tually  to  try  his  fortune  anew  in  the  ticld.  Uut 
Colonel  Hammond,  the  governor  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  though  he  in  some 
respects  treated  the  unfortunate  king  with  humanity,  made  him  prisoner, 
and  after  being  for  some  time  confined  in  Carisbrook  (vasth;,  the  unfortu- 
nate Charles  was  sent  in  custody  to  his  royal  castle  of  Windsor,  where  he 
was  wholly  in  the  power  of  the  army. 

Cromwell  and  those  who  acted  with  him  saw  very  plainly  that  the 
mere  anxiety  of  the  parliainont  to  depress  the  prtEtoriaii  bands  which 
themselves  had  called  into  evil  and  gigantic  power,  was  very  likely  to 
lead  to  an  accommodation  with  the  king,  whose  own  sense  of  his  immi- 
iii'Mt  danger  could  not  fail  to  render  him,  also,  anxious  for  an  early  8(!ltle- 
ment  of  all  disputes.  The  artful  leaders  of  the  army  faction,  therefore, 
now  encouraged  their  dupes  and  tools  of  the  lower  sort  to  throw  off  the 
mask;  and  raiiid  yells  for  the  punmhinenl  of  the  king  arose  on  all  sides. 
Peace  and  security  had  hitherto  been  the  cry ;  it  was  now  changed  to  a 
cry  for  vengeance.  From  Windsor  the  unhappy  king  was  conveycMl  to 
Hurst-castle,  on  the  coast  of  Hampshire,  and  opposite  to  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
chiefly,  it  should  seem  to  render  communication  between  him  and  liie  par- 
liamentary leaders  more  dilatory  and  difficult.  But  the  parliament,  grow- 
ing more  and  more  anxious  for  an  accommodation  in  precise  proportion 
as  it  was  rendered  more  and  more  impracticable,  again  opened  a  negotiation 
with  the  ill-treated  monarch,  and  despite  the  clamours  and  threats  of  the 
fanatical  soldiery,  seemed  upon  the  very  point  of  bringing  it  to  a  conclu- 
sion, when  a  new  coup  de  main  on  the  part  of  Cromwell  extinguislicd  all 
hope  in  the  bosoms  of  the  loyal  and  the  just.  Perceiving  that  the  obsti- 
nacy of  the  parliament  and  the  unhappy  vacillation  of  the  king  could  no 
longer  be  relied  upon,  Cromwell  sent  two  regiments  of  his  soldiery,  un- 
der the  command  of  Colonel  Pride,  to  blockade  the  house  of  coininons. 
Forty-one  members  who  were  favourable  to  accommodation  were  actuall)' 
imprisoned  in  a  lower  room  of  the  house,  a  hundred  and  sixty  wtfre  inso- 
lently ordered  to  go  to  their  homes  and  attend  to  their  private  affairs,  and 
only  about  sixty  members  were  allowed  to  enter  the  house,  the  whole  of 
tiiose  being  furious  and  bigoted  independents,  the  pledged  and  deadly  ene- 
mies of  the  king,  and  the  mere  and  servile  tools  of  Cromwell  and  the 
army.  This  parliamentary  clearance  was  facetiously  called  "Pride's 
purge,"  and  the  members  who  had  the  disgraceful  distinction  of  being 
deemed  fit  for  Cromwell's  dirty  work,  ever  after  passed  under  the  title  of 
•'the  ruiTip." 

With  a  really  ludicrous  impudence  this  contemptible  assembly  assumed 
to  itself  the  whole  power  and  character  of  the  parliament,  voted  that  all 
that  had  been  done  towards  an  accommodation  with  the  king  was  illegal, 
and  that  his  seizure  and  imprisonineiu  by  "the  general" — so  Cromwell 


»M 


THK  TREASURY  OF  HIHTORY. 


w,i3  now  tormni!,  par  ^icrllcner—vivw.  yint  iinil  praiH«!\vorlhy.  All  mnclor. 
nlioii  wiiH  ttiri)wn  to  the  wiiiiIh,  ami  uh  tlio  actual  private  murder  of  ihg 
kin^  waH  ItuMiiijIit  likely  tii  dciriiMl  tli(!  Ix'tter  men  even  amoni;  the  faiiuti. 
eal  Moldicry,  a  commiltet;  of  '•  ilie  riim|)"  parliament  was  formed  to  fliucsi 
a  cliar),')!  of  high  treaHon.  It  would  seem  that  the  Huhtieiit  caiiuiRt  would 
be  pu/./led  to  make  out  such  a  char((i!  ii^ainnt  a  king ;  and  OHpeiMally  m 
Hn  age  when  monareiiy  ii»  Ktigland  wan  ho  newly  and  no  imperfcrily  l<u^. 
it(!d.  Hut  "  the  rump  was  composed  of  nu'n  who  knew  no  diffltully  o| 
the  moral  sort.  'Die  kin)(,  (noHt  ri<{hifully,  Kud  Hupported  hy  the  inost 
illustriouH  of  his  nohles  and  the  wialthieHt  and  most  loving  of  hiv  gentry, 
had  drawn  the  sword  to  reduce  to  order  and  peace  a  rahid  and  grccijy 
faction,  whieh  threatened  his  crown  and  tore  the  vitals  of  hitt  country. 
And  this  Justifiahh!,  thoiijrh  sad  and  lamentable  exertion  of  force,  after  nil 
milder  means  had  failed,  *' the  riunp"  now  charged  against  the  king  as 
treason ;  a  treason  of  a  kind  never  before  dreanuid  of,  ii  levying  war 
against  his  parliament!  Surely,  the  unhappy  Charles  had  now  but  too 
much  reason  to  regret  that  he  had  not  by  a  just  severity  to  Lord  Kinibol. 
ton  and  his  five  co-accused  fire-brands,  crushed  this  venomous  parliament 
while  yet  hn  had  the  power  to  do  so! 

As  there  was  now  no  longer,  thanks  to  •'  Pride's  purge,"  a  chance  of 
further  negotiation,  it  was  determined  that  the  hapless  king  should  be 
brought  from  Murst-castle  to  Windsor.  Colonel  Harrison,  a  half  insane 
and  wholly  brutal  fanatic,  the  son  of  a  butcher,  was  entrusted  with  this 
commission  ;  (diietly,  perhaps,  because  it  was  well  understood  that  he 
would  rather  slay  the  royal  captive  with  his  own  hand  than  allow  him  to 
be  rescued.  After  a  brief  stay  at  Windsor,  the  king  was  once  again  re 
moved  to  London,  and  his  altered  appearance  was  such  as  would  have 
excited  commisseration  in  the  breasts  of  any  but  the  callous  and  inexor- 
able creatures  in  whose  hands  he  was.  His  features  were  haggard,  liis 
beard  long  and  neglected,  his  hair  blanched  to  a  ghastly  whiteness  by  suf. 
ferinirs  that  seemed  to  have  fully  doubled  his  age  ;  and  the  boding  melan- 
choly that  had  characterised  his  features,  even  in  his  happier  days,  was 
now  deepened  down  to  an  apparent  yet  resigned  sadness  that  was  painful 
to  all  humane  beholders. 

Sir  Philip  Warwick,  an  old  and  broken  man,  but  faithful  and  loyal  to 
the  last,  was  the  king's  chief  attendant ;  and  he  and  the  few  subordinates 
who  were  allowed  to  approach  the  royal  person  were  now  brutally  ordered 
to  serve  the  king  without  any  of  the  accustomed  forms ;  and  all  exl(  rnal 
symbols  of  state  and  majesty  were,  at  the  same  time,  withdrawn  with  a 
petty  yet  malignant  carefulness. 

Even  these  cruelties  and  insults  could  not  convince  the  king  that  his 
enemies  would  le  guilty  of  the  enormous  absurdity  of  bringing  their 
sovereign  to  a  formal  trial.  Calm,  just,  and  clear-sighted  himself,  he 
could  not  comprehend  how  even  his  fanatical  and  boorish  enemies  could, 
in  the  face  of  day,  so  manifestly  bid  defiance  not  only  to  all  law  and  all 
precedent,  but  also  to  the  plainest  maxims  of  common  sense.  But  though 
almost  to  the  very  day  of  his  trial  the  king  refused  to  believe  that  his 
enemies  would  dare  to  try  him,  he  did  believe  that  they  intended  to 
assassinate  him,  and  in  every  meal  of  which  he  partook  he  imagined  that 
he  saw  the  instrument  of  his  death. 

A.  D.  1648. — In  the  meantime,  the  king's  enemies  were  actively  making 
preparations  for  the  most  extraordinary  trial  ever  witnessed  in  Engrland. 
These  preparations  were  so  extensive  that  they  occupied  a  vast  number  0/ 
persons  from  the  sixth  to  the  twentieth  of  January.  As  if  the  more  fully 
to  convince  the  king  of  their  earnestness  in  the  matter,  Cromwell  and  the 
rump,  when  they  had  named  a  high  court  of  justice,  consisting  of  a  hun- 
dred and  thirty-three  persons,  ordered  the  duke  of  Hamilton,  whom  they 
had  doomed  to  death  for  his  unshaken  loyalty  to  his  sovereign,  to  be  ad- 


TirR  TURAMUllY  OV  HHTOilY. 


MO 


>(  iha 

would 
My  in 
y  l\m- 
jUy  ol 

;    IIIOKt 

gentry, 

urcfMy 
i)Ui\try. 

ifUTllll 

kiii(;  '.til 
,ii|^  war 
l)tit  too 
Kiinbul- 
rlukiiieiit 

haiice  o( 
Itould  be 
if  insane 
with  Ihis 
,  tliiit  lie 
w  him  to 
again  rc« 
luld  have 
[d  inexor- 
ggard,  his 
ss  by  suf. 
iig  uielaiv 
days,  was 
as  painful 

d  loyal  to 

Dordinales 

|ly  ordered 

1  external 

11  with  a 

hg  that  his 
ging  their 
liinself,  he 
lies  could, 
IrtW  and  all 
■ut  though 
[e  that  his 
itended  to 
igiiied  that 

Lly  making 

li  Englaiitl- 
T number  of 

1  more  fully 
|ell  and  tlie 
of  a  hull- 
j^hom  they 
L  to  be  ad- 


mittril  10  t;>kp  Wavv  of  \\w  kiiijj  at  WiiwNor.  Tlie  iiit<rvip\v  \r,\»  a  hur. 
niMiiiK  one.  'I'liu  duke  had  i'mt  Ix'fii  rividy  tn  pitir  out  Iiim  I)|i  od  iikn 
tv.iti*r  for  hit)  MoviTfiKii :  even  ikiw  \\v  frit  nut  fur  hiniN'lf,  Init,  iimviil  to 
'I'iirs  l»y  III"'  Hail  aUfralioii  m  tin'  imtmoii  of  ClmrliH,  tlirrw  ii.rnwi'lf  al  llii> 
riiynl  vieliin'n  fi'rt,  cxclnimiiiKt  "My  dear  masliT!"  "AlaMl"  naid  thr 
wri'iiiiiK  kiuff,  »!*  Ii)'  raiHcd  up  Ins  faithful  and  dcvutcd  McrvMiit,  "  Ala,>t !  I 
have,  iiidced,  lit'cii  a  dear  master  to  you  I"  Ternlile,  at  tins  nuHnenl,  miiMt 
liave  hern  the  king's  r.elf  reproacheH  for  the  opportiinitiest  he  had  ne^'leeted 
of  puttiiiK  down  tilt'  wrutelies  who  now  had  hi«  faithful  servant  and  hnn- 
M'lf  in  their  power! 

Of  the  per^«oll!i  named  to  sit  in  the  hijrh  eourt  of  juNtiee,  hh  this  shame 
fully  unjust  and  ini<piitous  coterie  was  Impudeiilly  termiNl,  only  about 
dcventy,  or  scarcely  more  than  one  half,  could  he  uot  loartlier  at  any  one 
time  duriiiu;  the  trial.  Low  citi/.<Mis,  fanatical  mciiiiicrs  of  the  rumi),  and 
servile  olllcers  of  the  army,  composed  the  majority  of  those  who  (lid  at- 
leiul,  and  it  was  hefore  this  wretched  assemhiy  that  tin?  lc!,MliinaIe  sov- 
"reign  of  the  lan>!,  now  removed  from  Windsor  to  St.  Janus,  was  placed 
(0  niidcri^o  the  insulting  mockery  of  a  trial. 

The  court,  "tliehiijli  court  of  justice"  thus  oddly  constituted,  met  ia 
VVesiininsti'r  hall.  The  trdents  and  firmness  of  Charles  were  «'veii  now 
too  much  respected  by  Cromwell  and  the  shrewdiir  nieinhers  of  "the 
rump"  to  allow  of  their  opposing  this  inisc^rabh;  court  to  him  without  the 
ablest  procurable  aid;  Uiadshaw,  a  lawyer  of  considerable  ability,  was 
tlierefoic  a|)poinled  president,  ancl  Coke,  solicitor  for  the  people  of  Kng 
land,  with  Steel,  Aske,  and  Dorislaiis  for  his  assistants. 

When  led  by  a  miico-bearer  to  a  seat  within  the  bar,  the  king  seated 
himself  with  his  hat  on,  and  looked  sternly  around  him  at  the  traitors  who 
airt'cted  to  be  his  compelent  judges.  Coke  then  read  the  charge  against 
liim,  and  the  king's  melancholy  countenance  was  momcuitarily  lighted  up 
with  a  manlv  and  just  scorn  as  he  heard  himself  gravely  accused  of  hav- 
ing been  "  the  cause  of  all  the  bloodshed  which  had  followed  since  the 
comincncemenl  of  the  war!" 

When  Coke  had  finished  making  his  formal  charge,  the  president,  Brad- 
.shaw,  addressed  the  king,  and  called  upon  him  to  answer  to  the  accusation 
which  he  had  lieard  made  against  him. 

Though  the  countenance  of  'hari^s  fully  expressed  the  natural  and 
lofty  indignation  that  he  fel'  oeing  called  upon  to  plead  as  a  mer<'  felon 
hefore  a  court  composed  no;  merely  of  simple  commoners,  but,  to  a  very 
ureal  extent, of  the  mosi  i<;iiArant  and  least  honourable  men  in  their  ranks 
01  life,  he  admirably  prvst-iv.d  his  temper,  and  addressed  himself  to  his 
task  with  earnest  and  irave  argument.  He  said  thnt,  conscious  as  he  was 
of  innocence,  hesho«!  1  rejoice  at  an  opportunity  of  justifying  his  conduct 
in  every  particular  Ivefore  a  competent  tribunal,  but  as  he  was  not  inclined 
«o  become  the  betrayer  instead  of  the  defender  of  the  constitution,  he  must 
at  this,  the  very  first  stage  of  the  proceedings,  wholly  and  positivt  ly  re- 
pudiate the  aiitliority  of  the  court  before  which  he  had  been  as  illegally 
hrought,  as  the  court  itself  was  illegally  constituted.  V^  her*'  was  there 
pvou  the  shadow  of  the  upper  house!  Without  it  tliere  cot  i  le  no  Just 
tribunal,  parliamentary  or  appointed  by  parliament.  He  was  nilerrupted, 
too,  for  the  purposes  of  this  illegal  trial  just  as  he  was  on  the  ,)oint  of  con- 
cluding a  treaty  with  both  houses  of  parliament,  a  moment  at  which  he 
iurely  had  a  right  to  expect  anything  rather  than  the  violent  and  unjust 
treatment  that  he  had  experienced.  He,  it  could  not  be  denied,  was  the 
king  and  fountain  of  law,  and  could  not  be  tried  by  laws  to  which  he  had 
not  given  his  authority  ;  and  it  would  ill  become  him,  who  was  entrusted 
with  the  liberties  of  the  people,  to  betray  them  by  even  a  formal  and  tacit 
recognition  of  a  tribunal  which  could  not  possibly  possess  any  other  than 
1  merely  usurped  powei. 


500 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


Brarlshaw,  the  president,  affected  much  surprise  and  indignation  at  the 
king's  repudiation  of  the  tnock  eourt  of  justice  which,  he  said,  received 
its  power  and  authority  from  the  source  of  all  right,  the  people.  When 
the  king  attempted  to  repeat  his  dear  and  cogent  objection,  BradshHw 
rudely  intorrupted  and  despotically  overruled  him.  But,  if  silenced  by 
clamour,  the  king  was  not  to  be  turned  aside  from  his  course  by  the  mere 
repetition  of  a  bold  fallacy.  Again  and  again  he  was  brought  before  thin 
mock  tribunal,  and  again  and  again  he  baffled  all  attempts  at  making  him, 
by  pleading  to  it,  give  it  some  shadow  of  lawful  authority.  The  conduct 
of  the  rabble  without  was  fully  worthy  of  the  conduct  of  their  self-con- 
stituted governors  within  the  court.  As  the  king  proceeded  to  the  court 
he  was  assailed  with  brutal  yells  for  what  the  wicked  or  deluded  men 
called  "justice."  But  neither  the  mob  nor  their  instigators  could  induce 
him  to  plead,  and  the  iniquitous  court  at  length  called  some  complaisant 
witnesses  to  swear  that  the  king  had  appeared  in  arms  against  forces  com- 
missioned by  parliament ;  and  upon  this  fallacy  of  evidence,  sentence  of 
death  was  pronounced  against  him.  We  call  the  evidence  a  mere  fallacy, 
because  it  amounted  to  nothing  unless  backed  by  the  gross  and  monstrous 
assumption  that  the  parliament  could  lawfully  commission  any  forces 
without  the  order  and  permission  of  the  king  himself,  and  the  no  less 
glaring  assumption  that  the  king  could  act  illegally  in  putting  down  rebel- 
lious gatherings  of  born  subjects. 

After  receiving  his  sentence  Charles  was  more  violently  abused  by  the 
rabble  outside  than  he  had  even  formerly  been.  "  Execution"  was  loudly 
demanded,  and  one  filthy  and  unmanly  ruffian  actually  spat  in  his  face, 
a  beastly  indignity  which  the  king  bore  with  a  sedate  and  august  pity, 
merely  ejaculating,  "  Poor  creatures,  they  would  serve  their  generals  in 
the  same  manner  for  a  sixpence  !" 

To  the  honour  of  the  nation  be  it  said,  these  vi.e  :nsults  of  the  baser 
rabble  were  strongly  contrasted  by  the  respectful  compassion  of  the  belter 
informed.  Many  of  them,  including  some  of  the  m'litarj',  openly  ex 
pressed  their  regret  for  the  sufferings  of  the  king  and  the.  disgust  at  the 
conduct  of  his  persecutors.  One  soldier  loudly  prayed  a  blessing  on  tha 
royal  head,  and  the  honest  prayer  being  overhears  by  a  fanatical  olliccr, 
he  struck  the  soldier  to  the  ground.  The  king,  mote  ifiigiiant  at  this 
outrage  on  the  loyal  soldier  than  he  had  been  at  ai.  the  unmanly  insults 
that  had  been  heaped  upon  himself,  turned  to  the  officer  and  sharply  told 
him  that  the  punishment  very  much  exceeded  the  offence. 

On  returning  to  Whitehall,  where  he  had  been  lodged  during  the  mock 
trial,  Charles  wrote  to  the  so-called  house  of  commons,  and  requested 
that  he  might  be  allowed  to  see  those  of  his  children  who  were  in  Eng- 
land, and  to  have  the  assistance  of  Dr.  Juxon,  the  deprived  bishop  of  Lon- 
don, in  preparing  for  the  fate  which  he  now  clearly  saw  awaited  him. 
F]ven  his  fanatical  enemies  dared  not  refuse  these  requests,  but  at  the 
same  time  that  they  were  jfranted  he  was  informed  that  his  execution 
would  take  place  in  three  days. 

The  queen,  the  prince  of  Wales,  and  the  duke  of  York  were  happily 
abroad :  but  the  princess  Elizabeth  and  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  a  child 
not  much  more  than  three  years  old,  were  brought  into  the  presence  of 
their  unhappy  parent.  The  interview  was  most  affecting,  for,  ycung  as 
the  children  were,  they  but  too  well  comprehended  the  sad  calamity  that 
was  about  to  befal  them.  The  king,  among  the  many  exhortations  svliich 
he  endeavoured  to  adapt  to  the  understanding  of  his  infant  son,  said,  "  My 
child,  they  will  cut  off  my  head,  and  when  they  have  done  that  they  will 
want  to  make  you  king.  But  now  mark  well  what  I  say,  you  must  iievei 
consent  to  be  king  while  your  brothers  Charles  and  James  are  alive 
They  will  cut  off  their  heads  if  they  can  take  them,  and  they  will  after 
wards  cut  off  your  head,  and  therefore  I  charge  you  do  not  be  made  i 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


591 


kiiiir  by  them."  The  noble  little  fellow,  havinjj  listoiied  attentively  to  all 
ili:ii  Ilia  fiithur  said  to  liim,  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears  and  exclaimed, 
''  I  won't  be  a  king ;  I  will  be  torn  in  pieces  first." 

Short  as  the  interval  was  between  the  conclusion  of  the  mock  trial  of 
the  king  and  his  murder,  great  efforts  were  made  to  save  him,  and  among 
otlitTs  was  that  of  the  prince  of  Wales  sending  a  blank  paper,  signed  and 
seiiled  by  himself,  accompanied  by  a  letter,  in  which  he  o5ered  permis- 
sion to  tho  parliament  to  insert  whatever  terms  it  pleased  for  the  redemp- 
tion of  liis  father's  life.  But  there  was  an  under-current  at  work  of  which 
both  the  king  and  liis  attached  friends  were  fatally  ignorant.  The  real 
cause  of  Itic  murder  of  Charles  I.  was  the  excessive  personal  terror  of 
Oliver  Cromwell.  This  we  state  on  an  indisputably  legitimate  deduction 
from  an  anecilole  related  by  Cromwell  himself;  and  the  anecdote  is  so 
curious  and  so  characteristic  of  Cromwell  that  we  subjoin  it.  In  truth,  how 
broad  a  light  does  this  anecdote  throw  on  this  most  shameful  portion 
of  Kiiglish  history  I 

While  the  king  was  still  at  Windsor  and  allowed  to  correspond  both 
with  llie  parliament  and  his  distant  friends,  it  is  but  too  clear  that  he  al- 
lowed the  vile  character  and  proceedings  of  his  opponent  to  warp  his  nat- 
urally liijih  character  from  the  direcrt  and  inflexible  honesty  which  is  pro- 
verbially and  truly  said  to  be  the  best  policy.  Vacillation  and  a  desire  to 
make  use  of  subterfuge  were  apparent  even  in  his  direct  dealings  with 
llie  parliament,  and  would  have  tended  to  have  prolonged  the  negotiations 
even  hal  the  parliament  been  earnest  in  its  wish  for  an  accommodation 
at  a  fur  earlier  period  than  it  really  was.  liut  it  was  in  his  private  cor- 
respoiiiU'nce,  especially  with  the  queen,  that  Charles  displayed  the  real  in- 
sincerity of  inucli  of  his  public  profession.  Seeing  the  great  power  of 
Cromwell,  and  to  a  considerable  extent  divining  that  daring  and  subtle 
man's  real  character,  Charles  had  not  oidy  wisely  but  even  successfully 
endeavoured  to  win  Cromwell  to  his  aid.  There  was,  as  yet,  but  lit- 
tle probability  that  even  if  Charles  himself  were  put  out  of  the  way,  a 
liiifh-hearted  nation  would  .set  aside  the  whole  family  of  its  legitin'iate 
king,  merely  to  give  a  more  than  regal  despotism  into  th:7  ci)arse  hands 
of  the  son  of  a  provincial  brewer  !  At  this  period  the  grasping  ambition  of 
tiie  (axutc  protector  vvoidd,  in  the  absence  of  all  probability  of  illegitimate- 
ly acquired  sovereignty,  have  been  satisfied  with  the  trust,  honours, 
wealth,  and  power  which  the  gratitude  of  his  sovereign  could  have  be- 
stowed on  him.  Cromwell,  consetjuently,  was  actually  pondering  the 
propriety  of  setting  up  the  king  and  becoming  "  viceroy  over"  him,  when 
the  stariling  truth  was  revealed  to  him,  that  the  king  was  merely  duping 
him,  and  intended  to  sacrifice  him  as  a  traitor  when  he  should  have  done 
with  him  as  a  tool.  Kffectually  served  by  his  spies,  Cromwell,  who  had 
ahT'idy  some  gromids  for  suspecting  Charles'  real  designs  towards  him, 
received  information  that  on  a  certain  nigl't  a  man  would  leave  the  Blue 
lioiir  in  Molborn  for  Dover,  on  his  way  to  the  continent,  and  that  in 
the  (lap  III'  his  saddle  a  most  important  packet  would  be  found,  contain- 
ing a  voluminous  letter  from  the  king  to  the  queen.  On  the  night  in 
question,  (Jromwell  and  Ireton,  in  the  disguise  of  troopers,  lounged  into 
llie  blue  Hoar  tap,  and  there  passed  away  the  time  in  drinking  beer 
and  watching  some  citizens  playing  at  shovel-board,  until  they  saw  the 
mail  arrive  of  whom  they  had  received  an  exact  description.  Following 
the  man  into  the  stable  they  ripped  open  the  saddle  and  found  the  packet, 
and,  to  his  dismay  and  rage,  Cromwell  read,  in  the  haml- writing  of 
Charles,  the  monarch's  exultation  at  having  tickled  his  vanity,  and  his 
expressed  delerniination  to  raise  him  for  a  time,  only  to  crush  him  when 
the  opportunity  should  occur.  From  that  moment  terror  made  (^'romwell 
inexorable  ;  he  saw  no  security  for  his  own  safety  except  in  tlie  complete 
destruction  of  the  king.     Uence  the  indecent  and  determij^ed  trial  and 


093 


THE  TUEASUllYOF  HISTORY 


sentence;  and  hence,  too,  the  absolute  contempt  that  was  shown  for  all 
efforts  at  preventing  tlie  senterK'e  from  being  executed. 

Whatever  want  of  resolution  Charles  may  have  shown  in  other  pas 
sages  of  his  life,  the  time  he  was  allowed  to  live  between  sentence  and 
execution  exhibited  him  in  the  not  unfrequently  combined  characters  of 
the  christain  and  the  hero.  No  invectives  against  the  iniquity  of  which 
he  was  the  victim  escaped  his  lips,  and  he  slept  the  deep  calm  sl«;(;n 
of  innocence,  though  on  each  night  ins  enemies,  with  a  refinement  upon 
cruelty  more  worthy  of  fiends  than  of  men,  assailed  his  ears  with  the 
noise  of  men  erecting  the  scalFold  for  his  execution. 

When  the  fatal  morning  at  lengtii  dawned,  the  king  at  an  early  hour 
called  one  of  his  attendants,  whom  he  desired  to  attire  him  with  more 
than  usual  care,  as  he  remarked  that  he  would  fain  appear  with  all  pro- 
per preparation  for  so  great  and  so  joyful  a  solemnity.  The  scaffold  was 
erected  in  front  of  Whitehall,  and  it  was  from  the  central  windows  of  his 
own  most  splendid  banqueting  room  that  the  king  stepped  on  to  the  scaf- 
fold on  which  he  was  to  be  murdered. 

When  his  majesty  appeared  he  was  attended  by  the  faithful  and  attach- 
ed Dr.  Juxon,  and  was  received  by  two  masked  executioniers  standiiiff 
beside  the  block  and  the  axe.  The  scaffold,  entirely  covered  with  fine 
black  cloth,  was  densely  surrounded  by  soldiers  under  tlie  command  o( 
Coloni;!  Tomlinson,  while  in  the  distance  was  a  vast  multitude  of  people, 
The  near  and  violent  death  that  awaited  him  seemed  to  produce  no  effect 
on  the  king's  nerves.  He  gazed  gravely  but  calmly  around  him,  and  said, 
to  all  to  whom  the  concourse  of  military  would  admit  of  his  speaking,  tiiat 
the  late  war  was  ever  deplored  by  him,  and  was  commenced  by  the  par- 
liament. He  had  not  taken  up  arms  until  compelled  by  the  warlike  and 
illegal  conduct  of  the  parliament,  and  had  done  so  only  to  defend  his  peo- 
pie  from  oppression,  and  to  preserve  intact  the  authority  which  had  been 
transmitted  to  him  by  his  ancestors.  But  though  he  positively  denied  timt 
there  was  any  legal  authority  in  the  court  by  which  he  had  been  tried,  or 
any  truth  in  the  charge  upon  which  he  had  been  condemned  and  sentenced. 
he  added  that  his  fite  was  a  just  punishment  for  his  weakly  and  criminal- 
ly consenting  to  the  equally  unjust  execution  of  tiie  earl  of  Strafford. 
He  emphatically  pronounced  his  forgiveness  of  all  his  enemies,  named 
his  son  a.«  his  successor,  and  expressed  his  hope  that  the  people  would 
now  return  to  their  duty  under  that  prince ;  and  he  concluded  liis  brief 
and  manly  address  by  calling  upon  all  present  to  bear  witness  that  he 
died  a  sincere  protestant  of  tlie  church  of  England. 

No  one  heard  this  address  without  being  deeply  moved  by  it,  and  even 
Colonel  Tomlinson,  who  had  the  unenviable  task  of  superintending  the 
murder  of  his  prince,  confessed  that  that  address  had  made  him  a  convert 
to  the  royal  cause. 

The  royal  martyr  now  began  to  disrobe,  and,  as  he  did  so.  Dr.  Juxon 
said  to  him,  "  Sire !  there  is  but  one  stage  more,  which,  though  a  turbu- 
lent and  troublesome  one,  is  still  but  a  short  one  ;  it  will  soon  carry  you 
a  great  way ;  it  will  carry  you  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  there  you  shall 
find,  to  your  great  joy,  the  prize  to  which  you  are  hastening,  a  crown 
of  glory." 

"I  go,"  replied  the  king,  "where  no  disturbance  can  take  place,  from  a 
corruptible  to  an  incorruptible  crown." 

"You  exchange,"  rejoined  the  bishop,  "a  temporal  for  an  eternal 
crown — a  good  exchange." 

Charles,  having  now  completed  his  preparatiorns,  delivered  his  decora- 
tions of  St.  George  to  Dr.  Juxon,  and  emphatically  pronounced  the  sin- 
gle word  "Remember!"  He  then  calmly  laid  his  head  upon  the  blocks 
and  it  was  severed  from  his  body  at  one  blow ;  the  second  executiouei 
immediately  held  it  up  by  the  hair,  and  said,  "  Behold  the  head  of  » 
traitor !" 


THE  TRBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


899 


"or  i\\ 

r  pas 
e  and 
ers  of 
which 
n  sleep 
t  upon 
ilh  the 

y  hour 
h  more 
lU  pro- 
old  was 
;s  of  his 
he  scaf- 

J  attach- 
standing 
ivilh  fine 
mand  oi 
f  people. 
no  effect 
and  said, 
iing,  that 
'  the  par- 
arlike  and 
,d  his  peo- 
i  hud  been 
enied  llv,\t 
n  tried,  or 
sentenced. 
1  criminal- 
Strafford. 
les,  named 
iple  would 
his  brief 
IS  that  he 

[,  and  even 

jnding  the 

;i  convert 

J  Dr.  Juxon 
Ih  a  turbu- 
]  carry  you 
U  you  shall 
^r,  a  crown 

ICO,  from  a 

an  eternal 

Ihis  decora- 
ed  the  sin- 

the  block 
3xecutionei 

head  of  8 


ihus,  on  the  30th  of  January,  1610,  perished  Charles  T.,  in  the  forty- 
ninth  year  of  his  age,  and  the  twenty-fourth  of  his  reign.  He  was  not 
executed  but  murdered ;  he  was  guilty  of  no  crime  but  weakness  a 
vacillation  of  judgment ;  his  greatest  misfortune  was  his  want  of  the 
stern  energy  of  a  Henry  Vlll.  or  an  Elizabeth;  such  an  energy  ex 
erted  at  the  beginning  of  his  reign  would  have  enabled  him  to  crush 
t'ne  traitorous,  and  would  have  warranted  and  enabled  him  subsequently 
to  increase  and  systematize  the  liberties  of  his  country,  without  danger  of 
subjecting  it  to  the  rude  purification  of  a  civil  war. 

The  blood  of  the  royal  martyr  had  scarcely  ceased  to  flow,  before  the 
lately  furious  multitude  began  to  repent  of  the  violence  which  their  owu 
vile  shouts  had  assisted.  But  repentance  came  too  late;  more  than 
the  power  of  their  murdered  monarch  had  now  fallen  into  sterner  hands. 

With  that  suspicion  which  "ever  haunts  the  guilty  mind,"  Cromwell 
and  his  friends  attached  much  mysterious  importance  to  the  "  Remkmber" 
so  emphatically  pronounced  by  Charles  on  delivering  his  George  to  Dr. 
Juxon,  and  that  learued  and  excellent  man  was  authoritatively  command.« 
ed  to  give  an  account  of  the  king's  meaning,  or  his  own  understanding 
of  the  word.  To  the  inexpressible  mortification  of  those  base  minds, 
tiie  doctor  informed  them  that  the  king  only  impressed  upon  him  a  for- 
mer and  particular  request  to  deliver  the  George  to  the  prince  of  Wales, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  urge  the  command  of  his  father  to  forgive  hia 
murderers ! 


CHAPTER  LHI. 


THE   COMMONWEALTH. 


W  '!  I  might  have  been  Cromwell's  original  views,  his  military  suc- 
cesses, ihe  vast  influence  he  had  obtained  over  the  army,  and,  perhaps, 
still  more  than  either  of  these,  the  base  and  evident  readiness  of  the  pai 
liament  to  truckle  to  his  military  power  and  meet  him  even  more  than 
half  way  in  his  most  unjust  and  exorbitant  wishes,  opened  a  prospect  too 
unbound'  ind  tempting  for  his  ambition  to  resist.  But  policy,  as  well 
as  the  cii.  iimstances  of  the  time,  made  it  incumbent  upon  Cromwoll,  in 
the  first  instance,  to  exalt  still  higher  his  character  for  military  skill  and 
daring.  Ireland  had  a  disciplined  host  in  arms  for  the  royai  cause 
under  the  duke  of  Ormond,  and  large  multitudes  of  the  native  irish  were 
at  the  same  time  in  open  revolt  under  the  restless  and  daring  O'Neal 
Cromwell  procured  the  command  of  the  army  appointed  to  put  down 
both  these  parties,  and  fully  succeeded.  How  mercilessly  he  used  his 
victory  we  have  related  under  the  proper  head. 

A  T),  1650. — On  the  return  of  Cromwell  to  England  his  pocket  parlia- 
ment formally  returned  him  the  thanks  which,  except  for  his  needless  and 
odious  cruelty,  he  had  well  merited.  A  new  opportunity  at  the  same 
moment  presented  itself  for  the  aggrandizement  of  this  bold  and  fortu- 
nate adventurer.  The  Scots,  who  had  basely  sold  Charles  I.  into  the 
hands  of  his  enemies,  were  now  endeavouring  to  make  money  by  venal 
loyalty,  as  they  had  formerly  made  it  by  venal  treason.  They  had  in- 
vited Charles  II.  into  Scotland,  where  that  gay  young  prince  speedily 
found  that  they  looked  upon  him  rather  as  a  prisoner  than  as  their  king. 

The  grossncss  of  their  manners,  and  the  rude  accommodation  with  which 
they  furnished  him,  he  could  probably  have  passed  over  without  much 
difficulty,  for,  young  as  Charles  II.  was,  he  had  already  seen  more  of 
grossness  and  poverty  than  commonly  comes  within  the  knowledge  of 
the  great.  But  Charles  was  frank  as  he  was  gay  ;  and  the  Ar.stere  man- 
ners and  long  and  unseasonable  discourses  which  they  inflicted  upoa 
Vol.  I.— 38 


594 


THE  TREASTJRY  OP  HISTORY. 


him  did  not  annoy  him  more  than  their  evident  determination  to  make 
him  at  tha  least  affect  to  agree  with  tliem.  As.  however,  the  Scoti 
were  his  only  present  hope,  Charles  did  his  utmost  to  avoid  quarreling 
with  them  ;  anrl  however  they  might  annoy  him  while  among  them,  what- 
ever might  be  their  ultimate  views  lejpecting  him,  certain  it  is  that  they 
raised  a  very  considerable  army,  and  s'.iowed  every  determination  to  re- 
instate him  in  his  kingdom. 

Even  merely  as  being  Presbyterians  the  Scotch  were  detested  by  Crom. 
we''  ;'nd  his  independents  ;  but  now  that  ihcy  had  also  embraced  the  cause 
of  le  man  Charles  Stuart,"  as  these  boorish  English  independents  af- 
fected to  call  their  lawful  sovereign,  it  was  determined  that  a  signal  chas- 
tisement  should  be  inflicted  upon  them.  The  command  of  an  army  for 
that  purpose  wiis  offered  to  Fairfax,  but  he  declined  it  on  the  honourable 
ground  that  he  was  unwilling  to  act  against  Presbyterians.  Cromwell 
had  no  such  scruple,  and  he  immediately  set  out  for  Scotland  with  an  armj 
of  sixteen  thousan-'  men,  wliich  received  accessions  to  its  numijers  in 
every  great  town  through  which  it  marched.  But  notwithstanding  even 
the  military  fame  of  Cromwell,  and  his  too  well  known  cruelty  to  all  who 
dared  to  resist  him  and  were  unfortunate  enough  to  be  vanquished,  the 
Scots  boldly  met  his  inv,  .^ion.  But  boldness  alone  was  of  little  aval! 
against  such  a  leader  as  Cromwell,  backed  by  such  tried  and  enthusiastic 
soldiers  as  his;  the  two  armies  had  scarcely  joined  battle  when  the 
Scots  were  put  to  flight,  their  loss  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners  being 
very  great,  while  the  total  loss  of  Cromwell  did  not  exceed  forty  men. 

As  Cromwell  after  this  battle  pursued  his  course  northward,  with  the 
determination  not  only  to  chastise,  but  completely  and  permanently  to 
subdue  the  Scots,  the  young  king,  as  soon  as  he  could  rally  the  Scottish 
army,  took  a  resolution  which  showed  him  to  have  an  intuitive  knowledge 
of  military  tactics.  Making  a  detour  to  get  completely  clear  of  any  out- 
lying parties  of  Cromwell's  troops,  he  commenced  a  forced  march  into 
England,  the  northern  counties  of  which  lay  completely  open  and  defence- 
less. The  boldness  of  this  course  alarmed  a  portion  of  the  Scottish  army, 
and  numerous  desertions  took  place  from  the  very  connnencemciit  of  the 
iiiarch  southward;  but  as  Charles  still  had  a  numerous  and  imposinjj  force, 
there  was  every  reason  to  believe  that  long  ere  he  should  reach  London 
the  great  object  of  his  expedition,  the  gentry  and  middle  orders  would  flock 
to  him  in  such  numbers  as  would  render  altogether  out  of  the  question  any 
resistance  on  the  part  of  the  parliament,  especially  in  the  absence  of  Crom- 
well and  the  flower  of  the  English  troops.  But  the  bold  manoeuvre  of  the 
young  prince  Avas  doomed  to  have  none  of  the  success  which  it  so  emi- 
nently deserved.  Before  his  progress  was  sufficient  to  counterbalance  in 
the  minds  of  his  subjects  the  terror  in  which  they  held  Cromwell,  that 
active  commander  had  received  news  of  the  young  king's  manoiuvre,  and 
had  instantly  retrograded  in  pursuit  of  him,  leaving  Monk,  his  second  in 
command,  to  complete  and  maintain  the  subjection  of  the  Scotch. 

There  has  always  appeared  to  us  to  be  a  striking  resemblance,  which 
we  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  noticed  by  any  other  writer,  between 
the  Cromwellian  and  the  Bonapartean  systems.  To  compare  the  battles 
of  Cromwell  to  the  battles  of  Bonaparte  would  be  literally  to  make  moun- 
tains of  molehills ;  yet  the  principles  of  these  two  commanders  neem  to 
us  to  have  been  the  same,  anil  to  be  summed  up  in  two  general  maxims, 
march  rapidly,  and  attack  in  ?}iasses.  The  phrases  are  simple  enough  in 
themselves,  yet  no  one  who  has  studied  a  single  battle-map  with  even  the 
slightest  assistance  from  mathematical  science,  can  fail  to  perceive  the 
immense,  we  had  almost  said  the  unbounded,  powers  of  their  application. 
On  the  present  occasion  the  celerity  of  Cromwell  was  the  destruction  of 
the  young  king's  hopes.  With  an  army  increased  by  the  terror  of  his 
namie  to  nearly  forty  thousand  men,  Cromwell  marched  southward  so  rap- 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


fi!)5 


idly,  thiit  li«  absolutnly  shut  up  the  forces  of  OhiuV's  in  the  city  of  Wor- 
cester ere  they  liad  lime  to  break  from  th(;ir  (inartcrs  ;iii(l  form  m  order  of 
battle  in  some  more  favourable  situation.  The  irresistible  cavalry  ot 
Cromwell  burst  suddenly  and  simultaneously  in  at  every  gate  of  tlie  town ; 
every  street,  almost  every  house  became  the  instant  scene  of  carna>fe ;  the 
Pitchcroft  was  Mterully  strewed  with  the  dead,  while  the  Severn  waa 
tinged  with  the  blOv.i  of  the  wounded;  and  Charles,  after  having  bravely 
fought  as  a  common  soldier,  and  skilfully,  though  unsuccessfully,  exerted 
himself  as  a  commander,  seemed  to  have  no  wish  but  to  throw  himself 
upon  the  swords  of  his  enemies.  It  was  with  difliculty  that  his  friends 
turned  him  from  his  desperate  purpose,  and  even  when  they  had  done  so 
it  ap|)eared  to  be  at  least  problematical  whether  he  would  be  able  to  escape. 
Accident,  or  the  devotion  of  a  peasant,  caused  a  wain  of  hay  to  be  over- 
turned opposite  to  one  of  the  gales  of  tlie  city  in  such  wise  that  Crom- 
well's mounted  troops  could  not  pass,  and,  favoured  by  this  circumstance, 
Charles  mounted  a  horse  that  was  held  for  him  by  a  devoted  friend,  and 
sought  safety  in  flight. 

The  triumph  of  Cromwell  was  completed  with  this  battle  of  Worcester, 
but  his  vengeful  desire  was  not  yet  laid  to  rest;  and  under  his  active  and 
untiring  superintendance  prodigious  exertions  were  made  to  capture  the 
young  king,  whose  difliculties,  in  fact,  only  commenced  as  he  escaped 
from  tlie  confusion  and  the  carnage  of  Worcester.  Almost  destitute  of 
money  and  resources  of  every  kind,  and  having  reason  to  fear  an  enemy, 
either  on  principle  or  from  lucre,  in  every  man  whom  he  met,  Charles  was 
obliged  to  trust  for  safety  to  disguise,  which  was  the  more  difficult  on  ac- 
count of  his  remarkable  and  striking  features.  Three  poor  men,  named 
Peiulerell,  disguised  him  as  a  woodcutte;,  fd  him,  concealed  him  by 
night,  and  subsequently  aided  him  to  reach  wealthier  though  not  more 
faithfully  devoted  friends.  While  with  these  poor  men,  Charles  in  the 
day-time  accompanied  them  to  their  place  of  labour  in  Boscobel  wood. 
On  one  occasion,  on  hearing  a  party  of  soldiers  approach,  the  royal  fugitive 
climbed  into  a  large  and  spreading  oak,  where,  sheltered  by  its  friendly 
foliage,  he  saw  the  solders  pass  and  repass,  and  quite  distinctly  heard 
them  express  their  rud.?  v.'ishes  to  obtain  the  reward  that  was  offered  for 
his  capture.  Thanks  to  the  incorruptible  fidelity  of  the  Pcnderells  and 
numerous  other  persons  who  were  necessarily  made  acquainted  with  the 
truth,  Charles,  though  iie  endured  great  occasional  hardship  and  priva- 
tion and  was  necessarily  exposed  to  constant  anxiety,  eluded  every 
effort  of  his  almost  innumerable  pursuers,  urged  on  though  they  were  to 
the  utmost  activity  by  the  malignant  liberality  with  which  Cromwell  pro 
mised  to  reward  the  traitoi  who  should  arrest  bis  fugitive  king.  Under 
different  disguises,  and  protected  by  a  variety  of  persons,  the  young  king 
went  from  place  to  place  for  six  weeks,  wanting  only  one  day,  and  his 
adventures  and  hair-breadth  escapes  during  that  time  read  far  more  liko 
romance  than  the  history  of  what  actually  was  endured  and  survived  by  a 
human  being  persecuted  by  evil  or  misguided  men.  At  the  end  of  this 
time  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  get  on  board  a  vessel  which  landed  him 
safely  on  the  coast  of  Normandy ;  an  issue  to  so  long  and  varied  a  series 
of  adventures  which  is  more  remarkable  when  it  is  considered  that  forty 
men  and  women,  of  various  stations,  circumstances,  and  dispositions,  were 
during  that  terrible  season  of  his  flight,  necessarily  made  acquai.ited  with 
the  secret,  the  betrayal  of  which  would  have  made  any  one  of  then  opulent 
for  life,  and  infamous  forever. 

Cromwell,  in  the  meantime,  after  having  achieved  what  he  called  the 
•crowning  mercy"  of  the  victory  of  Worcester,  made  a  sort  of  triumphjf 
return  to  London,  where  he  was  met  with  the  pomp  due  only  to  a  sove 
•eign,  by  the  speaker  and  principal  P"  (uuers  cT  the  houco  of  common; 


bor 


THE  TIIRASURV  OF  HISTORY. 


(iml  the  mayor  and  olhor  magistrates  of  London  in  tlieir  state  habits  and 
parupiiemalia. 

General  Monk  had  been  left  in  Scotland  with  a  sufficient  force  to  keep 
that  turbulent  people  in  awe  ;  and  both  their  presbyterianism  and  the  im- 
minent peril  in  which  Charles'  bold  march  of  the  Scottish  :irniy  had 
placed  Cromwell  himself  and  that  '•commonwealth"  of  which  ho  was  now 
fullv  determined  to  be  the  despot,  had  so  enraged  Cromwell  against  that 
country,  that  he  seized  upon  his  first  hour  of  leisure  to  complete  its  de- 
gradation, as  well  as  submission.     Mis  complaisant  parliament  only  re- 
quired a  hint  from  him  to  pass  an  act  which  might  have  been  fitly  enough 
cntitlf'  "ar  act  for  the  better  punishment  and  prevention  of  Scottish  loy. 
ally       P\    his  act  royalty  was  declared  to  be  abolished  in  Scotland,  as 
it  h.v.  p    viously  been  in  England,  and  Scotland  itself  was  declared  to  be 
then  annexed  to  England  as  a  conquest  and  a  province  of  "the  common- 
wealth."   Cromwell's  hatred  of  the  Scotch,  however,  proceeded  no  fiirther 
than  insult;  fortunately  for  them,  Monk,  who  was  left  as  their  resi- 
dent general  or  military  governor,  was  a  prudent  and  impartial  man,  free 
from  all  the  worst  fanaticism  and  wickedness  of  the  time;   and  liis  rigid 
impartiality  at  once  disposed  the  peopi"  "■   peace,  and  intimidated  the 
English  judges  who  were  entrusted  with  the  distribution  of  justice  In  that 
country,  from  being  guilty  of  any  injustice  or  tyramiy  to  which  tliey  might 
otherwise  have  been  inclined.     England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland— where 
Ireton  and  Ludlow  had  completed  the  very  little  that  Cromwell  had  left 
undone— were  thus  effectually  subjected  to  a  parliament  of  sixty  men, 
ujany  of  whom  were  the  weakest,  as  many  more  of  them  were  the  wick- 
edest, the  most  ignorant,  and  the  most  fanatical  men  that  could  have  been 
found  in  England  even  in  hat  age.    So  says  history,  if  we  look  at  it  with 
a  merely  superficial  glance.    But,  in  truth,  the  hats  which  covered  the 
heads  of  those  sixty  men  had  fully  as  much  concern  as  the  men  themselves, 
in  the  wonderfully  rapid  and  complete  subjugation  of  three  countries,  twG 
of  which  had  never  been  otherwise  than  turbuk  nt  and  sanguinary,  and 
the  third  of  which  had  just  murdered  its  sovereign  and  driven  his  legal 
successor  into  exile.     No ;  it  was  not  by  the  fools  and  the  fanatics,  care- 
fully weeded  out  of  the  most  foolish  and  fanatical  of  parliaments,  that  all 
this  great  though  evil  work  was  done.    Unseen,  save  by  the  few,  but  fell 
throughout   the    whole    English    dommion,   Cromwell    dictated    every 
measure  and  inspired  every  speech  of  that  parliament  which  to  the  eyes 
of  the  vulgar  seemed  so  omnipotent.     His  sagacity  and  his  energy  did 
much,  and  his  known  vindictiveness  and  indomitable  firmness  did  the  rest; 
those  who  opposed  failed  before  his  powers,  and  their  failure  intimidated 
others  into  voluntary  submission.     The  channel  islands  and  the  Scottish 
isles  were  easily  subdued  on  account  of  their  proximity ;  the  American 
colonies,  though  some  of  them  at  the  outset  declared  for  the  royal  cause, 
numbered  so  many  enthu!5i..5t:c  religious  dissenters  among  their  popula- 
tions, that  they,  too,  speedily  submitted  to  and  followed  the  example  and 
orders  of  the  newly  and  guiltily  founded  "Commonwealtii"  of  England. 

While  all  this  was  being  achieved,  the  real  government  of  England  was 
in  the  hands  of  Cromwell,  though,  in  form,  there  was  a  council  of  thirty- 
eight,  to  whom  all  addresses  and  petitions  were  presented,  and  who  had. 
nominally,  the  managing  of  the  army  and  navy,  and  the  right  and  respon- 
sibility of  making  war  and  peace.  The  real  moving-principle  of  this  po- 
tent council  was  the  mind  of  Cromwell.  And,  while  we  denounce  the 
flagrant  hypocrisy  of  his  pretensions  to  a  superior  sanctity,  and  his  traito- 
rous contempt  of  all  his  duties  as  a  subject,  impartial  truth  demands  that 
we  admit  that  never  was  ill-obtained  power  better  wielded.  Next  after 
the  petty  and  cruel  persecution  of  individuals,  nominally  on  public  grounds 
but  really  in  revenge  of  private  injuries,  a  political  speculator  would  in- 
fallibly and  very  naturally  predict  that  a  poor  and,  comparatively  speakiiiij 


THB  TRKASURY  OF  HtaTORY. 


Wl 


low-bom  private  man,  like  Cromwell,  beinff  suddenly  invested  with  no 
vast  a  power  over  a  great  and  wealthy  nation,  would  make  his  ill-anquired 
HUtliority  an  inramous  and  especial  scourge  in  the  financial  department. 
But,  to  the  honour  of  Cromwell  he  it  said,  there  is  no  single  period  in  our 
history  during  which  the  public  finances  have  been  so  well  managed,  and 
administered  with  so  entire  a  freedom  from  greedy  dishonesty  and  waste, 
as  during  this  strange  man's  strange  admmistration.  It  ia  quite  true  that 
the  crown  revenues  and  the  lands  of  the  bishops  were  most  violently  and 
shamefully  seized  up(m  by  this  governincnt,  but  they  were  not,  as  might 
have  been  anticipated,  squandered  upon  the  gratification  of  private  individ- 
uals. These,  with  a  farther  levy  upon  the  national  resources  that  amounted 
to  only  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  pounds  per  month,  supplied  the 
whole  demands  of  a  government  which  not  only  maintained  peace  in  its 
own  commonwealth  and  dependencies,  but  also  taught  foreigners  that, 
under  whatever  form  of  government,  England  still  knew  how  to  make 
herself  feared,  if  not  respected. 

Holland,  by  its  protection  of  the  royal  party  of  England,  had  given  deep 
offence  to  Cromwell,  who  literally,  "  as  the  hart  panteth  for  cool  v/aters," 
panted  for  the  blood  of  Charles  IF.  "Whom  we  have  injured  we  never 
forgive,"  says  a  philosophic  satirist ;  and  Cromwell's  hatred  of  Charles  II. 
was  a  good  exemplification  of  the  sad  truth.  Hating  Holland  for  her  gen- 
erous shelter  of  the  royalists,  Cromwell  eagerly  seized  upon  two  events, 
which  might  just  as  well  have  happened  in  any  other  country  under  the 
heaven,  as  a  pretext  for  making  war  upon  that  country. 

The  circumstances  to  which  we  allude  were  these.  A.t  the  time  of  the 
mock  trial  tliat  preceded  the  shameful  murder  of  the  late  king,  Di)ctor  Do- 
rislaus,  the  reader  will  remember,  was  one  of  the  "assistants"  of  Coke, 
the  "solicitor  for  the  people  of  England."  Under  the  government  of  the 
"commonwealth"  this  mere  hireling  was  sent  as  its  envoy  to  Holland.  A 
royalist  whose  own  fierce  passions  made  him  forget  that  it  is  written 
"vengeance  is  mine,  1  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord,"  and  who  would  see  no 
difference  between  the  ruflian  who  actually  wields  the  instrument,  and  the 
more  artful  but  no  less  abominable  ruffian  who  instigates  or  hires  the  ac- 
tual assassin,  put  Dorislaus  to  death.  No  sane  man  of  sound  Christian 
principles  can  justify  this  act;  but  how  was  Holland  concerned  in  iti 
The  same  man  with  the  same  opportunity  would  doubtless  have  commit- 
ted the  same  act  in  the  puritan  state  of  New-England :  and  to  make  a 
whole  nation  answerable  in  their  blood  and  their  treasure  for  the  murder- 
ous act  of  an  individual  who  had  taken  shelter  among  them  was  an  ab- 
surdity  as  well  as  an  atrocity.  The  other  case  which  served  Cromwell 
as  a  pretext  for  declaring  war  against  Holland  was,  that  Mr.  St.  John, 
who  was  subsequently  sent  on  an  embassy  to  Holland,  received  some 
petty  insult  from  the  friends  of  the  prince  of  Orange  1  But,  alas !  it  is 
not  alone  usurped  governments  that  furnish  us  with  these  practical  com- 
mentaries on  the  fable  of  the  wolf  and  the  lamb! 

The  great  naval  commander  of  this  time  was  Admiral  Blake.  Though 
he  did  not  enter  the  sea  service  until  very  late  in  life,  he  was  a  perfect 
master  of  naval  tactics,  and  his  daring  and  firmness  of  character  could 
not  be  surpassed.  When  the  war  was  declared  against  Holland  he  pro- 
ceeded to  sea  to  oppose  the  power  of  the  Dutch  admiral,  Von  Tromp. 
The  actions  between  them  weyre  numerous  and  in  many  cases  tolerably 
equal,  hut  the  general  result  of  the  war  was  so  ruinous  to  the  trading  in- 
terests of  the  Dutch,  that  they  anxiously  desired  the  return  of  peace. 
But  though  it  was  chiefly  the  personal  feeling  and  personal  energy  of 
Cromwell  that  had  commenced  this  war,  his  hi,lherto  patient  and  obsequi 
ous  tools,  the  parliament,  now  exerted  themselves  to  prolong  the  war  at 
sea,  hoping  thus  to  weaken  that  power  of  the  army,  wielded  by  Cromwell 
which  of  late  they  had  felt  to  a  scarcely  tolerable  degree. 


593 


THE  TRKAflURY  OK  HISTORY. 


But  fifTertiial  rrsistancc  on  tlio  part  of  thr  parliamBnl  wns  now  wholjr 
out  of  the  (nicslioii ;  lUcy  liail  loo  well  'loiio  lUv  work  of  thf  nnurf  '  who 
was  prol)ahly  not  ill-plmsed  tliiit  their  prfMniit  petty  aii.J  fhlilft  iilte,npt  at 
oppoRJiiff  him  gavo  hitii  a  pri'tcxi  for  crushing  «'vi'ii  the  l;.Ht  (lenihlatict)  of 
their  fret;  will  out  of  existiMice.  But  though  ht;  had  fully  (ietRrmiiied  upon 
n  new  and  decisive  mode  of  ovcrrulinif  them,  (Jroinwell  initiated  it  with 
his  usual  art  and  tortuous  procedure.  He  well  knew  that  the  conunnng 
hated  the  army,  would  faiti  h-ive  dishauded  it,  if  possible,  and  would  on 
no  account  do  aught  that  could  increase  either  its  power  or  its  weli-tujing ; 
on  tlie  other  hand,  he  was  equally  aware  that  the  soldiers  had  many  real 
grievances  to  complain  of,  and  also  entertained  not  a  few  prejudices 
against  the  commons.  To  embroil  them  in  an  open  (piarrel,  and  then, 
seemingly  as  the  merely  sympathizing  redres«cr  of  the  wronged  sol- 
diery,  to  use  them  to  crush  the  parliament  was  the  course  he  determined 
upon. 

A.  D.  1653. — Cromwell,  with  that  rugged  but  efficient  eloquence  which 
he  .so  well  knew  how  to  use,  urged  the  ofncors  of  the  army  no  longer  to 
sufTer  themselves  and  their  men  to  labour  undtT  grievances  unredri'sscd 
and  arrears  unpaid,  at  the  mere  will  and  pleasure  of  the  selfish  civilians 
for  whom  they  had  fought  and  conquered,  but  remonstrate  in  terms  which 
those  selfish  persons  could  not  misunderstand,  and  which  would  wring 
Justine  from  their  fears.  Few  thuigs  could  have  been  suggested  which 
would  have  been  more  entirely  agreeable  to  the  wishes  of  the  oflicers. 
They  drew  up  a  petition — if  we  ought  not  rather  to  call  it  a  remonstrance 
— in  which,  after  demanding  redress  of  grievances  and  payment  of  arrears, 
they  taunted  the  parliament  with  having  formerly  made  fine  professions 
of  their  determination  so  to  remodel  that  assembly  as  to  extend  and  in- 
sure liberty  to  all  ranks  of  men,  and  with  having  for  years  continued  to 
sit  without  making  a  single  advance  towards  the  performance  of  these  vol- 
untary  pledges.  The  house  acted  on  this  occasion  with  a  spirit  which 
would  have  been  admirable  and  honourable  in  a  genuine  house  of  com- 
mons,  but  which  savoured  somewhat  of  the  ludicrous  when'shown  by  men 
who,  consciously  and  deliberately,  had,  year  after  year,  been  the  mere  and 
servile  tools  of  (vromwell  and  his  prfBtorians.  It  was  voted  not  only  that 
this  petition  should  not  be  conjplied  with,  but  also  that  any  person  who 
should  in  future  present  any  such  petition  should  be  deemed  guilty  of  high 
treason,  and  a  committee  was  appointed  immediately  to  prepare  an  act  in 
conformity  to  this  resolution.  The  officers  presented  a  warm  remon- 
strance upon  this  treatment  of  their  petition  ;  th"  house  still  more  warmly 
replied  ;  and  it  was  soon  very  evident  that  both  parties  were  animated  by 
the  utmost  animosity  to  each  other.  Cromwell  now  saw  that  his  hour 
for  action  had  arrived.  He  was  sitting  in  council  with  some  of  his  offi- 
cers when,  doubtless  in  obedience  to  his  own  secret  orders,  intelligence 
was  brought  to  him  of  the  violent  temper  and  designs  of  the  house.  With 
well  acted  astonishment  and  uncontrollable  rage  he  started  from  his  seat, 
and  exclaimed  that  the  misconduct  of  these  men  at  length  compelled  him 
to  do  a  thing  which  made  the  hair  to  stand  on  end  upon  his  head.  Has- 
tily assembling  three  hundred  soldiers  he  immediately  proceeded  to  the 
house  of  commons,  which  he  entered,  covered,  and  followed  by  as  many 
of  the  troops  as  could  enter.  Before  any  remonstrance  could  be  ofiered, 
Cromwell,  stamping  upon  the  ground,  as  in  an  ecstacy  of  sudden  passion, 
exclaimed,  "  For  shame !  Get  ye  gone  and  give  place  to  honester  men ! 
you  are  no  longer  a  parliament,  I  tell  ye  you  are  no  longer  a  parliament." 
Sir  Harry  Vane,  a  bold  and  honest  man,  though  a  half  insane  enthusiast, 
;iow  rose  and  denounced  Cromwell's  conduct  as  indecent  and  tyrann  i-al. 
'  "Ha!"  exclaimed  Cromwell,  "Sir  Harry!  Oh!  Sir  Harry  Vane!  the 
Lord  deliver  me  from  Sir  Harry  Vane  !"  Then  turning  first  to  one  prom- 
inent member  of  this  lately  servile  parliament  and  then  to  another,  h» 


THB  TRKASCllY  OF  HISTORY 


509 


dealt  nut  in  surccHMJoti  tho  tillcH  of  ({luttoti,  drunkani,  H(liilt<;r(>r,  ami 
wlioreiiiongcr.  Haviii^  «ivfiii  this,  prol)al)ly,  wry  jimt  ili!»iri|  Hon  of  tli« 
men  by  whoao  incaiiH  li<>  liiid  so  lon({  and  tio  tyraiiiiK.illy  ({ovcnwd  the 
■iilTerint;  nation,  ho  literally  turni-d  "  th<>  runi|>*'  out  n(  tiic  hoiuf,  luckud 
till'  doorH,  and  carried  away  the  key  in  liis  pocket. 

A  ttervilt!  parliament  heing  the  most  convenient  of  IooIh  for  the  pur- 
puses  of  despotism,  Cromwell,  when  ho  had  thus  Hummarily  got  rid  of 
"  the  rump,"  very  soon  proceeded  to  call  a  new  parliament,  whiirh,  if  pos- 
sible, Nurpassed  even  that  in  tho  qualities  of  brutal  ignorance  and  ferocious 
fanaticism.  A  practice  had  now  bi.'come  t,^eneral  of  taking  scriptural 
words,  and  in  many  cases,  whole  scriptural  sentenees  or  canting  imita- 
tions of  them,  for  Christian  names;  and  a  fanatical  leallier-seller,  who 
was  the  leading  man  in  this  fanatical  parliament,  named  Praise-(>od 
Darebones,  gave  his  name  to  it.  The  utt(!r  ignorance  displayed  by  the 
wiiole  of  the  members  of  Hareboncs' parliament  even  oft  lie  forms  of  their 
own  house,  the  wretched  drivelling  of  their  speeciies,  and  their  obvious 
incapacity  to  understand  the  meaning  of  what  they  were  secretly  and  im- 
periously instructed  to  do,  excited  so  much  ridicule  even  from  the  very 
multitude,  that  the  less  insane  among  the  memlxMs  themselves  became 
ashamed  of  their  pitiable  appearance.  A  small  number  of  these,  with  the 
concurren<!e  of  Rouse,  their  speaker,  waited  upon  Cromwell  at  White- 
hall, and  wisely  tendered  their  r<;signation,  which  he  willingly  received. 
Hut  many  of  this  precious  parliament  were  far  from  iieing  convinced  of 
their  incapacity  or  willing  to  re-<ign  their  authority.  They  determined 
not  to  be  bound  by  the  decision  ol  the  seceders,  and  proceeded  to  elect 
one  of  their  number,  named  Moyer,  as  their  speaker.  Cromwell  hud  but 
one  way  of  dealing  with  this  sort  of  cDiitumacy,  and  he  sent  a  party  of 

![uards,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  White,  to  clear  the  parliament 
louse.  On  this  occasion  a  striking  instance  occurred  of  the  mingled  cant 
and  profanity  which  then  so  disgustingly  abounded  in  common  conversa- 
tion. Colonel  White,  on  entering  the  house  and  seeing  Moyer  in  the 
)hair,  addressed  him  and  asked  what  he  and  the  other  members  were 
loing  there. 

"Seeking  the  Lord,"  replied  Moyer,  in  the  cant  of  his  tribe. 

"  Then,"  replied  the  colonel,  with  a  profane  levity  still  more  disgusting 
han  the  other's  cant,  "you  had  belter  go  seek  him  elsewhere,  for  to  my 
sertain  knowledge  he  has  not  been  here  these  many  years." 

Having  now  fully  ascertained  the  complete  devotion  of  the  mili- 
lary  to  his  person,  and  sufBciently  accustomed  the  people  at  large  to  his 
arbitrary  and  sudden  caprices,  Cromwell,  whose  clear  and  masculine 
sense  must  have  loathed  the  imbecility  and  fanaticism  of  the  late  parlia- 
ment, boldly  proceeded  to  dispense  with  parliaments  altogether,  and  to 
establish  a  pure  and  open  military  government,  of  which  he  was  himself 
at  once  the  head,  heart,  and  hand.  The  formation  of  the  new  government 
was  highly  characteristic  of  Cromwell's  peculiar  policy.  Through  his 
usual  agents  he  induced  the  ofRcers  of  the  army  to  declare  him  protector 
of  the  commonwealth  of  England  ;  and  that  there  might  be  no  misunder- 
standing as  to  the  substantial  royalty  of  the  office  thus  conferred  on  him, 
the  appointment  was  proclaimed  in  London  and  other  chief  towns  with 
ihe  formality  and  publicity  usual  on  proclaiming  the  accession  of  a  king. 

The  military  officers  having  thus  made  Cromwell  king  in  all  but  the 
mere  name,  he  gratefully  proceeded  to  make  them  his  ministers,  choosing 
his  council  from  among  the  general  opicers.  and  allowing  each  councillor 
the  then  very  liberal  salary  of  one  thousand  pounds  per  annum. 

Now  that  he  was  ostensibly,  as  for  a  long  time  before  he  had  been  vir- 
tually, at  the  head  of  affairs,  the  policy  of  Cromwell  required  that  the 
army  should  be  well  taken  care  of.  While  there  was  yet  any  possibility 
of  the  people  ctaniouring  fur  a  parliament,  and  of  a  parliament  making 


fCO 


TIIK  TURA8UUY  OF  HIHTOUT. 


miy  hIiow  of  rrsiHtnricn  to  his  inordiiialc  pretrnsiorm,  Om  rliscontrnt  of  ihe 
ttrmy  wa«  a  weapon  of  prifc  lo  hiiii.  Now  tin?  c;iso  was  roinpicii.|y 
alton'd,  and  itmtrad  of  allowing  llu;  pay  of  tlif  army  lo  full  nilo  arrciiri, 
ho  had  every  oHlcir  and  man  eonHtantly  paid  one  moiitli  in  advance. 
Liliiral  in  all  that  ndalcd  to  real  piihlie  sterviee,  an  the  providing  of  arinH, 
furnisliiii(r  the  maga/inoH,  and  kii  ping  the  fleet  in  serviceahlu  ri-pajr,  lif 
yet  was  the  dflermined  foe  of  all  iiHel«;s»  expense. 

Dill  (hough  the  iron  hand  of  Cromwell  kept  the  people  tranquil  m 
home,  and  maintained  the  high  character  of  the  nation  ahroad,  he  hnd 
not  long  ohtaincd  the  protectorate  ere  ho  hegaii  to  siitTer  the  penally  o( 
hit  criniimil  ambition.  To  the;  royalists,  as  the  murderer  of  their  formnr 
king,  and  as  the  eliief  obstacle  to  the  restoialion  of  their  jjreseiit  one,  ho 
was  of  course  hateful;  and  the  Hincer*!  republicans,  including  not  only 
Fairfax  and  many  other  men  of  public  importance  and  character,  hut  aim) 
a  multitude  of  persons  in  all  ranks  of  private  life,  and  some  of  his  own 
nearest  and  dearest  cunnexions,  saw  in  him  only  a  worse  than  legitimate 
king.  The  consequence  was,  that  numerous  plots,  of  more  or  less  im- 
portance aiiu  extent,  were  formed  .igaiiist  him.  Hut  he  was  hiin.-self  ac- 
tive, vigilant,  and  penetrating;  and  as  he  was  profuse  in  his  rewards  to 
those  who  aflTorded  him  valui>')le  information,  no  one  was  ever  more  ex- 
actly served  by  spies,  fie  seemed  to  know  men's  very  thoughts,  bo 
rapid  and  minute  was  the  information  which  he  in  fact  owed  to  this,  in 
liis  circumstances,  wise  liberality.  No  sooner  was  a  plot  formed  than  he 
knew  who  were  concerned  in  it;  no  sooner  had  the  conspirators  deter- 
mined to  procee '  lo  action  than  they  leariuui  to  their  cost,  that  llieirown 
lives  were  at  the  disposal  of  him  whose  life  they  had  aimed  at. 

With  regard  to  the  war  in  which  the  nation  was  engaged,  it  may  be  re- 
marked,  thai  all  the  efforts  of  the  Dutch  failed  to  save  them  from  suffer- 
ing severely  under  the  vigorous  and  determined  attacks  of  Blake.  De- 
feated  again  and  again,  and  finding  their  trade  paralyzed  in  every  direc- 
tion, they  at  length  became  so  dispirited  that  they  sued  for  peace,  and 
treated  as  a  sovereign  the  man  whom,  hitherto,  they  had  very  justly  treat- 
ed as  a  usurper.  In  order  to  obtain  peact,  they  agreed  to  restore  consid- 
erable territory  which,  during  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  they  had  torn  from 
the  East  India  Company,  to  cease  to  advocate  or  advance  the  cause  of 
the  unfortunate  Charles  II.,  and  to  pay  homage  on  every  sea  to  the  flaij 
of  the  commonwealth. 

While  we  give  all  due  credit  to  Cromwell  as  the  ruler  under  whom 
the  Dutch  were  thus  humbled,  and  make  due  allowance  for  the  value  of 
his  prompt  and  liberal  supplies  to  the  admiral  and  fleet,  we  must  not, 
either,  omit  to  remember  that  the  real  humbler  of  the  Dutch  was  the 
gallant  Admiral  Blake.  This  fine  English  seaman  was  avowedly  and 
notoriously  a  republican  in  principle,  and,  be.ing  so,  he  could  not  but  be 
opposed  to  the  usurpation  by  Cromwell  of  a  more  than  kingly  power. 
But  at  sea,  and  with  an  enemy's  fleet  in  sight,  the  gallant  Blake  remem- 
bered only  his  country,  and  cared  nothing  about  who  ruled  it.  On  such 
occasions  he  would  say  to  his  seamen,  "  No  matter  into  whose  hands  the 
government  may  fall,  our  duty  is  still  to  fight  for  our  country." 

With  France  in  negotiation,  as  with  Holland  in  open  war,  ..gland  un- 
der Cromwell  was  successful.  The  sagacious  Cardinal  Mazarine,  who 
was  then  in  power  in  France,  clearly  saw  that  the  protector  was  more 
easily  to  be  managed  by  flattery  and  deference  than  by  any  attempts  at 
violence,  and  there  were  few  crowned  heads  that  were  treated  by  France, 
under  Mazarine,  with  half  the  respect  which  it  lavished  upon  "  Protector" 
Cromwell  of  England.  This  prudent  conduct  of  the  French  minister 
probably  saved  much  blood  and  treasure  to  both  nations,  for  although 
Cromwell's  discerning  mind  and  steadfast  temper  would  not  allow  ol 
his  sacrificing  any  of  the  substantial  advantages  of  England   to  the 


whom 

lue  o( 

Bi  not, 

H8  the 
dly  and 

but  be 

power, 
remem- 
On  such 
ands  the 

land  un- 
ne,  who 
as  move 
empts  at 
France, 
rotector" 
min-ster 
aUhough 
allow  (it 
10  Iha 


mot  I 

(lJ8p( 

taut 
have 
Sp 
powc 
come 
coiisii 
the  c 
and  tl 
depres 
of  the 
the  So 
put  Di 
Dm 
experi( 
the  1)1 
spread 
ably  81 
where  i 
the  crui 
it  with 
and  rep 
injuries 
A.  D.  : 
pean  co 
Blake  n 
Algiers  i 
attention 
bade  hi  it 
stantly  t( 
of  the  si 
the  Spaii 
of  the  en 
for  the  C 
sixteen  s; 
he  sank  i 
he  expire 
While 
self  in  on 
rying  abo 
ject  of  I 
Spaniards 
failed.     R 
the  admin 
Dietely  sii 
sion  of  by 
tie  WHS  tin 
been  draw 
'-'onipensat 
sent  to  til 
A.  D.  16.5 
i'lg  to  a  (;!( 
must  have 
orate,  bcei 
wo  have 
foyalists,  d 
itv  and  ijf 


THE  TREA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


601 


wotliings  and  flatteries  of  the  French  minister,  they,  unquestionably, 
disposed  him  to  docility  aad  comphiisance  upon  many  not  vitally  impor- 
laiii  points,  upon  which,  had  they  been  at  all  haughtily  pressed,  he  would 
have  resisted  even  to  the  extremity  of  going  to  war. 

Spain,  which,  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  and  even  later,  had  been  so 
powerful  as  to  threaten  to  unite  all  Europe  in  submission,  had  now  be- 
come considerably  reduced.  But  Cromwell,  wisely,  as  we  think,  still 
considered  it  top  powerful,  and  as  far  more  likely  than  France  to  espouse 
the  cause  of  Charles  II.,  and  thus  be  injurious  to  the  connnonwealth 
and  the  protector.  Accordingly,  being  solicited  by  Mazarine  to  join  in 
depressing  Spain,  he  readily  furnished  six  thousand  men  for  the  invasion 
of  the  Netherlands,  and  a  signal  victory  was  with  this  aid  obtained  over 
the  Spaniards  at  Dunes.  In  return  for  this  important  service  the  French 
put  Dunkirk,  lately  taken  from  the  Spaniards,  into  his  hands. 

Hut  the  victory  of  Dunes  was  the  least  of  the  evils  that  the  Spaniards 
experienced  from  the  enmity  of  Cromwell.  Blake,  whose  conduct  in 
the  Dutch  war  had  not  only  endeared  him  to  Englai.d,  but  had  also 
spread  his  personal  renown  throughout  the  world,  was  most  liberally  and 
ably  supported  by  the  protector.  Having  sailed  up  the  Mediterranean, 
where  the  English  flag  had  never  floated  above  a  fleet  since  the  time  of 
the  crusaders,  he  completely  swept  that  sea  of  all  that  dared  to  dispute 
it  with  him,  and  then  proceeded  to  Leghorn,  where  his  mere  appearance 
and  reputation  caused  the  duke  of  Tuscai)y  to  make  reparation  for  divers 
injuries  which  had  been  inflicted  upon  the  English  traders  there. 

A.  D.  Ifi55. — The  trading  vessels  of  England,  as,  indeed,  of  all  Euro 
pean  countries,  had  long  suffered  from  the  Tunisians  and  Algerines,  and 
Blake  now  proceeded  to  call  those  barbarians  to  account.  The  dey  ol 
Algiers  was  soon  brought  to  reason;  but  the  dey  of  Tunis,  directing  the 
attention  of  Blake  to  the  strong  castles  of  Goletta  and  Porto  Farino, 
bade  him  look  at  them  and  then  do  his  worst.  The  English  admiral  in- 
stantly took  him  at  his  word,  sailed  into  the  harbour,  burned  the  whole 
of  the  shipping  that  lay  in  it,  and  sailed  triumphantly  away  in  quest  of 
the  Spaniards.  Arrived  at  Cadiz  he  took  two  galleons,  or  treasure-ships, 
of  the  enormous  value  of  two  millions  of  pieces  of  eight,  and  then  sailed 
for  the  Canaries,  where  he  burned  and  sunk  an  entire  Spanish  fleet  of 
sixteen  sail.  After  this  latter  action  he  sailed  for  England  to  refit,  where 
he  sank  so  rapidly  beneath  an  illness  which  had  long  afflicted  him,  that 
he  expired  just  as  he  reached  home. 

While  Blake  had  been  thus  gallantly  and  successfully  exerting  him- 
self in  one  quarter,  another  fleet  under  admirals  Venables  and  Fenn,  car- 
rying about  four  thousand  land  forces,  left  the  British  shores.  The  ob- 
ject of  this  expedition  was  to  capture  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  but  the 
Spaniards  were  so  well  prepared  and  superior,  that  this  object  entirely 
failed.  Resolved  not  to  return  home  without  having  achieved  something, 
the  admirals  now  directed  their  course  to  Jamaica,  where  they  so  com- 
pletely surprised  the  Spaniards,  that  that  rich  island  was  lai.en  posses- 
sion of  by  our  troops  without  the  necessity  of  striking  a  blow.  So  lit- 
tle was  the  value  of  the  island — from  which  so  much  wealth  has  smce 
been  drawn — at  that  time  understood,  that  its  capture  was  not  deemed  a 
compensation  for  the  failure  as  to  Hispaniola,  and  both  the  admirals  were 
sent  to  the  Tower  for  that  failure. 

A.  D.  16/58. — But  the  splendid  successes  of  Cromwell  were  now  draw- 
ing to  a  close.  His  life,  glorious  as  to  the  unthinking  and  uninformed  it 
must  have  appeared,  had  from  the  moment  of  his  accepting  the  protect- 
orate, been  one  long  series  of  secret  and  most  harassing  vexations.  As 
we  have  already  pointed  out,  both  extremes,  the  republicans  and  the 
royalists,  detested  him,  and  were  perpetually  plotting  against  his  author- 
ity and  life.     His  own  wife  was  thought  to  detest  the  guilty  state  la 


602 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


which  tliey  lived ;  and  it  is  certain  that  both  his  eldest  daughter,  Mrs 
Fleetwood,  and  his  favourite  child,  Mrs.  Claypole,  took  every  opportunjiy 
of  maintaining  the  respective  principles  of  their  husbands,  even  in  the 

Ercsence  of  their  fatlier.  Mrs.  Fleetwood,  indeed,  went  beyond  her  hug. 
and  in  zeal  for  republicanism,  while  Mrs.  Claypole,  whom  the  protector 
loved  with  a  tenderness  little  to  have  been  expected  from  so  stern  a  man, 
was  so  ardent  in  the  cause  of  monarchy,  that  even  on  her  death-bed  she 
upbraided  her  sorrowing  father  with  the  death  of  one  sovereign  and  the 
usurpation  which  kept  his  successor  in  exile  and  misery.  The  soldiery, 
too,  with  whom  he  had  so  often  fought,  were  for  the  most  part  sincere' 
however  erring,  in  their  religious  professions,  and  could  not  but  be  deeply 
disgusted  when  they  at  length  perceived  that  his  religious  as  well  as  re- 
publican professions  had  been  mere  baits  to  catch  men's  opinions  and 
support.  He  was  thus  left  almost  without  a  familiar  and  confidential 
friend,  while  in  the  midst  of  a  people  to  whom  he  had  set  the  fearful  ex- 
ample of  achieving  an  end,  although  at  the  terrible  price  of  shedding  in 
nocent  blood. 

Frequent  conspiracies,  and  his  knowledge  of  the  general  detestation  in 
which  his  conduct  was  held,  at  length  shook  even  his  resolute  mind  and 
iron  frame.  He  became  nervous  and  melancholy ;  in  whichever  direc- 
tion he  turned  his  eyes  he  imagined  he  saw  an  enemy.  Fairfax,  whose 
lady  openly  condemned  the  proceedings  against  the  king  in  Westminster 
Hall  at  the  time  of  the  mock  trial,  had  so  wrought  upon  her  husband, 
that  he  allowed  himself  to  league  with  Sir  William  Waller  and  other 
eminent  men  at  the  head  of  the  presbyterian  party  to  destroy  the  pro- 
lector.  With  all  parties  in  the  state  thiw  furious  against  him,  Cromwel! 
now,  too,  for  the  first  time,  found  himself  fearfully  straightened  for  money. 
His  successes  against  the  Spaniards  had  been  splendid,  indeed,  but  such 
splendours  were  usually  expensive  in  the  end.  With  an  exhausted  treas- 
ury, and  debts  of  no  inconsiderable  amount,  he  began  to  fear  the  conse- 
quence of  what  seemed  inevitable,  his  falling  in  arrears  with  the  soldiery 
to  whom  he  owed  all  his  past  success,  and  upon  whose  good  will  alone 
rested  his  slender  hope  of  future  security.  Just  as  he  was  tortured  well 
nigh  to  insanity  by  these  threatening  circumstances  of  his  situation.  Col- 
onel Titus,  a  zealous  republican,  who  had  bravely,  however  erroneously, 
fought  against  the  late  king,  and  who  was  now  ituji-oughly  disgusted  and 
indignant  to  see  the  plebeian  king-killer  practising  inore  tyraiuiy  than  the 
murdered  monarch  had  ever  been  guilty  of,  sent  forth  his  opinions  in  a 
most  bitterly  eloquent  pamphlet,  bearing  the  ominous  title  of  "Killing 
NO  Murder."  Setting  out  with  a  brief  reference  to  what  had  been  done 
in  the  case  of  (what  he,  as  a  republican,  called)  kingly  tyranny,  the  col- 
onel vehemently  insisted  that  it  was  not  merely  a  right,  but  a  positive 
duty  to  slay  the  plebeian  usurper.  "  Shall  we,"  said  the  eloquent  de- 
claimer,  "  shall  wc,  who  struck  down  the  lion,  cower  before  the  wolf?" 

Cromwell  read  this  eloquent  and  immoral  reasoning — immoral,  we  say, 
for  crime  can  never  justify  more  crime — and  never  was  again  seen  to 
smile.  The  nervousness  of  his  body  and  the  horror  of  his  mind  were 
now  redoui)led.  He  doubted  not  that  this  fearless  and  plausible  pamphlet 
would  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  enthusiast  who  would  be  nerved  to 
frenzy  by  it.  He  wore  armour  beneath  his  clothes,  and  constantly  car- 
ried pistols  with  him,  never  travelled  twice  by  the  same  road,  and  rarely 
slept  more  than  a  second  night  in  the  same  chamber.  Though  he  was 
always  strongly  guarded,  such  was  the  wretchedness  of  his  situation  thai 
even  this  did  not  insure  his  safety ;  for  where  more  probably  than  among 
the  fanatical  soldiery  could  an  assassin  be  found  1  Alone,  he  fell  into  mel- 
ancholy; in  company,  he  was  uncheered  ;  and  if  strangers,  of  however 
high  character,  approached  somewhat  close  to  his  person,  it  was  in  a  tone 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


603 


;ation  in 
lind  and 
!r  direc- 
:,  whose 
tminster 
husband, 
,nd  olhet 
the  pro- 
;3romwell 
(r  money, 
but  such 
ted  treas- 
lie  conse- 
e  soldiery 
will  alone 
lured  well 
ition,  Col- 
•oiieously, 
usted  and 
than  the 
lions  in  a 
"  KiuiNO 
been  done 
the  col- 
positive 
jquenl  de- 

wolf  V 
al,  we  say, 
in  seen  to 
nind  were 
e  pamphlet 
nerved  to 
lanlly  cat- 
and  rarely 
gh  lie  was 
iiation  thai 
:han  among 
>1\  into  mel- 
,f  however 
las  ia  a  tone 


less  indicative  of  anger  than  of  actual  and  a^ronizing  terror  that  he  bade 
them  stand  off. 

The  strong  constitution  of  Cromwell  at  length  gave  way  beneatli  this 
iccumulation  of  horrors.  He  daily  became  thinner  and  more  feeble,  and 
•re  long  was  seized  with  a  tertian  ague,  which  carried  him  off  in  a  wei'k,  in 
;he  ninth  year  of  his  unprincipled  usurpation,  and  in  the  fifty-ninth  of  his 
ige,  on  the  third  of  Septembfjr,  1659. 

A.  D.  16.59. — Though  Cromwell  was  delirious  from  the  effects  of  his 
mortal  illness,  he  had  a  sufficiently  lucid  interval  to  allow  of  his  putting  the 
trowning  stroiie  to  his  unparalleled  treason.  This  slayer  of  his  lawful 
sovereign,  this  mere  private  citizen,  who  had  only  made  his  first  step 
from  extreme  obscurity  under  pretence  of  a  burning  and  inextinguishable 
natred  of  monarchy,  now,  when  on  the  very  verge  of  death,  had  the  cool 
dudacity  and  impudence  to  name  his  son  Richard  as  his  successor — for- 
(iooth! — as  though  his  usurped  power  were  held  by  hereditary  right,  or  as 
though  his  son  and  the  grandson  of  a  small  trader  were  better  qualified 
than  any  other  living  man  for  the  office,  on  the  supposition  of  its  being 
ileelive !  In  the  annals  of  the  world  we  know  of  no  instance  of  impudence 
«eyond  this. 

But  though  named  by  his  father  to  the  protectorate,  Richard  Cromwell 
had  none  of  his  father's  energy  and  but  little  of  his  evil  ambition.  Ac- 
customed to  the  stern  rule  and  sagacious  activity  of  the  deceased  usurper, 
the  army  very  speedily  showed  its  unwillingness  to  transfer  its  allegiance 
to  Richard,  and  a  committee  of  the  leading  officers  was  assembled  at 
Fleetwood's  residence,  and  called,  after  it,  the  cabal  of  Wallingford.  The 
first  step  of  this  association  was  to  present  to  the  yoimg  protector  a  re- 
monstrance requiring  th  -t  the  command  of  the  army  should  be  intrusted 
to  some  person  who  possessed  the  confidence  of  the  officiers.  As  Ri(;hard 
was  thus  plainly  informed  that  he  had  not  that  confidence,  he  had  no 
choice  but  to  defend  his  title  by  force,  or  to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity 
and  give  in  his  resignation  of  an  authority  to  the  importance  of  which  he 
was  signally  unequal.  He  chose  the  latter  course  ;  and  having  signed  a 
formal  abdication  of  an  office  which  he  ought  never  to  have  filled,  he 
lived  for  some  years  in  France  and  sut)sequently  settled  at  Cheshnnt,  in 
Hertfordshire,  where  as  a  private  gentleman  he  lived  to  a  very  advanced 
age,  in  the  enjoyment  of  competence  and  a  degree  of  happiness  which 
was  never  for  an  instant  the  companion  of  his  father's  guilty  greatness. 
The  cabal  of  Wallingford,  having  thus  readdy  and  quietly  disposed  of  Pro- 
tector Richard,  now  saw  the  necessity  of  establishing  something  like  a 
formal  government;  and  the  rump  parliament,  whi(!h  Oliver  Cromwell 
had  so  unceremoniously  turned  out  of  doors,  was  invited  to  reinstate  it- 
self in  authority.  But  upon  these  thoroughly  incapable  men  the  experi- 
ence of  past  days  was  wholly  thrown  away.  Forgetting  that  the  source 
of  their  power  was  the  brute'  force  of  the  army,  their  very  first  measures 
were  aimed  at  lessening  the  power  of  the  cabal.  The  latter  body,  per- 
ceiving that  the  parliament  proceeded  from  less  to  greater  proofs  of  ex- 
treme hostility,  determined  to  send  it  back  to  the  fitting  obscurity  of  pri- 
vate life.  Lambert  with  a  large  body  of  troops  accordingly  went  to  West- 
minster. Having  completely  surrounded  the  parliament  house  with  his 
men,  the  general  patiently  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  speaker,  Lentlial,  and 
when  that  personage  made  his  appearance  the  general  ordered  the  horses 
of  the  state  carriage  to  be  turned  round,  and  Lenlhal  was  conducted  home. 
The  like  civility  was  extended  to  the  various  members  as  they  successive- 
ly made  their  appearance,  and  the  army  pro(.>eeded  to  keep  a  solemn  fast 
by  way  of  celebrating  the  annihilation  of  this  disgraceful  parliament. 

But  the  triumph  of  the  army  was  short.  If  Fleetwood,  Lambert,  and 
the  o'lier  leading  officers  anticipated  the  possibility  of  placing  one  of  them- 
(lelves  111  the  state  of  evil  pre-eminence  occupied  by  the  late  protector 


604 


THE  TREASJJRY  OP  HISTORY. 


ihey  had  egregijiisly  errod  in  overlookinjf  the  power  and  possible  inclina 
tion  of  General  Monk.  This  able  and  politic  officer,  it  will  be  recollected, 
had  been  intrusted  by  Cromwell  with  the  task  of  keeping  Scotland  in 
subservience  to  the  commonwealth  of  England.  He  had  an  army  of  up. 
wards  of  eight  thousand  veteran  troops,  and  the  wisdom  and  moderation 
with  which  he  had  governed  Scotland  gave  him  great  moral  influence  and 
a  proportionate  command  of  pecuniary  resources ;  and  when  the  dismissal 
of  the  rump  parliament  by  the  army  threw  the  inhabitants  of  London  into 
alarm  lest  an  absoh.te  military  tyranny  should  succeed,  the  eyes  of  all 
were  turned  upon  ;ionk,  and  every  one  was  anxious  to  know  whether  he 
would  throw  his  vas'.  power  into  this  or  into  that  scale. 

But  "  honest  Gj  orge  Monk,"  as  his  soldiers  with  affectionate  fimiliarity 
were  wont  to  tern  hi.n,  was  as  cool  and  silent  as  he  was  dexterous  and 
resolute.  As  soon  as  he  was  made  aware  of  the  proceedings  that  had 
taken  place  in  London  he  put  his  veteran  army  in  motion.  As  he  march- 
ed southward  upon  London  he  was  met  by  messenger  after  messenger, 
each  party  being  anxious  to  ascertain  for  which  he  intended  to  declare ; 
but  he  strictly,  and  with  an  admirable  firmness,  replied  to  all,  that  he  was 
on  his  way  to  inquire  into  the  state  of  affairs  and  aid  in  remedying  what- 
ever  might  be  wrong.  Still  maintaining  this  politic  reserve,  he  reached 
St.  Albans,  and  there  fixed  his  head-quarters. 

The  rump  parliament  in  the  meantime  had  re-assembled  without  oppo- 
sition from  the  Wallingford  cabal,  the  members  of  which  probably  feared 
to  act  while  in  ignorance  of  the  intentions  of  Monk,  who  now  sent  a  formal 
request  to  the  parliament  for  the  instant  removal  to  country-quarters  ol 
all  troops  stationed  in  London.  This  done,  the  parliament  dis.solved,aftei 
taking  measures  for  the  immediate  election  of  new  members. 

Sagacious  public  men  now  began  to  judge  that  Monk,  weary  of  the  ex- 
isting state  of  things,  had  resolved  to  restore  the  exiled  king,  but  Monk 
still  prefierved  the  most  profound  silence  until  the  assembling  of  a  new 
parliament  should  enable  him  rapidly  and  effectually  to  accomplish  his 
designs. 

The  only  person  who  seems  to  have  been  in  the  confidence  of  this  able 
man  was  a  Devonshire  gentleman  named  Morrice,  who  was  of  as  taciturn 
and  prudent  a  disposition  as  the  general  himself.  All  persons  who  sought 
the  general's  confidence  were  referred  to  Morrice,  and  among  the  number 
was  Sir  John  Granville,  who  was  the  servant  and  personal  friend  of  the 
exiled  king,  who  now  sent  him  over  to  England  to  endeavour  to  influence 
Monk.  Sir  John  when  referred  to  Morrice  more  than  once  replied  that 
he  held  a  commission  from  the  king,  and  that  he  could  open  his  business 
to  no  one  but  General  Monk  in  person.  This  pertinacity  and  caution  were 
precisely  what  Monk  required;  and  though  even  now  he  would  not  c  m- 
mit  himself  by  any  written  document,  he  personally  gave  Granville  such 
information  as  indluced  the  king  to  hasten  from  Breda,  the  governor  of 
which  would  fain  have  made  him  a  prisoner  under  the  pretence  of  paying 
him  honour,  and  settled  himself  in  Holland,  where  he  anxiously  awaited 
further  tidings  from  Monk. 

The  parliament  at  length  assembled,  and  it  became  very  generally  un- 
derstood that  the  restoration  of  the  monarchy  was  the  real  intention  of 
Monk  ;  but  so  great  and  obvious  were  the  perils  of  the  time,  that  for  a  few 
days  the  parliament  occupied  itself  in  merely  routine  business,  no  one 
daring  to  utter  a  word  upon  that  very  subject  which  every  man  had  the 
most  deeply  at  heart.  Monk  during  all  this  time  had  lost  no  opportunity 
of  observing  the  sentiments  of  the  new  parliament,  and  he  at  last  broke 
through  his  politic  and  well-sustained  reserve,  and  directed  Annesley,  the 
president  of  the  council,  to  inform  the  house  that  Sir  John  Granville  was 
at  its  door  with  a  lette.-  from  his  majesty.  The  effect  of  these  few  words 
was  electrical ;  the  whole  of  the  members  rose  from  their  seatt.  ai»'ihi*')*d 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


605 


)ut  oppo- 
)ly  feared 
it'a  formal 
larlers  ol 
Ived,  aftei 

of  the  ex- 

but  Monk 

;  of  a  new 

uplish  his 

»f  this  able 
as  taciturn 
vho  sougtit 
■he  number 
[end  of  the 
_  influence 
[eplied  that 
IS  business 
ulion  were 
.  not  c  iin- 
nville  such 
[overnor  of 
of  paying 
|ly  awaited 


Uie  news  with  a  burst  of  enthusiastic  cheering.  Sir  John  GranviUn  was 
now  called  in,  the  king's  letter  was  read,  and  the  proposals  it  made  for  the 
restoration  of  Charles  were  agreed  to  with  a  new  burst  of  cheering.  The 
jrrai!iou8  letter,  offering  an  indemnity  far  more  extensive  than  eould  have 
been  hoped  for  after  all  the  evil  that  had  been  done,  was  at  once  entered 
on  the  journals,  and  ordered  to  be  published,  that  the  people  at  large  might 
participate  in  the  joy  of  the  house.  Nothing  now  remained  to  obstruct 
the  return  of  Charles,  who,  after  a  short  and  prosperous  passage,  arrived 
in  London  on  the  twenty -ninth  of  May,  being  the  day  on  which  he  com- 
pleted his  thirtieth  year.  Everywhere  he  was  received  with  the  acclama> 
lions  of  assembled  multitudes  ;  and  so  numerous  were  the  congratulatory 
addresses  that  were  presented  to  him,  that  he  pleasantly  remarked,  that 
it  must  surely  have  been  his  own  fault  that  he  had  not  returned  sooner, 
as  it  was  plain  there  was  not  one  of  his  subjects  who  had  not  been  long 
wishing  for  him !  Alas  !  though  good-humouredly,  these  words  but  too 
truly  paint  the  terribly  and  disgracefully  inconstant  nature  of  the  multi- 
tude, who  are  ever  as  ready  to  praise  and  flatter  without  measure,  as  to 
blame  and  injure  without  just  cause. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

THE    REION    OF   CHARLES  II. 

A.  D.  16G0.— Handsome,  accomplished,  young,  and  of  a  singularly  cheer- 
ful and  affable  temper,  Charles  H.  ascended  his  throne  with  all  the  ap- 
parent  elements  of  a  just  and  universal  popularity,  especially  as  the  ignor- 
ance of  some  end  the  tyranny  of  others  had  by  this  time  taught  the  people 
of  England  to  ."-.aerstand  the  full  valueof  a  wise,  regular,  and  just  govern- 
ment. But  Charles  had  some  faults  which  were  none  the  less  mischievous 
because  they  were  the  mere  excesses  of  amiable  qualities.  His  good  na- 
ture was  attended  by  a  levity  and  carelessness  which  caused  him  to  leave 
the  most  faithful  services  and  the  most  serious  sacrifices  unrewarded,  and 
his  gayety  degenerated  into  an  indolence  and  self  indulgence  more  fitted 
to  the  effeminate  self-worship  of  a  Sybarite  than  to  the  public  and  respon- 
sible situation  of  the  king  of  a  free  and  active  people. 

One  of  the  first  cares  of  the  parliament  was  to  ptss  an  ict  of  indemnity 
for  all  that  had  passed;  but  a  special  exception  wa  >  laade  of  those  who 
liad  directly  and  personally  taken  part  in  the  murder  of  the  late  king. 
Three  of  the  most  prominent  of  these,  Cromwell,  Bradshaw,  and  Ireton, 
were  dead.  Hut  as  it  was  thought  that  some  signal  and  public  obloquy 
ouifht  to  be  thrown  upon  crime  so  enormous  as  theirs,  their  bodies  were 
disiiiterre,'.  suspended  from  the  gallows,  and  subsequently  buried  at  its 
foot.  Otluisof  the  regicides  were  proceeded  against,  and  more  or  less 
severely  punished  ;  but  Charles  showed  no  more  earnestness  in  vengeance 
iluin  in  gratitude,  and  there  never,  probably,  has  been  so  little  of  punish- 
ment inrticted  for  crime  so  extensive  and  so  frightful. 

Charles,  in  fact,  had  but  one  passion,  the  love  of  pleasure;  and  so  long 
;is  he  could  command  the  means  of  gratifying  that,  he,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  reign  especially,  seemed  to  care  but  little  how  his  ministers 
arranged  the  public  affairs.  It  was,  in  some  degree,  happy  for  the  na- 
tion that  Charles  was  thus  careless ;  tor  so  excessive  was  the  gladness 
of  the  nation's  loyalty  just  at  this  period,  that  had  Charles  been  of  a 
sterner  and  more  ambitious  character  he  would  have  hau  little  or  no 
difficulty  in  rendering  himself  an  absolute  monarch.  So  evident  was  the 
Miclinnion  of  ine  commons  to  go  to  extremes  in  order  to  gratify  the  king, 
itiiit  one  of  the  ministers,  Southampton,  seriously  contemplated  requiring 

he  enormous  amount  of  two  millions  as  the  king's  annual  revenue,  ^ 

'veniie  which  would  have  made  him  wholly  independent;  alike  of  h.\ 


60U 


THR  TREA8UaY  OP  HISTORY. 


people  and  the  law.  f'ortunately  the  wise  and  virtuous  Lord  Clarendon, 
altarlied  as  he  was  to  the  royal  master  whose  exile  and  privations  he  iiad 
faithiully  shared,  opposed  this  outrageous  wish  of  Southampton,  and  the 
revenue  of  the  king  was  fixed  more  moderately,  but  with  a  liberality 
which  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  feel  necessity  except  as  the  con- 
semiencn  of  the  extreme  imprudence  of  profusion. 

But  Charles  was  iti\c  of  those  persons  whom  it  is  almost  impot-rnle  to 
preserve  free  from  p  cuniary  necessity ;  and  he  sooii  bf  (v.nne  so  '(.■'-ly 
jnvolved  in  difficulfi<  -,  while  his  love  of  expensiv  ple'.JUix;  rem.iined 
unabated,  tha*  he  at  rnce  turned  his  thoughts  to  mania;;*:  a,-  amciiisot 
procuring  pec  aiiary  aid.  Catherine,  the  infiuita  of  P'rtugal,  v.a8  at  Ihjj 
time,  probably,  ihe  hivineliest  princesd  in  Euiope.  liii'.  sue  vza  wc  .thy, 
her  portion  amountinjf  to  three  iiundvfid  thousand  pounds  in  nioney,  to- 
gether  with  Bombay  in  the  East  Imiics,  and  tie  forli --s  of  Tangier  in 
Africa;  and  such  a  portion  had  too  Jiany  attruclions  for  the  needy  ^d 
pleasure-loving  Charles  ti)  ;illow  him  :•*  lay  much  stress  upon  the  infanta's 
want  of  personal  attractions.  The  dukes  of  Ormond,  >-Jo'.ithampton,  and 
the  able  and  clear-headed  Chancellor  Clareii'l<,>n  endfavoured  to  '.lissiia  j 
the  king  from  this  match,  cb'ofly  on  tht;  ^»rou;id  of  the  infanta  b(  ing  y,ui 
little  likely  to  iiave  children;  but  Charles  w;.s  r'-solule,  and  th;-  iufimt! 
became  queen  of  England,  an  honour  it  is  tp  be  iV-ared  tliat  6  .  'Nearly 
p!?n  based,  for  the  uumertjus  mistresses  of  tho  kiiig  were  jK'nniiteu,  if  not 
acpj!i*!y  ciiconraged,  ta  iniiull  her  by  their  familiar  pretence,  and  vie 
witl!  livi  in  luxury  olfUiined  at  her  cost. 

As  :i  M";; lit- of  procuring  large  sums  from  his  pirliament,  Charles  de- 
clared >'.m  (gains',  liio  Dutch.  The  hostilities  were  very  fiercely  carried 
on  by  hoth  parlies,  but  after  the  sacrifice  of  blood  and  treasure  to  an  im- 
in(;nso  lanount,  the  Dutch,  by  a  treaty  signed  at  Breda,  procured  peace 
by  ceding  to  England  the  American  colony  of  Ntin-York.  Though  this 
colony  was  justly  considered  as  an  important  acquisition,  the  whole  terms 
of  the  peace  were  not  considered  sufficiently  honourable  to  England, 
and  the  public  mind  became  much  exasperated  against  Clarendon,  wiio 
was  said  to  have  commenced  war  unnecessarily,  and  to  have  concluded 
peace  disgracefully.  Whatever  might  be  the  private  opinion  of  Charles, 
who,  probably,  had  far  more  than  Clarendon  to  do  witli  the  commence- 
ment of  the  war,  he  showed  no  desire  to  shield  his  minister,  whose  stead- 
fest  and  high-principled  character  had  long  been  so  distasteful  at  court 
that  he  had  been  subjected  to  the  insults  of  the  courtiers  and  the  slights  of 
the  king.  Under  such  circumstances  the  fate  of  Strafford  seemed  by  no 
means  unlikely  to  become  that  of  Clarendon,  Mr.  Seymour  bringing  sev- 
enteen articles  of  impeachment  against  him.  But  Clarendon  perceiving 
the  peril  in  which  he  was  placed,  and  riglitly  judging  that  it  was  in  vain  to 
oppose  the  popular  clamour  when  that  was  aided  by  the  ungrateful  cold- 
ness of  the  court  went  into  voluntary  exile  in  France,  where  he  devoted 
himself  to  literature. 

Freed  from  the  presence  of  Clarendon,  whose  rebuke  he  feared,  and 
whose  virtue  he  admired  but  could  not  imitate,  Charles  now  gave  the 
chief  direction  of  public  affairs  into  the  hands  of  certain  partakers  f  nis 
pleasures.  Sir  Thomas  Clifford,  Lord  Ashley,  afterwards  earl  of  Shaftes- 
bury,  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  Lord  Arlington,  and  the  duke  of  Lau- 
derdale, were  the  persons  to  whom  Charles  now  intrusted  lis  affairs,  and 
from  their  initials  this  ministry  was  known  by  the  title  of  the  cabal. 

A.  D.  1670. — The  members  of  the  cabal  were  undoubtedly  men  of  ability; 
learning,  wit,  and  accomplishment  being  absolui";  rei,uisites  to  the  ot). 
taining  of  Charles'  favour.  But  unhappily  that  vas  all — theirs'  was  the 
ability  oi  courtiers  rather  than  of  ministers;  they  vore  oetter  fitted  to 
season  thj  pleasures  of  the  prince,  than  to  provide  L.i  the  security  of  tiie 
throne  or  t'ic  welfare  of  the  people.    Thi  p;'  !lf  disc.uitent  was,  coiise 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


607 


arles  de- 
,y  carried 
to  an  ira- 
•ed  peace 
oiigh  this 
Ktle  terms 
England, 
idon,  wiio 
concluded 
f  Charles, 
ommence- 
ose  siead- 
at  court 
slights  of 
ncd  by  no 
iging  sev- 
perceiving 
3  in  vain  to 
ileful  cold- 
Lc  devoted 


quently,  vpry  great ;  it  was  but  too  deeply  and  widely  felt  that  such  a 
ministry  was  little  likely  to  put  an  tlTectual  check  upon  the  pniflifriite 
pleasures  wh'ch  made  the  Knglish  court  at  once  the  jjaycst  and  the  most 
vicious  court  in  all  Kurope. 

Nor  was  it  merely  from  the  character  of  the  ministry  and  the  dissipa 
ted  course  of  the  king  that  the  people  felt  discontented.  The  duke  of 
York,  the  presumptive  heir  to  the  tlirone,  though  a  brave  and  a  high- 
minded  man,  was  universally  believed  to  he  a  very  bigoted  papist ;  and 
enough  of  the  puritan  spirit  still  remained  to  make  men  dread  tliu  possible 
accession  of  a  papist  king. 

The  alarm  and  uneasiness  that  were  felt  on  this  point  at  length  reached 
to  such  a  height  that,  in  August  of  this  year,  as  the  king  was  walking  in 
St.  James'  park,  disporting  himself  with  some  of  the  beautiful  little  dogs 
of  which  he  was  quite  troublesomely  fond,  a  chemist,  named  Kirby,  ap- 
proached  his  majesty,  and  warned  him  that  a  plot  was  on  foot  against  him. 
"Keep,  sire,"  said  this  person,  "within  your  company;  your  enemies 
design  to  take  yonrlife,  and  you  may  be  shot  even  in  this  very  walk." 

News  so  startling,  and  at  the  same  time  so  consonant  with  llie  vague 
fears  and  vulgar  rumours  of  the  day,  naturally  led  to  farther  inquiries; 
and  Kirby  stated  that  he  had  his  information  from  a  Doctor  Tonge,  a 
clergyman,  who  had  assured  him  that  two  men,  named  Grove  and  Pick- 
ering, were  engaged  to  shoot  the  king,  and  that  the  queen's  physician, 
Sir  George  VVakeling,  had  agreed,  if  they  failed,  to  put  an  end  to  his 
majesty  by  poison.    The  matter  was  now  referred  to  Danby,  the  lord 
treasurer,  who  sent  for  Doctor  Tonge.    That  person  not  only  showed 
all  readiness  to  attend,  but  also  produced  a  bundle  of  papers  relative  to 
the  supposed  plot.    Questioned  as  to  the  manner  in  which  ho  became 
possessed  of  these  papers,  he  at  first  stated  that  they  were  thrust  under 
his  door,  and   subsequently  that  he  knew  the  writer  of  them,  wlio  re- 
quired his  name  to  be  concealed  lest  he  should  incur  the  deadly  anger  of 
the  Jesuits.     The  reader  will  do  well  to  remark  the  gross  inconsistency 
of  these  two  accounts;  it  is  chiefly  by  the  careful  noting  of  such  incon- 
sistencies   that   the    wise    see  through    the    subtly-woven    falsehoods 
which  are  so  commonly  believed  by  the  credulous  or  the  careless.     Had 
the  papers  really  been  thrust  beneath  the  man's  door,  as  he  at  first  pre- 
tended, how  should  he  know  the  author  ?     If  the  author  was  known  to 
him,  to  what    purpose    the    stealthy   way  of   forwarding  the   papers  1 
Charles  himself  was  far  too  acute  a  reasoner  to  overlook  this  gross  in- 
consistency, and  he  flatly  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  whole  affair  was 
a  clumsy  fiction.     But  Tonge  was  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  miscreants  who 
would  not  so  readily  be  disconcerted,  and  he  was  now  sent  again  to  the 
lord  treasurer  Danby,  to  inform  him  that  a  packet  of  treasonable  letters 
was  on  its  way  to  the  Jesuit  Bedingfield,  the  duke  of  York's  confessor. 
Bvsome  chance  Tonge  gave  this  information  some  hours  after  the  duke 
of  I'ork  ha<l  himself  been  put  in  possession  of  these  letters,  which  he  had 
shown  to  the  king  as  a  vulgar  and  ridiculous  forgery  of  which  he  could 
not  discover  the  drift. 

Hitherto  all  attempts  at  producing  any  effect  by  means  of  these  alledged 
treasonable  designs  had  failed,  and  the  chief  manufacturer  of  them,  TitUB 
Gates,  now  came  forward  wiih  a  weil-feigned  unwillingness.  This  man 
had  from  his  youth  upward  been  an  abandoned  character.  He  had  been 
indi"!ed  for  gross  perjury-  and  had  subsequently  been  dismissed  from  the 
chapii(i;i(^y  of  a  man-o!  war  ior  a  yet  more  disgraceful  crime,  and  he  then 
professed  to  be  aconvei.  to  papacy,  and  actually  was  for  some  time  main- 
tained ir  the  Knglish  spminarv  at  St.  Omer's.  Redu(;ed  to  actual  desti- 
tution, he  seems  lo  have  fastened  upon  Kirby  and  Tonge,  as  weak  and 
credulous  men,  whosf;  very  weakness  and  credulity  would  make  them  in- 
trepid in  the  assertion  ot  such  falsehoods  as  he  might  choose   to  instil 


608 


THE  TREASUaV  OF  HISTORY. 


into  tlr  AT  minds  Of  his  own  motivps  wo  may  form  a  shrewd  guess  lron» 
the  fact  that  he  was  supported  hy  the  actual  charity  of  Kirby,  ai  a  ,„(,. 
ment  when  ho  affncted  to  have  the  duo  to  mysteries  closely  touching  the 
king's  life  and  involving  the  lives  of  numerous  persons  of  consequence. 

Though  vulgar,  illiterate,  and  rufTianly,  this  man,  Gates,  was  cunning  and 
daring.  Finding  that  his  pretended  information  was  of  no  avail  in  pro- 
cnring  himself  court  favour,  he  now  resolved  to  see  what  effect  it  would 
have  upon  the  already  alarmed  and  anxious  minds  of  the  people.  He  ac- 
cordingly went  before  Sir  Edmondbury  Godfrey,  a  gentleman  in  great 
celebrity  for  his  activity  as  a  magistrate,  and  desired  to  make  a  deposi- 
tion to  the  effect  that  the  pope,  judging  the  heresy  of  the  king  and  people 
a  sufficient  ground,  had  assumed  the  sovereignty  of  Kngl.unl,  Scotland 
and  Ireland,  and  had  condemned  the  king  as  a  heretic  ,  the  death  to  be 
inflicfed  by  Grove  and  Pickering  who  were  to  shoot  him  with  silver  buj. 
lets.  The  Jesuits  and  the  pupe  having  thus  disposed  of  the  king,  whom 
according  to  this  veritable  d(!position,  they  styled  the  black  ba.stard,  the 
crown  was  to  be  offered  to  the  duke  of  York  on  the  condition  that  he 
should  wholly  extirpate  the  protestant  religion  ;  but  if  the  duke  refused 
to  comi)iy  with  that  condition,  then  .lames,  too,  was  to^'o  to  pot. 

The  mere  vulgarity  of  this  deposition  might  have  led  the  people  to  im- 
ply its  falsehood;  for  whatever  might  be  the  other  faults  of  the  Jesuits 
they  were  not,  as  educated  men,  at  all  likely  to  use  the  style  of  speech 
which  so  (!oarse  and  illiterate  a  wretch  as  Gates  attributed  to  them.  But 
popular  terror  not  uncommonly  produces,  temporarily,  at  least,  a  popular 
madness  ;  and  the  at  once  atrocious  and  clumsy  falsehoods  of  this  man, 
whose  very  destitution  was  the  consequence  of  revolting  crimes,  wereac 
cepted  by  the  people  as  irrefragable  evidence,  and  he  was  himself  hailed 
and  caressed  as  a  friend  and  protector  of  protestantism  and  prutestanis! 
Before  tlie  council  he  repeatedly  and  most  grossly  contradicted  himself^ 
but  the  effect  his  statements  had  upon  the  public  mind  was  saeh,  timt  it 
was  deemed  necessary  to  order  the  apprehension  of  the  principal  persons 
named  as  being  cognizant  of  this  plot,  among  whom  were  several  Jesuits, 
and  Coleman,  secretary  to  the  duke  of  York. 

A  singular  circumstance  now  ocMirred,  which  gives  but  too  much  rea- 
son  to  fear  that  perjury  was  by  no  moans  the  worst  of  the  crimes  to  whii.h 
Gates  resorted  to  procure  the  success  of  his  vile  scheme.  Sir  Kdmond- 
bury  Godfrey,  the  magistrate  who  first  gave  Gates  importance  by  allowing 
him  to  reduce  his  lying  statements  inio  a  formal  and  regular  deposition" 
was  suddenly  missed  from  his  house,  and,  after  a  lapse  of  several  davi<, 
found  barbarously  murdered  in  a  ditch  at  Primrose-hill,  near  London. 
No  sooner  was  this  known  than  the  people  came  to  tbe  conclusion  that 
Sir  Edmondbury  had  been  murdered  by  the  Jesuits,  in  revenge  for  the 
willingness  he  had  shown  to  receive  the  information  of  Gates.  Dut,  look- 
ingat  the  desperate  character  of  the  latter,  does  it  not  seem  far  more  proba- 
ble that  he  caused  the  murder  of  the  credulous  magistrate,  trusting 
that  it  would  have  the  very  effect  which  it  did  produce  upon  the  credu- 
lous people  1  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  discovery  of  the  deceased 
gentleman's  body  greatly  increased  the  public  agitation;  the  corpse 
was  carried  in  procession  by  seventy  clergymen,  and  no  one  who  valued 
his  personal  safety  ventured  to  hint  that  the  murder  might  probably  not 
have  been  the  work  of  the  detested  Jesuits. 

From  the  mere  vulgar,  the  alarm  and  agitation  soon  spread  to  the  bet- 
ter-informed classes,  and  at  length  it  was  moved  in  parliament  that  a  sol- 
fimn  fast  should  be  appointed,  that  the  house  should  have  all  papers  that 
■were  calculated  to  throw  a  light  upon  the  horrid  plot,  that  all  known  pa- 
pists should  be  ordered  to  leave  London,  and  all  unknown  or  suspicions 
persons  forbidden  to  present  themselves  at  court,  and  that  the  train  bamls 
»f  London  and  Westminster  should  be  kept  in  const-int  readiness  for  action 


TUB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


«0«. 


Irom 

mo- 

;  llie 

I'C. 

gand 

pro- 
would 
le  ac- 

great 
epoBi- 
people 
)ilaud, 

to  be 
iT  Iml- 
whom, 
ird,  the 
that  lie 
refused 

1  to  im- 

jeHuits, 

speech 
m.    But 

popular 
his  man, 
were  ae 
ilf  hailed 
itcslants! 

himself, 
!h,  tliiil  it 
il  persons 
al  Jesuits, 

mrh  rea- 
to  which 
I'Minond- 
allowing 
jepofilion, 
[eral  days', 
|r  London, 
ision  that 
le  for  the 
[but,  look- 
lore  proba- 
E>,  trusting 
Lhe  credu- 
deceased 
[ho    corpse 
Lho  valued 
[obably  not 

to  Ihebel- 
thai  a  sol- 
papers  that 
known  P'i- 
suspicions 

I  train  hamts 
for  action 


The  miscreant  wliosc  falselioods  hucl  raised  all  liiis  alarm  and  anxiety 
was  tliankcil  by  parlitiinciil  and  pcotniru  iidcd  to  the  favour  of  thf  king, 
who  conferred  upon  him  a  pension  of  twelve  hundred  p()und»  per  annum, 
■uid  a  resideufo  in  VVliileiiall.  Such  reward  bestowed  upon  such  a  ehar- 
uter  and  for  such  "public-  services"  naturally  produced  a  rival  for  public 
fiMdir,  and  a  fellow  named  William  Uedloe  now  made  his  appea.nice  in 
the  character  of  informer,  lie  was  of  even  lower  ori^'in  and  more  infa- 
mous noti'  tiiaii  Gates,  iiavinw  been  repeatedly  convicted  of  theft.  HeiiiB 
iit  Uristol  and  in  a  state  of  destitution,  be  at  his  own  -e(iuest  was  arrestee! 
and  sent  to  London.  When  examined  before  the  council  he  stated  tbit 
lie  had  .seen  the  body  of  the  murdered  Sir  Edmondbury  (Jodfrey  at  the 
then  residence  of  the  fineen,  Somerset-honse,  and  tint  a  servant  of  the 
|,(ird  Hellasis  had  ofTered  him  four  thousand  pounds  to  carry  if  off  and 
conceal  it !  Improbable  as  the  tale  was  it  was  <freedily  received,  and  the 
lufTiaiiH,  Gate-  nnd  Uedloe,  findinij  that  credit  was  srjven  to  whatever  they 
iliosc  to  assert,  now  ventured  a  step  farther,  and  accused  the  (lucon  ot 
heiiig  an  accomplice  in  all  the  evil  doings  and  desiirnsof  the  Jesuits.  The 
limiseof  commons,  to  its  great  disgrace,  addressed  the  king  in  support  of 
this  scandalous  attack  upon  his  already  but  too  unhappy  queen  ;  but  the 
liinjs,  with  better  judgment  and  more  manly  feeling,  rejected  the  accusa- 
tion with  the  contempt  which  it  merited. 

The  conjunction  of  two  .such  intrepid  perjurers  rj  Gates  and  Bedloe 
iv;is  oniiMous  indeed  to  the  mifortunate  persons  vliom  they  accused  ;  and 
it  is  but  little  to  the  credit  of  the  piiblii;  men  of  chat  day  that  they  did  not 
iiilerferc  to  prevent  any  prisoner  being  tried  up(  n  their  evidence  as  to  the 
f.ihlcd  plot,  until  the  public  mind  should  have  been  allowed  a  reasonable 
time  ill  which  to  recover  from  its  heat  and  exacerbation.  No  such  delay 
v.iis  even  proposed,  and  while  cunning  was  still  triumphant  snd  credulity 
still  agape,  Edward  Coleman,  the  duke  of  York's  secretary,  wis  put  upon 
his  trial.  Here,  as  before  the  council.  Gates  and  Uedloe,  though  incon- 
sistent with  each  other,  and  each  with  himself,  yet  agreed  in  their  main 
sl;itements,  that  Coleman  had  not  only  leagued  for  the  assassination  of  the 
king,  but  had  even,  as  his  reward  for  so  doing,  r'foivcd  a  commission, 
siiriieJ  by  llie  superior  of  the  Jesuits,  appointing  liim  papal  secretary  of 
shito  of  these  kingdoms.  Coleman,  who  behaved  with  equal  modesty 
ind  firmuess,  denied  all  the  guilt  that  was  lai('  to  his  charge.  Rut  he 
louM  not  prove  a  negative,  and  his  mere  denial  i.'Vailed  nothing  against 
:'in  positive  swearing  of  the  informers.  He  wa.^  condemned  to  death; 
iiiil  then  several  members  of  both  houses  of  parliament  ofTered  to  inter- 
pose to  procure  linn  the  king's  pardon  on  condition  that  'ic  would  make 
II  full  confession.  But  the  unfortunate  gentleman  was  iiii.ocent,  and  was 
f;ir  too  high-minded  to  save  his  life  by  falsely  accusing  hiir.^alf  and  others. 
He  still  firmly  denied  his  guilt,  and,  to  the  eternal  disgrace  of  Ciiarles, 
was  executed. 

Tiio  blood  of  Coleman  satiated  neither  the  informers  nor  the  public. 
Pickering,  Grove,  and  Ireland  wore  next  put  upon  their  trial,  condemned, 
;ind  executed.  That  they  were  innocent  we  have  no  doubt;  but  they 
were  Jesuits,  and  that  was  sufficient  to  blunt  all  sympathy  with  their  fate. 

Hill,  Green,  and  Berry  were  now  charged  with  being  the  actual  mur* 
lerers  of  Sir  Emondbnry  Godfrey.  In  this  case  the  information,  which 
vas  laid  by  Bedloe,  was  wholly  irreconcilable  with  the  evidence  which 
vas  given  by  a  fellow  named  Prance,  and  there  was  good  evidence  that 
vas  at  variance  with  them  both.  But  the  prisoners  were  found  guilty 
iiid  exeouteJ,  all  three  in  their  dying  moments  professing  their  inno- 
-•ence.  As  Berry  was  a  protestant,  this  made  some  impression  upon 
(he  minds  of  the  more  reasonable,  bid  the  public  was  not  even  yet  pre- 
pared to  be  dis  ib"'sod. 

Whitbrcad,  pMU-ncial  of  the  Jesuit;'  and  Gavan,  Fcnwick,  Turner, 
Vol.  l.~-6'J 


fS,' 


Alil 


T:IR  TRKAailRY  or  HTSTORT. 


and  Harconrt,  brptlin-n  of  tlif>  »>;imp  orfler,  wpip  next  tried.  Bpiide« 
Oitcs  and  Hcdlof,  a  wn-tch  naiix'd  Diijjdale  appeared  against  tlieae 
priKoncrs,  and  in  addition  to  and  ui  support  of  the  incredible  and  mon- 
HtrouH  aHsrrtiofis  of  OafPH  and  Uedior,  hf  dtdiberately  swore  that  there  were 
two  hnndred  ttiDUHand  papists  at  that  very  moment  ready  to  take  arms. 
And  yet  the  alledft'd  lealers  and  instigators  of  this  huge  army  of  arrnpf) 
and  maligniint  pi,  sis  wi  --e  daily  benig  bronjjhl  to  trial,  condemned,  and 
biitr-here'l,  nnder  the  jfiinrd  of  a  Hcore  or  two  of  constables  !  But  re*, 
soning  conid  not  possibly  be  of  any  avail  in  that  veritable  reign  of  terror 
for  even  direct  and  sworn  evidence  in  favour  of  the  accused  persons  wa« 
treated  w.ili  contempt.  For  instance,  or\  this  very  trial  sijricen  wiinnnfes 
proved  that  Ihftj  and  Oalrs  wnrf  together  in  the  seminary  of  St.  Omar's  nn 
thf  1  .  y  day  in  which  that  ruffian's  testimony  had  stated  him  to  have  been  in 
hmi'on.  But  these  witnesses  were  p  tpists — their  evidence  received  not 
thf  slightest  attentirr',  and  the  unforl."iate  prisoners  were  conde  nned 
and  executed,  protesting  in  their  latji  moments  their  entire  innocence  o( 
the  crimes  laid  to  thelc  charge. 

Sir  (leorge  Wakeman,  the  queen's  physician,  was  now  brought  to  trial, 
but  was  more  fortunate  than  the  persons  previously  accused.  The  vile 
informers,  it  is  true,  swore  with  their  accustomed  and  dauntless  fluency ; 
but  to  have  convicted  Sir  George,  would,  under  nil  the  circumstances  of 
the  case,  have  inferred  the  guilt  of  the  queen.  The  judge  and  jury  were 
probably  apprehensive  that  even  the  culpable  and  cruel  indolence  of 
Charles  would  not  allow  the  prevalent  villainy  to  proceed  to  that  extent, 
and  Sir  George  was  honourably  acquitted. 

A.  D  1672. — For  upwards  of  two  years  the  horrible  falsehoods  of  O.iles 
had  deluded  the  mind  of  the  public,  and  shed  the  blood  of  the  innocent, 
But  he  and  his  abominable  associate  were  not  yet  weary  of  evil  doin?, 
Hitherto  the  victims  had  been  chiefly  priests  and  scholars,  to  whose  title 
of  Jesuits  the  vulgar  attributed  everything  that  was  most  dangerous 
and  terrible.  But,  as  if  to  show  that  rank  the  most  eminent  and  age 
the  most  reverend  were  as  worthless  in  their  eyes  as  I'le  piety  an' 
learning  of  sincere,  however  erroneous,  religionists,  the  informinir  mis- 
creants now  brought  forward  a  last  victim  in  the  person  of  the  earl  of 
Stafford.  The  fiercest  wild  beast  is  not  fiercer  or  more  unreasoning 
than  a  deluded  and  enraged  multitude.  The  cry  against  the  venera- 
ble earl  of  Stafford  was  even  louder  than  it  had  been  against  the  formtr 
prisoners.  Gates  positively  swore  that  he  saw  one  of  the  Jesuits  who 
had  lately  been  cor-lemned,  Fenwick,  deliver  to  the  earl  of  Staff'ord  a 
commission  signed  by  the  general  of  the  Jesuits,  constituting  the  earl  pay- 
master-general of  the  Jesuit  or  papal  army.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  ven 
arable  nobleman  asserted  his  innocence,  and  pointed  out  the  improba- 
bility of  his  feeble  age  being  concerned  in  plots;  he  was  condemned  to 
be  hung  and  quartered.  Charles  changed  the  sentence  to  beheading,  and 
the  earl  suff'ered  accordingly  upon  Tower-hill. 

The  parliament,  which  had  now  sat  seventeen  years,  was  dissolved, 
but  a  new  one  was  called,  which  will  ever  be  memorable  on  account  of 
one  law  whicli  it  passed ;  we  allude  to  the  invaluable  habeas  corpus  act. 
By  this  act  the  jailor  who  is  summoned  must  have  or  produce  the  body 
of  a  prisoner  in  court  and  certify  the  cause  of  his  deten'ion,  within  three 
days  if  within  twenty  miles  of  the  judge,  and  so  on  for  greater  distances; 
no  prisoner  to  be  sent  to  prison  beyond  the  sea ;  every  prisoner  to  be  in- 
dicted the  first  term  after  ommitment  and  tried  in  the  next  term,  an^  no 
man  to  be  recommitted  for  thes^'me  off'ence  after  being  enlarged  by  court; 
heavy  penalties  upon  ai!y  judge  refusing  any  prisoner  his  writ  of  haheai 
corpus.  Human  wisdom  could  scarcely  devise  a  more  eflfectual  safpcriiard 
to  the  subject  than  this  act.  On  the  othei  hand,  it  can  never  be  perilous 
1o  the  'hrcne,  becaiije  in  times  of  sedition  or  violence  oarliamenf  fii 


THK  THICA8UH 


^r  HIriTORY. 


fell 


idff 
iPse 
lon- 
vere 
rnis. 
rtnrd 
,  Hnd 
res- 
error, 
s  was 

•r's  on 
ie«n  in 
ed  not 
e  nned 
;nce  ol 

to  trial, 
'he  vile 
lurncy ; 
uces  of 
ry  were 
leiice  of 
it  extent, 

of  Gates 

innocent. 

nl  doing. 

hose  tiile 

Jangerous 
and  age 

piety  aiv' 

Tiiii'4  mis- 

llhe  earl  of 
[reasoning 

le  venera- 
.he  formir 
.suits  who 
Stafford  a 
e  earl  pay- 
it  the  ven 
|e  improba- 
|demned  to 
jading,  and 

_  dissolved, 
■account  of 
1  corpus  act. 
Ije  the  body 
vithin  three 
•  distances; 
Jier  10  be  in- 
lerm,  arid  no 
Ted  by  court; 
lit  of  hnhtai 
L\  safeguard 
Ir  be  perilous 
ViamenT  t'n 


lutpemi  the  rxccution  of  this  act  fur  a  «hnrt  and  dpAiute  time,  at  the  end 
of  which  time  thia  ^rcat  s.ifei^uaril  of  our  lilurtifs  nturiinto  its  full  force. 
The  criminal  and  (h8|;racfful  cuiiipLusaricc  with  which  the  Kuvt-rnmenl 
had  allowi'il  the  perjured  informers  to  tlouri<th  unchecked,  caused  a  new 
plot  discoverer  to  present  himself  in  the  person  of  a  worthy,  named  Dan- 
gcrfield,  whose  previous  life  hud  been  diversified  by  experience  of  the 
pillory,  the  ..<cour;je,  the  branding-iron,  and  a  residence,  as  a  convict,  in 
the  plantations.  This  fellow,  in  conjunction  with  a  mi>iuiic  of  bad  char- 
acter, named  Collier,  came  forw.ird  to  denounce  a  (dot,  of  which  he  al- 
ledgcd  the  existence,  for  removini;^  the  king  and  royal  family  and  setting 
up  a  new  form  of  government.  This  fellow  look  his  information  direct 
tu  the  king  and  the  duke  of  York,  who  weakly,  if  we  must  not  rather  say 
Mickedly,  supplied  him  with  money,  and  thus  patroni/ed  and  encouraged 
him  in  his  course.  Dutermined  to  make  the  most  of  his  fortune.  Danger 
field  deposited  some  writings  of  a  most  seditious  ch:iracter  in  the  houso 
ofainilit;'iy  officernamcd  Mansel.  Having  so  placed  the  papers  that  they 
were  certain  to  bo  discovered  by  any  one  searching  the  apartments,  Dan- 
gerfield,  without  saying  a  word  about  the  papers,  went  to  the  custom-house 
and  sent  ofTicers  to  Mansel's  to  search  for  smuggled  goods.  There  were 
110  such  goods  there,  as  Dangerfield  well  knew,  but,  exactl>  as  he  had  an- 
licipiileJ,  the  officerM  found  the  concealed  papers,  examined  them,  and  felt 
it  to  be  their  duly  to  lay  them  before  the  council.  Either  Daiigerfield  wa» 
already  suspected,  or  somelhiiig  iu  the  papers  themselves  indicated  for- 
gery ;  for  the  council  were  so  convinced  that  the  documents  were  Dan- 
gerfield's  own  production,  that  they  issued  an  order  that  a  strict  search 
should  immediately  be  made  in  all  places  which  he  had  been  known  to 
frequent.  In  the  course  of  the  search  the  house  of  the  midwife  Collier 
was  visited,  and  there,  concealed  iu  a  meal- tub,  the  officers  found  a  paper 
which  contained  the  whole  scheme  of  the  conspiracy  to  the  most  minute 
particulars.  Upon  this  discovery  the  wretch,  Dangerfield,  was  sent  to 
Newgate,  where  he  made  a  "confession,"  which  probably  was  as  false 
;istlie  former  statement  that  he  had  made,  for  he  now  represented  that  to 
the  lying  lule  he  had  formerly  told  he  had  been  instigated  by  the  countess 
ol  Powis,  the  earl  of  Castlemain,  and  others.  And  though  it  was  so  much 
more  probable  that  the  miscreant  had  all  along  lied  from  his  own  inven- 
tion and  in  his  own  greediness  of  gain,  the  carl  and  countess  were  actually 
sent  to  the  Tower. 

What  has  always  made  us  attach  deep  blame  and  disgrace  to  Charles' 
conduct  iu  allowing  so  many  innocent  lives  to  be  sacrificed  to  the  venal 
cruelty  of  informers,  is  the  fact,  that  while  the  informers  attributed  plots 
10  tlie  Jesuits,  and  stated  the  objects  of  those  plots  to  be  the  setting 
up  of  the  papist  duke  of  York  in  the  place  of  the  king,  Charles  must 
necessarily  have  known  that  the  Jesuits  were  a  mere  handful,  as  com- 
pared  to  tie  protestants,  and  that  the  very  last  man  whom  eitbisr  pro- 
testant  or  papist  throughout  England  would  have  substituted  for  the  easy, 
though  profligate  Charles,  was  James,  duke  of  York.  In  Scotland  Janiesi 
haa  made  himself  perfectly  hated,  and  both  the  English  parlianieii'.  and 
the  English  people  every  year  gave  pew  and  stronger  proof  of  the  dread 
with  which  they  contemplated  even  the  possibility  of  the  succession  of 
laRies,  In  the  war  with  the  Dutch  he  had  shown  himself  a  brave  and 
skilful  officer,  but  his  gloomy  temper,  his  stern,  unsparing  disposition,  and 
the  bigotry  which  he  was  universally  known  to  possess,  made  courage 
and  military  conduct,  however  admirable  in  other  men,  in  him  only  two 
terrors  the  m"re.  Charles  well  knew  this  ;  so  well,  that  when  James  one 
4ay  warned  hun  against  exposing  himself  too  much  while  so  many  plots 
«nd  rumours  of  plots  disturbed  the  general  mind,  Charles,  as  gayly  as 
iruly  replied,  "  Tilly  vally,  James  !  There  be  none  so  silly  as  to  shoot 
me  in  order  to  make  you  king!"    This  unpopularity  of  James  led  to  mor« 


rfl3 


TIIK  TItEAeUllY  OF  HIBTORY, 


ili.iii  our  utti  in|i(  on  tlic  jiart  oftlif  liritixr  of  contnoiis  to  pr  >-ur<'  the  n 
( iuHJoii  iif  liiiii  from  tlic  ihroiii;  ini  the  ^'riMiiid  o|  \\\n  t)i'jii((  a  niipjHt.  Thf 
lievv  |i.kili'itiii'iit  hinl  scari'ily  sal  a  wcik  ere  it  n-iu'wrd  a  hill,  tmiitil  <»,h 
exchisiKii  l)ill,  whicli  ihi'  roiiiicr  hmi^d'  had  voted,  but  -which  li  id  not 
|i:i8!40i|  thr  u|i|i<'r  hoii^f  at  the  tiini  or  tlir  disHoliition  o(  parhaiiifnt.  The 
party  of  thi-  (hike,  ihoii;4h  infliii'iitial,  was  iiniiiirirally  winik  oiitofdoori- 
for  hcHidcs  those  wlio  lialcd  him  as  a  [lapist,  and  ilrradcd  him  ns  n  Mtcm 
(liscipliiiiii'iaii,  then;  ucre  |rreiit  iiiiiiil)ei'K  u  ho  liopod  that  the  t'xcjiisinti  of 
Ihi!  duke  would  [nociire  the  throne  for  the  duke  of  Monmouth,  tho  haiiij. 
«om<;  and  highlv  jMipuhir  son  of  the  kin;j  by  one  of  liiM  numrrous  mis. 
trt'Hses,  named  i,u(  y  \Vatern.  Hut  tlic  intlucnce  of  the  kin^jwas  powerful 
in  tho  house,  and  after  a  hin;f  debate,  not  too  tem|)erat(dy  eondiieled  upon 
either  8id«!,  the  exclusion  bill  was  thrown  out  by  a  rather  considerable 
majority. 

With  informerH  and  "plots,"  lib'  llous  pain[)hlcts had  incrrased  in  ntiin. 
bcr  to  an  extent  that  could  scarcely  be  credited.  Kaeli  party  seemed  lo 
think  that  tho  hardest  words  and  the  most  severe  imputations  were  only 
too  mild  for  its  o[)ponentri,  and  the  hired  iil)eller  now  vied  in  industry  and 
importuiKte  with  the  venal  and  perjin-ed  informer 

An  idle  and  piofli((aic  fellow,  a   sort  of  led  captain  in  the  pay  of  the 
kind's  profli^fato  mistress,  the  duchess  of  Portsmouth,  was  employed  to 
procure  her  the  piquant  libels  which  were  occasionally  published  upon  the 
king  and  the  duke  of  York.     This  man  not  Jindiiig  the  existent  libels  snf. 
ficiently  abusive,  determined  to  surpass  them,  and  he  called  to  his  aid  a 
Scotchman  named  Kverard.     Between  them  they  composed  a  most  ran- 
corous and  scurrilous  libel,  which  Fitzharris  hastened  to  get  printed.    Dm 
the  Scotchman,  Kverard,  imagined  that  his  Irish  fellow-libeller,  as  a  hanger- 
on  of  the  king's  mistress,  could  have  had  no  possible  motive  for  employ- 
ing  him  but  the  wish  tu  betray  him.     Indignant  at  the  supposed  design, 
Everard  went  and  laid  information  before  Sir  William  Waller,  a  justice 
of  tho  peace,  and  Filzliarris  was  apprehended  with  a  copy  of  the  libel 
actually  in  his  possession.     Finding  himself  placed  in  considerable  peril 
of  the  pillory,  Fitzharris,  who,  be  it  observed,  was  an  Irish  papist,  tiiriipd 
round  upon  the  court,  and  btated,  not  without  some  appearance  of  truth, 
that  he  had  been  employed  by  the  court  to  write  a  libel  so  foul  and  vio. 
lent,  that  the  exclusion  party,  to  whom  it  would  be  attributed,  would  be 
injured  in  the  estimation  of  all  people  of  sober  judgment.     In  order  to 
render  this  talc  still  more  palatable  to  the  exclusionists,  Fitzharris  added 
to  it  that  a  new  popish  plot,  more  terrible  than  any  former  one,  was  in 
agitation  under  the  auspices  of  the  duke  of  York,  whom  he  also  accused 
of  being  one  of  the  contrivers  of  the  murder  of  Sir  Kdmondbury  Godfrey, 
The  king  sent  Fitzharris  to  ,irison  ,  the  commons,  instead  of  looking  with 
contempt  upon  the  whole  affair,  voted  that  this  hired  libeller  and  led  c.ip- 
tain  of  a  court  harlot  should  be  impeached!    It  was  so  obviotis  that  the 
real  intention  of  the  commons  was  to  screen  Fitzharris  from  punishment 
ahogcther,  that  the  lords  very  properly  rejected  the  impeachment.    An 
angry  feeling  sprung  up  between  the  two  houses  :  and  the  king,  to  prevent 
the  dispute  from  proceeding  to  any  dangerous  length,  went  down  and  dis- 
solved parliament,  with  the  fixed  determination  of  never  calling  another. 
Charles  now,  in  fact,  ruled  with  all  the  power  and  with  not  a  little  of 
the  tyranny  of  an  absolute  monarch.     He  encouraged  spies  and  informers, 
and  imprisoned  those  who  ventured  to  complain  of  his  measures  in  a 
manner  not  only  contrary  to  his  former  temper,  but  almost  indicative,  as 
was  well  remarked  at  the  time,  of  reconciling  the  people  to  the  prospect 
of  his  brother's  accession  by  making  his  own  rule  too  grievous  to  be  en- 
dured.    To  those  who  held  high-church  principles,  and  professed  his  dor- 
trine  of  passive  obedience  and  non-resistance,  all  the  royal  favour  wa? 
shown ;  while  the  prcsby  terians  and  other  sturdy  oppo^ers  of  his  arbitrary 


TlIK  TllEASUJlY  OK  UI-ilOilY. 


(>I3 


■  of  the 
oyed  lo 
ipon  the 
ids  svif- 
\\a  aid  a 
ost  rail- 
ed.   Bui 
I  hanger- 

employ- 
id  design, 
a  j\i8lice 

■  the  libel 
ivMe  peril 
st,  turned 
;  of  truili, 
I  and  vio- 

would  be 
n  order  to 
.rris  added 

le,  was  in 

aci'used 
Godfrey. 

)kinir  wi^^i 
,id  led  cap- 
[us  that  the 
)unishment 

imenl.  A" 
to  prevent 
l^n  and  dis- 
fng  another. 
It  a  little  of 
informers, 

isures  in  ^ 
iidicative,  as 
he  prospect 
lus  to  be  en- 
.sed  his  doc- 
favour  wn? 
his  arbitratj 


nit>iit(ii^s  wro  in  niiin*>roiiii  ciiBon  doprivt-il  of  llicir  phcoa  and  oiiiploy 
niciitx,  ami  in  hoiik'  {•■.xtit-H  iiii|>ritoiwi|  in  tht>  li:tr^.iin.  The  city  ul  |,<)i)- 
ijiin,  NO  iMiwirfiil  and  ho  fai'lioiiM  (tnriii>;  llic  rrijrn  dT  ''liarlra  I  ,  was  imw 
ni.tiji'  I"  f<'''l  t'n-  kin){'ii  ri'Sfiiiniint,  litiii^,  for  Hk  li'adt.'rMliiii  of  ilic  (>o|itilar 
party,  lirprivcd  of  \in  ijliarler,  wlinli  wa.s  not  rc^iorcd  until  an  ahjeci  nnli- 
nii'"<i*»<  li'i'l  l>''i'n  niailc,  and  a  most  vexatiou!*  ri;;lil  loncedi-d  to  the  crown 
of  intcrrcriii^  in  thi!  cUMtioii  of  tlio  city  in  iL;iHtrai)'s.  FilzliarriH,  who  liad 
been  ito  warmly  sided  with  by  tlio  oxeliiMioniMi!),  and  who  had  been  tht! 
chief  ciiiise  of  ('harics'  an^rry  and  fin  d  disHfdntuMi  of  pariianient,  wan 
now  by  the  kin^j's  order  hrou;{ht  lo  trial  before  a  jury,  and,  Ix'iiik  pro- 
noiiiued  uniliy,  executed  I  An  abominable  Hlreleh  oi'  power;  for  however 
wortlilesH  ami  debauclieil  a  fellow  he  mij{lil  he,  Ins  crime,  venal  as  it  was, 
;iiiiouiiled  lo  hut  libelloiiH  wriliiiy;,  for  even  the  pulilicalion  whs  Hcareely 
so  nun'b  his  own  act  hh  it  was  ihi!  act  of  Ihe  olficers  who  arrested  him. 

The  popular  party  now  found  the  noisoiied  <lialice  euinniendi.'d  to  iheir 
own  lip«.  Hitherto,  while  it  Heeined  not  ini()robable  that  the  parliaineiit 
.111(1  tlie  "patriots"  would  ohlain  power  over  the  kinjr,  the  great  ami  de- 
irnidcd  host  of  spies  and  informen*  had  aimed  at  the  rum  of  "  pa|)isls"  and 
"jesiiils."  Hut  now  that  the  kiiijj  had  as  lioldly  as  arbitrarily  dis|iciised 
witli  even  the  shadow  of  parliamentary  aid,  and  ruled  as  indepeiilenlly 
and  almost  as  arbitrarily  as  an  eastern  prince,  the  spies  and  tiirormers 
tiinieil  upon  those  who  had  formerly  encourairtid  if  not  ariiially  emplnyed 
tlit'in,  and  "presl)yterian"  was  now  [iretly  nearly  as  daiiiferous  a  title  as 
"  papist"  had  been ;  "  protestanl  pri!aelier"  scarcely  more  safe  than 
"jesr  t"  had  boon  heretofore.  Charles  and  his  ministry  encoura<red  the 
informers,  and  the  system  of  perjury  lost  hoik;  of  its  infamy  and  vileness; 
It  merely  aime?l  at  a  difterent  class  of  victims. 

A  joiner  'i  London,  by  name  Stephen  Colle{re,  had  made  himself  espe 
rially  eonspicnons  during  the  heats  and  alarms  of  the  anti-popery  cries 
hoiid  of  tongue,  and  somewhat  weak  of  brain,  this  man,  with  nion;  zeal 
thiiii  knowledge,  had  taken  upon  himself  to  advocate  protestantism,  which 
needed  none  of  his  aid,  and  to  oppose  popery,  which  such  opposition  as 
his  coiilil  not  possibly  affect.  He  had  attended  the  city  members  to  Ox- 
ford armed  with  pistols  and  sword,  had  been  in  the  habit  of  railing  against 
Ihe  king,  the  duke  of  York  and  papacy,  and,  rather  in  derision  than  in  dis- 
liiu'tiou,  had  acquired  the  title  of  the  protestant  joiner.  This  weak  man, 
whose  flights  were  fitting  matter  for  the  ministering  of  the  physician, 
rather  than  for  the  interference  of  the  law,  was  selected  by  the  ministry 
as  a  fit  subject  of  whom  to  make  an  example.  He  was  indicted  and 
found  guilty  of  sedition,  and,  to  the  disgrace  of  both  king  and  ministers, 
executed. 

A.  D.  Ifi83, — The  increasing  power  and  severity  of  Charles  and  his  min- 
istry  struck  a  panic  throughout  the  nation.  The  manner  in  which  ine 
city  of  Ijondon  had  been  deprived  of  its  charter,  and  the  humiliating  terms 
upon  which  that  once  powerful  corporation  had  got  its  charter  restored, 
soon  caused  the  other  corporations  to  surrender  their  charters  voluntarily  ; 
and  not  on./  were  considerable  sums  extorted  for  their  restoration,  but 
the  king  took  care  to  reserve  in  his  own  hands  the  power  of  appointing  to 
all  olfices  of  trust  and  profit.  The  patronage  which  was  thus  diseredit- 
«bly  obtained  was  so  enormous,  that  the  power  of  the  crown  became 
overwhelmingly  vast,  and,  with  but  a  ftjw  exceptions,  men  agreed  that 
resistance,  even  if  justifiable,  would  now  be  useless  and  hopeless. 

But  there  was  a  party  of  malcontents,  weak  as  to  number,  but  vigorous, 
influential,  and  bold ;  and  absolute  as  Charles  was,  and  unassailable  as  to 
most  people  his  power  must  have  seemed,  his  life,  even,  was,  at  this  time, 
in  a  most  imminent  peril. 

The  soul  of  the  malcontents  was  the  ei'.rl  of  Shaftesbury.  That  highly- 
jifted  but  turbulent  and  plot-loving  person  had  engaged  with  the  duke  of 


tfl4 


THE  TIIEASURYOF  HISTORY 


Monmouth,  the  earl  of  MacclcMfield,  Lord  William  Russell,  and  several 
other  noblemen,  to  raise  nominally  in  favour  of  freedom,  but  really  to  de- 
throne Charles ;  exclude,  if  not  slay  James;  and  place  the  crown  upon 
the  head  of  the  duke  of  Monmouth,  the  king's  natural  son.  The  earl  o| 
Macclesfield,  Lord  Brandon  and  others,  were  to  effect  a  risinff  in  Chf  shire 
and  Lancashire;  Sir  Francis  Drake,  Sir  Francis  Rowles,  and  Sir  Willimn 
Courtney  were  induced  by  Lord  William  Russell  to  head  the  insurrection 
in  Devon,  and  generally  in  the  west ;  and  Shaftesbury,  aided  by  Ferguson, 
a  preacher  of  the  independents,  undertook  to  effect  a  general  rising  in  the 
city  of  London,  where  the  discontent  and  disloyalty,  owing  to  the  affujr 
of  the  charter,  were  at  the  greatest  height.  Shaftesbury  urged  on  the  plot 
with  all  his  ener^v,  and  it  is  most  probable  that  the  kingdom  would  have 
been  plunged  into  all  the  confusion  and  horror  of  a  civil  war  if  the  ex- 
treme eagerness  of  Shaftesbury  had  not  been  counteracted  by  the  extreme 
caution  of  Lord  Wilham  Russell,  who,  when  everything  was  nearly  ready 
for  an  outbreak,  urged  the  duke  of  Monmouth  to  postpone  the  enterprise 
until  a  more  favourable  opportunity.  The  usually  enterprising  and  tur- 
bulent Shaftesbury  now  became  so  prostrated  by  a  sense  of  the  danger  in 
which  he  was  placed  by  this  postponement,  that  he  abandoned  his  house 
and  endeavoured  to  induce  the  Londoners  to  rise  without  waiting  for  the 
tardy  co-operation  of  the  provinces  ;  but  all  his  endeavours  were  unavail- 
ing,  and  in  despair  he  fled  to  Holland,  \\here  he  soon  afterwards  died 
broken-hearted  and  in  poverty. 

The  conspirators,  being  thus  freed  from  the  turbulent  Shaftesbury, 
formed  a  committee  of  six ;  Hampden,  grandson  to  the  Hampden  who 
made  so  much  opposition  to  the  ship  money,  Algernon  Sidney,  Howard, 
Kssex,  and  Lord  William  Russel;  Monmouth  being  their  grand  leader  and 
centre  of  correspondence,  his  chief  adviser,  however,  being  the  duke  n( 
Argyle.  There  were  numerous  subordinates  in  this  conspiracy;  and  it  is 
affirmed,  by  the  friends  of  the  memory  of  Lord  William  Russell,  that  he 
and  the  leaders  did  not  encourage  and  were  not  even  perfectly  cognizant 
of  the  more  atrocious  part  of  the  plan  of  those  conspirators  who  had  agreed 
to  assassinate  the  king  on  his  way  to  Newmarket.  We  confess  that  it 
appears  to  us  to  be  making  a  larpje  demand  indeed  upon  our  credulity  to 
suppose  anything  of  the  kind,  but  we  have  not  space  to  go  into  the  argu- 
ments which  might  be  adduced  in  favour  of  the  supposition  that,  however 
willing  the  chief  conspirators  might  be  to  leave  the  horrible  crime  of 
assassination  to  subordinates,  they  were  at  least  quite  willing  that  such 
crime  should  be  perpetrated  to  the  profit  of  their  main  design. 

The  plan  of  the  conspirators  against  the  life  of  the  king  was  to  secrete 
themselves  on  a  farm  belonging  to  one  of  them,  the  Rye-house,  situated 
)n  the  road  to  Newmarket,  overturn  a  cart  there  to  obstruct  the  royal 
.arriage,  and  then  deliberately  fire  upon  the  king.  After  much  consuitn- 
ion  it  was  determined  to  carry  this  dastardly  plot  into  execution  on  the 
King's  return  to  Newmarket.  About  a  week  before  the  time  at  which  his 
majesty  was  to  do  so,  the  house  in  which  he  resided  at  Newmarket  took 
fire,  and  he  was  obliged  to  remove  to  London.  This  circumstance  would 
nerely  have  postponed  the  "  fate"  of  his  majesty,  but  in  the  course  of  the 
ime  that  was  thus  lost  to  the  conspirators,  one  of  their  number,  named 
felling,  found  himself  in  danger  of  prosecution  for  having  arrested  the 
ord-mayor  of  London,  and  to  save  himself  from  the  consequences  he 
waited  upon  the  king's  ministers  and  revealed  all  that  he  knew  of  the  nlot 
against  the  king,  and  Colonel  Rumsey  and  a  lawyer  named  West  joiiitl 
him  in  becoming  king's  evidence.  Monmouth  and  Grey  escaped,  Lord 
William  Russell  was  apprehended  and  sent  to  the  Tower,  as  shortly  after- 
wards were  Essex,  Sidney,  and  Hampden,  together  with  Lord  Howard, 
who  was  found  in  a  chimney.  That  ignoble  nobleman,  though  fully  a.s 
guilty  as  the  rest,  immediately  agreed  to  save  his  own  recreant  life  by  he- 


THE  TKliASURY  OK  mSTOllY. 


6IS 


coming  evidence  against  his  former  associates,  who  seeniod  more  indig- 
nant and  disgusted  at  that  treachery  than  affected  by  the  prril  in  which  it 
placed  them. 

(Colonel  Walcot,  an  old  republican  officer,  together  with  Stone  and 
Rouse,  were  first  put  upon  trial,  and  condemned  upon  the  evidence  of  their 
former  associates.  Colonel  Rumsey,  and  the  lawyer,  West. 

Lord  William  Russell  and  Algernon  Sidney  were  condemned  chif  fly  on 
tlie  evidence  of  Lord  Howard.  In  the  case  of  Sidney,  however,  the  evi- 
(It'iice  of  Howard  was  most  unconstitutionally  eked  out  by  construing  as 
treasonable  certain  writings,  merely  speculative,  though  of  republican 
tciuiency,  which  were  seized  at  his  house.  Both  Russell  and  Sidney 
were  condemned  and  executed.  Hampden  was  more  fortunate,  and  es- 
ciipcd  with  a  fine  of  forty  thousand  pounds.  Holloway,  a  merchant  of 
lirisiol,  who  had  been  engaged  in  this  dastardly  conspiracy,  escaped  to 
llu!  West  Indies  ;  and  Sir  Thomas  Armstrong,  who  was  similarly  situated. 
L'sc:iped  to  Holland.  But  so  eagerly  vindictive  had  Charles  and  his  min- 
istry by  this  time  been  rendered  by  the  numerous  plots,  real  and  pretender], 
iliat  both  of  those  persons  were  brought  over  to  England  and  executed. 
Lor  1  Kssex  would  also  probably  have  been  executed,  but,  being  impris- 
oned in  the  Tower,  he  there  committed  suicide  by  cutting  his  throat. 

Judging  from  the  severity  with  which  Charles  proceeded  on  this  occa- 
sion ;  is  but  reasonable  to  presume  he  would  either  have  carried  his  des- 
potism to  a  frightful  pitch,  or  have  fallen  a  victim  to  the  equally  unjustifi;i- 
lilc  violence  of  some  malcontent.  But  his  naturally  fine  constitution  was 
now  completely  broken  up  by  his  long  and  furious  course  of  dissipation, 
mid  u  fit  of  apoplexy  seized  him,  from  which  he  was  but  partially  recov- 
ered by  bleeding;  he  expired  in  the  fifty-fifth  year  of  his  age  and  the 
twenty-fifth  of  his  reign. 

Much  might  be  said  in  dispraise  of  Charles,  both  as  man  and  monarch : 
hut  impartial  justice  demands  that  we  should  make  a  great  allowance  for 

.e  unfavourable  circumstances  under  which  the  best  years  r^i  his  yo.itli 
;uid  manhood  were  spent.  Poverty  for  months,  so  extreme  that  he  and 
liis  followers  were  at  times  without  a  single  coin,  and  owed  tiieir  very 
food  to  the  kindness  of  their  hosts,  was  occasionally  followed  by  a 
(temporary  plenty;  and  his  companions  were,  for  the  most  part,  precisely 
tlie  persons  to  encourage  him  in  every  extravagance  to  which  so  v/reti-h- 
e  lly  precarious  a  life  was  calculated  to  induce  him.  Even  the  cruelly 
aiul  despotism  of  his  latter  years  visibly  had  their  chief  cause  in  the  politi- 
cal villainy  and  violence  of  considerable  bodies  of  his  people.  No  sucii 
exi'use  can  be  made  for  his  extravagant  liberality  to  his  numerous  niis- 
fesscs ;  and  for  the  wholly  cruel  and  mean  treatment  he  bestowed  upon 
his  wife  we  know  of  no  decorous  epithet  that  is  sufficiently  severe. 

That  Charles  was  not  naturally  of  a  cruel,  or  even  of  a  sufficiently  se- 
vere turn,  a  remarkable  proof  is  afforded  by  the  stoiy  of  a  ruffian  named 
Hlood ;  a  story  so  singular,  that  we  think  it  necessary  to  give  it  by  way 
of  appendix  to  this  reign.  Blood,  who  had  served  in  Ireland,  had,  or  fan- 
cied that  he  had,  considerable  claims  upon  the  government,  and  being  re- 
fused satisfaction  by  the  duke  of  Ormond,  he  actually  waylaid  and  seized 
tliat  nobleman  on  his  return  from  an  evening  party  in  London,  and  would 
JMve  hanged  him  but  for  the  occurrence  of  a  mere  accident  which  enabled 
the  duke  to  escape.  A  desperado  of  this  sort  could  not  fail  to  be  in  fre- 
quent trouble  and  distress ;  and  he  at  length  was  reduced  to  such  extreme 
straits,  that  with  some  of  his  associates  he  formed  a  plan  for  purloining 
Uie  regalia  from  the  jewel-house  in  the  Tower.  He  contrived  to  ingra- 
ii  lie  himself  with  the  old  couple  who  had  charge  of  the  valuable  jewels, 
ami  took  an  opportunity  to  bind  both  the  man  and  womai>  and  make  ofl 
with  all  the  most  valuable  articles.  Though  fired  at  by  the  sentry  hp  got 
Ileal  as  'iar  as  Tower-hill,  where  |je  jvas  apprehended  aftei  a  desperate 


t\6 


TUK  TIIKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


struggle.  So  enornidus  ;in  oiitnigo,  it  might  have  been  anticipatod,  would 
be  oxpialpd  (»nly  by  the  sovorcst  punishment ;  but  thu  king  not  only  for. 
gave  IJiood,  but  even  gave  him  :i  considerablo  animal  ponsion  to  enable 
him  to  livo  wittiout  farthiT  criminality.  A  rare  proof  of  iho  native  easi- 
ness of  the  king's  temper !  Though  it  must  be  added  that  the  duke  ol 
Buckingham,  who  detested  Ormond,  was  on  that  account  supposed  to 
have  used  his  vast  influence  in  favour  of  Blood. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

THE    RKlOy    OF   JAMES  II. 

A.  D.  1G85. — The  somewhat  ostentatious  manner  in  which  the  duke  of 
York  had  been  accustomed  to  go  *o  mass,  during  the  life  of  his  brother, 
had  been  one  great  cause  of  the  general  dislike  in  which  he  was  held. 
Even  Charles,  giddy  and  careless  as  he  in  general  was,  saw  the  impru- 
dence of  James'  conduct,  and  significantly  told  him  on  one  occasion  that 
he  had  no  desire  to  go  upon  his  travels  again,  wliatever  James  might  wish. 
On  ascending  the  throne,  the  very  first  act  of  James  was  one  of  an  hon- 
est but  most  imprudent  bigotry.  Incapable  of  reading  the  signs  of  the 
times,  or  fully  prepared  to  dare  the  worst  that  those  signs  could  portend, 
James  immediately  sent  his  agent,  Caryl,  to  Rome,  to  apologize  to  the 
pope  for  the  long  and  flagrant  heresy  of  England,  and  to  endeavor  to  pro- 
cure the  re-admission  of  the  English  people  into  the  communion  of  tiic 
catholic  church.  The  pope  was  either  less  blind  or  more  politic  than 
James,  and  returned  him  a  very  cool  answer,  implying  that  before  he 
ventured  upon  so  arduous  an  enterprise  as  that  of  changing  the  professed 
faith  of  nearly  his  entire  people,  he  would  do  well  to  sit  down  and  calcu- 
late the  cost.  Even  this  grave  and  sensible  rebuke  did  not  deter  James 
from  exerting  himself  l)oth  by  fear  and  favour  to  make  proselytes  of  his 
subjects.  Hated  as  he  already  was,  such  conduct  could  not  fail  to  en- 
courage coiispiraci(!S  against  him,  and,  accordingly,  he  had  not  been  long 
seated  upon  the  throne,  when  he  found  a  dangerous  rival  in  the  duke  of 
Monmouth.  This  illegitimate  son  of  Charles  II.  had  obtained,  from  the 
easy  nalm-e  of  his  father,  a  pardon  for  his  share  in  the  Rye-house  plot, 
which  was  fatal  to  so  many  better  men  ;  but  had  received  his  pardon  only 
on  condition  of  perpetual  residence  abroad.  He  remained  in  Holland  du- 
ring the  whole  remainder  of  his  father's  reign,  but  on  the  accession  of 
James  was  dismissed  by  the  prince  of  Orange.  This  dismissal  was  said 
lobe  it'  the  direct  solicitation  of  James,  who  bore  a  great  hatred  to  Mon- 
mouth if  so,  the  act  was  as  impolitic  as  it  was  mean.  The  duke  now 
found  refuge  for  a  short  lime  at  Brussels,  but  here  again  the  influence  of 
James  was  brought  to  bear  upon  him  ;  and  Moimiouth  now,  thoroughly 
exasperated,  and  relying  upon  the  detestation  in  which  James  was  held, 
resolved  to  make  an  attempt  to  oust  hisn  from  the  English  throne.  At 
this  distance  of  lime  s  ich  a  project  on  the  part  of  Monmouth  seems  per- 
fectly insane;  but  it  wai  seem  far  less  so  if  we  make  due  allowance  for 
the  widely-spread  and  intense  hatred  which  the  people  bore  to  James,  and 
for  the  great  popularity  of  Monmouth,  whom  many  people  believed  to  be 
the  legitimate  son  of  Charles,  it  being  commonly  affirmed  that  Charles 
had  privately  married  Lucy  Waters,  the  duke's  mother. 

The  dukeof  Argyle,  who,  as  well  as  Monmouth,  had  escaped  the  con- 
sequences of  the  Rye-house  plot,  now  agreed  to  aid  him ;  it  was  intended 
that  Argyle  should  raise  Scotland,  while  Monmouth  was  to  take  the  lead 
ill  the  west  of  England,  where  he  was  peculiarly  popular. 

Argyle  promptly  commenced  his  part  of  the  afl^air  by  landing  in  Scot- 
land, where  he  soon  found  himself  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  two  thou 


THB  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


617 


Band  five  liiindred  men.  He  issuod  manifestos  containing iho  usuil  mix- 
ture of  truth  and  falsehood,  but  l)ef()ru  his  oloiiniMiee  could  procure  hiiu 
any  considerable  accession  of  force  he  was  atiai-ked  by  a  powerful  body 
of  ill'' "iiuy's  troops.  Argyle  himself  fought  sxallantly,  and  was  severely 
woun  !  1  ;  but  his  troops  so  m  gave  way  in  every  direi-tion,  and  the  duke 
was  shortly  afterwards  seized,  whde  standuig  up  to  his  neck  in  a  pool  ol 
water,  and  carried  to  Kdinburgh.  Here  the  authorities  and  populace,  with 
the  small  spite  of  mean  spirits,  avengeil  themselves,  by  the  mllit'tion  of 
every  d'^scription  of  iniiignity,  for  the  fright  their  brave  though  turbident 
and  ir.iprudenl  prisoner  liad  caused  them.  On  his  way  to  the  place  of  ex- 
ecution he  was  jeered  and  insulted  by  the  rabble ;  and  the  magistrates 
suspended  to  his  neck  a  hook  containing  an  account  of  his  former  exploits. 
These  insults,  however,  nothing  afTectcd  the  high  spirit  of  Argyle,  who 
contented  himself  with  sarcasti(!ally  t(dlinghis  persecutors  that  Ik;  deemed 
it  well  that  they  had  nothing  worse  to  alledgc  against  his  character.  Ho 
suffered  with  the  same  composure. 

Monmouth,  in  the  meantime,  with  scarcely  more  than  a  hundred  fol- 
lowers, landed  on  the  coast  of  Dorsetshire  ;  and  wo  may  judge  of  the  great- 
ness of  his  popularity  from  the  fact,  that  though  he  landed  with  so  slender 
a  retinue,  he  assembled  upwards  of  two  thousand  men  in  four  days.  As 
he  proceeded  to  Taunton  he  increased  his  force  to  six  thousand,  and  could 
have  had  double  that  number,  only  that  he  was  obliged  after  the  first  few 
days  to  lefuse  all  but  such  as  could  bring  their  own  arms  with  them. 

At  Bridgewater,  Wells,  and  Frome  he  was  joined  by  great  numbers  0/ 
young  men,  the  sons,  chiefly,  of  the  better  sort  of  farmers ;  and  su(di  was 
the  enthusiasm  that  was  now  excited  on  his  behalf,  that  James  begun,  and 
with  good  reason,  to  tremble  for  his  throne.  But  Monmouth  was  essen- 
tially unequal  to  the  vast  enterprise  that  he  had  undertaken.  Though  he 
had  much  of  his  father's  personal  courage,  he  had  still  more  of  his  father's 
levity  and  love  of  show  !ind  gayety.  At  every  town  in  which  he  arrived 
he  spent  precious  time  in  the  idle  ceremony  of  being  proclaimed  king,  and 
thus  frittered  away  the  enthusiasm  and  hopes  of  his  own  followers,  while 
irivingtime  to  James  to  concentrate  force  enough  to  crush  him  at  a  blow 
Nor  did  the  error  of  Monmouth  end  here.  Lord  Giay  was  the  especial 
favourite  of  the  duke,  and  was  therefore  deemetl  the  fittest  man  to  be  en- 
trusted with  the  command  of  the  insurgent  cavalry;  though  it  was  well 
known  that  he  was  deficient  in  judgment,  and  strongly  s'l  fccted  that  he 
was  not  overburdened  with  either  courage  or  ze;d.  FK  '  ■  ir  of  Saltoun, 
a  brave  and  direct,  though  passionaie  and  free-spoken  man,  strongly  re- 
monstrated svith  the  duke  upon  this  glaringly  impolitic  appointment,  and 
finding  his  remonstrances  productive  of  no  efTect,  retired  from  the  expedi 
tion  in  disgust.  Even  the  loss  of  this  zealous  though  s'ern  friend  did  not, 
move  the  duke,  who  continued  his  confidence  to  Gray — to  repent  when 
repentance  could  be  of  no  avail. 

While  Monmouth  had  been  wasting  very  pret  lous  time  in  these  idle 
mockeries  of  royal  pomp,  James  and  his  friends  had  been  far  otherwise 
and  more  usefully  employed.  Six  British  regiments  were  recaih.'d  from 
Holland,  and  three  thousand  regulars  with  a  vast,  ninnljer  of  n)ililia  were 
sent,  under  Feversham  and  Churcliill,  to  attack  the  rebels.  The  royal 
force  took  up  its  position  at  Sedgemoor,  near  Bridgewater.  They  were, 
or  seemed  to  be,  so  carelessly  posted,  that  Monmouth  determined  to  give 
them  the  attack.  The  first  onset  of  the  rebels  was  so  enthusiastic  that 
the  royal  infantry  gave  way.  Monmouth  was  rather  strong  in  cavalry, 
and  a  single  good  charge  of  that  force  would  now  have  decided  the  day  in 
Ills  favour.  But  Gray  fully  confirmed  all  the  suspicions  of  his  cowardice, 
and,  while  all  were  loudly  calling  up-^n  him  to  charge,  he  actually  turned 
Ais  horse's  head  and  fled  from  the  field,  followed  by  the  greater  number  of 
Ids  men.    Whatever  were  thj  previous  errors  of  the  royal  commanders. 


618 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY 


Ihfiy  now  amply  atoned  for  tliem  by  ilin  prompt  and  able  manner  in  which 
they  availed  themselves  of  Monmoutli's  want  of  generalship  and  Gray't 
want  of  manhood.  The  rebels  were  eharged  in  flank  again  and  again,  aud 
being  utterly  unaided  by  their  cavalry,  were  thrown  into  complete  and 
irretrievable  disorder,  after  a  desperate  fight  of  above  three  hours.  It  ia 
due  to  the  rebel  troops  to  add,  that  the  courage  which  they  displayed  was 
worthy  of  a  better  cause  and  better  leaders.  Rank  after  rank  fell  and 
died  on  the  very  spot  on  which  they  had  fought;  but,  commanded  as  they 
were,  valour  was  thrown  away  and  devotion  merely  another  term  for  de- 
struction 

But  the  real  horrors  of  this  insurrection  only  began  when  the  battle  wag 
ended.  Hundreds  were  slain  in  the  pursuit ;  quarter,  by  the  stern  order 
of  James,  being  invariably  refused.  A  special  commission  was  also  issued 
for  the  trial  of  all  who  were  taken  prisoners,  and  Judge  Jeffreys  and  Colo 
nel  Kirk,  the  latter  a  soldier  of  fortune  who  had  served  much  among  the 
Moors  and  become  thoroughly  brulalised,  carried  that  commission  into 
effect  in  a  manner  which  has  rendered  their  names  eternally  detestable. 

The  terror  which  these  brutally  severe  men  inspired  so  quickened  the 
zeal  of  the  authorities,  and  afforded  so  much  encouragement  to  informers, 
whether  actuated  by  hate  or  hire,  that  the  prisons  all  over  England,  but 
especially  in  the  western  counties,  were  speeddy  filled  with  unfortunate 
people  of  both  sexes  and  of  all  ages.  In  some  towns  the  prisoners  were 
so  numerous,  that  even  the  ferocity  of  Jeffreys  was  wearied  of  try- 
ing in  detail.  Intimation  was  therefore  given  to  great  numbers  of  prison- 
ers,  that  their  only  chance  of  mercy  rested  upon  their  pleading  guilty; 
but  all  the  unfortunate  wretches  who  were  thus  beguiled  into  that  plea 
were  instantly  and  en  masse  sentenced  to  death  by  Jeffreys,  who  took  care, 
too,  that  the  sentence  should  speedily  be  executed. 

The  fate  of  one  venerable  lady  excited  great  remark  and  commisera- 
tion even  in  that  terrible  time  of  general  dismay  and  widely-spread  suf- 
fering. The  lady  in  question,  Mrs.  Gaunt,  a  person  of  some  foriui\e, 
known  loyalty,  and  excellent  character,  was  induced  by  sheer  huniiiniiy 
to  give  shelter  to  one  of  the  fugitives  from  Sedgemoor.  It  being  under- 
stood that  the  sheltered  would  be  pardoned  on  condition  of  giving  evidence 
against  those  who  had  dared  to  shelter  tliem,  this  base  and  ungrateful  man 
informed  against  his  benefactress,  who  was  inhumanly  sentenced  to  death 
by  Jeffreys,  and  actually  executed.  Kirk,  too,  was  guilty  of  the  most 
enormous  and  filthy  cruelties,  and  it  seemed  doubtful  whether  Jeffreys 
and  his  stern  master  intended  only  to  intimidate  the  people  of  England 
into  submission,  or  actually  and  fully  to  exterminate  them. 

Monmouth,  whose  rash  enterprise  and  unjustified  ambition  had  caused 
so  much  confusion  and  bloodshed,  rode  from  the  fatal  field  of  Sedgemoor 
at  so  rapid  a  pace,  that  at  about  twenty  miles  distance  his  horse  fell  dead 
beneath  him.  The  duke  had  now  of  all  his  numerous  followers  but  one 
left  with  him,  a  German  nobleman.  Monmouth  being  in  a  desolate  part 
of  the  country,  and  at  so  considerable  a  distance  from  the  scene  of  battle 
and  bloodshed,  entertained  some  hope  that  he  might  escape  by  means  of 
disguise,  and  meeting  with  a  poor  shepherd,  he  gave  the  man  some  gold 
to  exchange  clothes  with  him.  He  and  his  German  friend  now  filled  their 
pockets  with  field  peas,  and,  provided  only  with  this  wretched  food,  pro- 
ceeded, towards  nightfall,  to  conceal  themselves  among  the  tall  fern  which 
grew  rankly  and  abundantly  on  the  surrounding  moors.  But  the  pursuers 
and  avengers  of  blood  were  not  so  far  distant  as  the  misguided  duke  sup- 
posed. A  party  of  horse,  having  followed  closely  in  his  track,  came  up 
with  the  peasant  with  whom  he  had  exchanged  clothes,  and  from  this 
man's  information  the  duke  was  speedily  discovered  and  dragged  from  his 
hidiug  place.  His  miserable  plight  and  the  horrors  of  the  fate  that  he  but 
(00  correctly  anticipated,  had  now  so  completely  unmanned  him,  that  he 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTOHY. 


619 


burst  into  an  agony  of  tears,  and  in  the  most  humble  tniinnor  iniplorcil  hia 
captors  to  allow  him  to  escape.  But  the  reward  offered  for  his  appn-hen- 
8IUU  was  too  tempting,  and  the  dread  of  the  king's  anger  too  great,  to  be 
overciuie  by  the  unhappy  captive's  solicitations,  and  he  was  hurried  to 
orison.  Even  now  his  dinging  to  life  prevailed  over  the  manifest  dictates 
ofcdiinnoii  sense,  and  from  his  prison  he  sent  letter  after  letter  to  the 
king,  tilled  with  the  most  abject  entreaties  to  be  allowed  to  live.  The 
natural  character  of  James  and  the  stern  severity  with  which  he  had  pun. 
ished  the  reijellion  of  the  meaner  offenders,  might  have  warned  Monmouth 
(hat  these  degrading  submissions  would  avail  him  iiothiiii{.  But,  m  fact, 
ins  own  absurdly  offensive  manner  duriiijf  his  brief  period  of  i.iiticipative 
triumph  would  have  steeled  the  heart  of  a  far  more  |>la(:abl'  sovereign 
than  James.  Monmouth's  proclamations  had  not  slopped  at  calling  upon 
tlie  people  of  England  to  rebel  against  their  undoubtedly  rightful  SDve'rcign  ; 
tliey  had  in  a  maimer,  which  woiiM  have  been  revolting  if  the  vi  ry  excess 
of  its  virulence  had  not  rendered  it  absurd,  vilified  the  personal  character 
of  James  ;  and  while  thus  offending  him  as  a  man,  had  at  the  same  time 
offered  him  the  still  more  unpardonable  offence  of  attacking  his  religion. 
James  had  none  of  the  magnanimity  which  in  these  circumstances  of  per- 
sonal  affront  would  have  found  an  argument  for  pardoning  the  treason,  in 
order  to  avoid  even  the  appearance  of  punishing  the  personaliiv ;  and 
from  the  moment  that  Monmouth  was  captured,  his  fate  was  irrevocably 
sealed. 

Bad  as  Monmouth's  conduct  had  been,  it  is  not  without  contempt  that 
we  read  that  James,  though  determined  not  to  spare  him,  allowed  him  to 
hope  for  mercy,  and  even  granted  him  an  interview.  Admitted  to  the 
presence  of  the  king,  Monmouth  was  weak  enough  to  renew  in  person  the 
abject  "ubmissions  and  solicitations  by  which  he  had  already  degraded 
himself  in  writing.  As  he  knelt  and  implored  his  life,  James  sternly 
handed  him  a  paper.  It  contained  an  admission  of  his  illegitimacy,  and 
of  the  utter  falsehood  of  the  report  that  Lucy  Waters  had  ever  been  mar- 
ried to  Charles  II.  Monmouth  signed  the  paper,  and  James  thea  coldly 
told  him  that  his  repeated  treasons  rendered  pardon  altogether  out  of  the 
question.  The  duke  now  at  length  perceived  tli^it  hope  was  at  an  end, 
rose  from  his  suppliant  posture,  and  left  the  apartment  with  an  assumed 
firmness  in  his  step  and  scorn  in  nis  countenance- 
When  led  to  the  scaffold  Monmouth  behaved  with  a  degree  of  fortitude 
that  co'ild  scarcely  have  been  anticipated  from  his  previous  abjectiiess. 
Having  learned  that  the  executioner  was  the  same  who  had  beheaded 
Lord  William  Russell,  and  who  had  put  that  nobleman  to  much  agony,  the 
duke  gave  the  man  some  money,  and  good-hnmouiedly  wnrned  him  to  be 
more  expert  in  his  business  on  the  present  occasion.  Tht  warning  had 
an  effect  exactly  opposite  to  what  Monmouth  intended.  The  man  was 
so  confused,  that  at  the  first  blow  he  only  wounded  that  sufferer's  neck; 
and  Monmouth,  bleeding  and  ghastly  with  pain  and  terro"-,  raised  his  head 
from  the  block.  His  look  of  agony  still  farther  unnerved  the  man,  who 
made  two  more  ineffectual  strokes,  then  threw  down  the  oxc  in  despair 
and  disgust.  The  reproaches  and  threats  of  the  slieriff,  however,  caused 
him  *o  resume  his  revolting  task,  which  at  two  strokes  more  he  completed, 
and  .  les,  duke  of  Monmouth,  was?  a  lifeless  corpse.  Monmouth  wa« 
popular,  and  therefore  !iis  fate  was  deemed  hard.  But  his  treason  wan 
wholly  unjustifiable,  his  pretended  claim  to  the  crown  as  absurdly  ground- 
less as  the  claim  of  the  son  of  a  known  hadot  could  be ;  and  pity  is  far 
less  due  to  his  memory  than  to  that  of  the  unfortunate  people  whom  he 
deluded  into  treason  by  his  rasluiess,  and  delivered  t-j  the  gallows  by  his 
incapacity  and  obstinacy.  Saying  nothing  of  tlie  vast  numbers  who  fell 
in  actual  fight  or  in  the  subsequent  pursuit,  for  tlieii  fate  wai-  at  the  least 
pomparatively  enviable,  upwards  of  twenty  were  barged  by  the  miliary: 


r<in 


THE  TllEASUllY  01''  HISTORY 


sf  ■■  ■ 


aiiil  J(  (Treys  Jinngod  eighty  at  Dorch'std-,  iiii'i  two  liiiiulred  and  fifty  i| 
Taiiiiloii,  Wells,  and  Kxclcr.  At  oilier  places  still  farther  victims  wore 
made ;  and  \vhi|)|)iiig,  im|)risoiimeiit,  or  ruinous  fines  were  inflicted  upon 
hundreds  in  every  part  of  the  kiiiydom.  And  all  this  misery,  let  us  not 
forget,  arose  out  of  the  rebcdlion,  and  the  fraudulent  as  well  as  absurd  pre- 
tensions  of  the  duke  of  Monmouth. 

As  thoufflt  the  civil  dissensions  of  the  kingdom  had  not  been  suflicientlj 
injurious,  tiie  most  furious  animosities  existed  on  the  score  of  religion. 
The  ino'c  James  displayed  his  bigotry  and  his  zeal  fo/  the  re-establisliinent 
or,  at  the  least,  the  great  encouragement  and  pr<,ference  of  popery,  the 
more  zealously  was  he  opposed  by  the  popular  pi! i(dicrs,  who  lost  no  op 
portunity  of  impressing  upon  the  people  a  deep  sense  of  the  evils  which 
they  might  anticipate  from  a  return  to  the  papal  system.  The  terrors  and 
the  blandishments  which  the  king  by  turns  employed  caused  maity  per- 
sons of  lax  conscience  to  uffect  to  be  converted  to  papacy.  Dr.  Sharpe, 
a  protestaiu  clergyman  of  London,  distinguished  himself  by  the  just  sever- 
ity with  which  he  denounced  these  time-servers.  His  majesty  was  so 
much  annoyed  and  enraged  at  the  doctor's  sermons  that  he  issued  an  order 
to  the  bishop  of  London  to  suspend  Sharpe  f(oni  his  clerical  functions 
until  farther  notice.  The  bishop  very  propcily  refused  to  comply  with 
this  arbitrary  and  unconstitutional  order.  The  king  then  determined  to 
include  the  bishop  in  his  punishment,  and  issued  an  ecclesiastical  commig- 
sion,  giving  to  the  seven  persons  to  whom  it  was  direcl:  .'  an  unlimited 
power  in  matters  clerical.  Before  the  commissionors  tims  authorised, 
both  the  bishop  and  Dr.  Sharpe  were  summoned,  and  .Skintcnced  to  be  sus- 
pended during  the  king's  pleasure. 

Though  a  bigot,  James  was  undoubtedly  a  sincere  one.  He  readily  be- 
lieved that  all  argument  WvOuld  end  in  favour  of  popery,  and  that  all  sin- 
cere and  teachable  spirits  would  become  papist  if  full  latitude  were  given 
to  teaching. 

In  this  belief  he  now  determined  on  a  universal  indulgence  of  con- 
science, and  a  formal  declaration  informed  the  people  that  all  sectaries 
should  have  full  indulgciice,  and  that  nonconformity  was  no  longer  a 
crime.  He  again,  too,  sent  a  message  to  Home  oflering  to  reconcile  his 
people  to  the  papal  power.  But  the  earl  of  Castlemain,  who  was  now 
employed,  met  with  no  more  success  than  Caryll  had  met  with  at  an  ear- 
lier period  of  the  king's  reign.  The  pope  understood  governing  better 
than  James,  and  better  understood  the  actual  temper  of  the  English  pco 
pie.  He  knew  tliat  much  miglit,  with  the  aid  of  time,  be  done  in  the  wa> 
of  underminif.g  tlie  supports  of  the  protestaut  church  ;  while  the  rash  and 
arbitrary  measures  of  .lames  were  calculated  only  to  awaken  the  people  to 
watchfulness  and  inspire  thein  with  a  spirit  of  resistance. 

Not  even  Rome  could  discourage  James  from  prosecuting  hi?  rash 
measures.  He  encouraged  the  Jesuits  '.o  erect  colleges  in  various  parts 
of  the  country  ;  the  catholic  worship  was  celebrated  not  only  openly  but 
o?lenlatious!y ;  and  four  catholic  bishops,  after  having  publicly  been  con- 
secrated in  the  king'c  chapel,  were  sent  to  exercise  their  functions  of 
vicars  apostolical  throughnit  the  kingdom. 

But  the  Uing  was  not  unjpposed.  I'^e  reconiiiiendcd  Father  Francis,  a 
Benedictine  monk,  to  the  university  of  Cambridge,  for  the  degree  of  nias 
terofarts.  The  university  replied  by  a  petition,  in  which  they  prayed 
the  king  to  excuse  them  upon  the  ground  of  the  father's  religion.  '\n 
endeavour  was  then  made  to  ierrify  the  university  by  summoning  the 
vice-chancellor  before  the  high  commission  court ;  but  both  that  func- 
tionary and  his  university  were  firm,  and  Father  Francis  was  refused  lii» 
degrees. 

The  sister  university  of  Oxford  displayed  the  like  conscientious  and  de- 
trmined  spirit     The  presidency  of  Magdalen  college  becoming  vacait 


THE  TRKABfJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


631 


ihc  kinsf  rcrommpiidod  for  th;it  liicrativp  »ii(l  lioiiDiiraMo  siiintioii  .i  Dr. 
Farmer,  who  was  a  now  and  iiicrcly  time  scrviiitf  roiivcrl  lo  j)ai>acy,  ami 
who,  ill  other  refjpeets,  was  by  no  means  tlic  sort  <if  charaeti  r  who  woiiM 
(io  honour  to  so  h\<ih  a  preferment.  Tlie  fellows  respectfully  hut  firmly 
refused  lo  obey  the  kmjf's  maiidatt!  for  the  «dectioii  of  this  man,  and  James 
Bhowed  his  sense  of  Iho  refusal  by  ejecting  all  but  two  of  them  from  Iheit 
fellowships. 

A.  n.  lGr!8. — An  increasing  disafTection  to  the  king  was  tho  iiievitalde 
consequence  of  his  perseverance  in  this  arl)itrary  course,  many  instances 
of  whicli  we  miglil  cite.  But  heedless  alike  of  (he  murmurs  o(  his  own 
subjects  and  of  tl-'  proliablo  eflect  of  ihosi;  murmurs  upon  tho  minds  ol 
foreign  priiUJOa,  James  issued  a  secoml  declaration  of  lil)erty  of  conscience. 
.\8  if  to  add  insuU  to  this  evident  blow  at  the  istal)iislied  (  hundi,  .lames 
ordered  tliat  this  sv'cond  declaration  shoidd  be  read  by  all  clergymen  at 
tho  conclusion  of  divine;  service.  The  difjnitaries  of  the  church  of  l''ng- 
land  now  considered  iliat  farther  endurances  would  argue  rather  hike- 
warmness  for  the  church  or  gross  personal  tiniidity,  than  mere  and  due 
respect  to  the  sovereign,  and  they  determined  firmly,  though  temperately, 
to  resist  at  this  point. 

Accordingly,  vSaneroft,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  Lloyd,  bishop  of  St. 
Asaph,  Kcnn'.  bisliop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  Turner,  bishop  of  Kly,  Lake, 
bishop  of  Chichester,  White,  bishop  of  Peterborough,  and  Tielawnoy, 
bishop  of  Bristol,  drew  up  a  respectful  memorial  to  the  king,  in  which 
ihey  stated  that  their  conscientious  respect  to  tlie  proleslanl  religion  as 
by  law  established  would  not  allow  them  and  tlieir  clergy  to  yield  obedi- 
ence to  his  mandate.  Tho  king  treated  this  petition  as  something  ap- 
proaching to  a  treasonable  denial  of  his  rigiits.  Tlie  archbishops  and 
bishops  were  summoned  before  him  at  the  council,  and  he  sternly  asked 
them  if  they  ventured  to  avow  :heir  petition.  Tho  question  remained  fot 
some  time  unanswered  ;  but  a;  longtii  the  prelates  replied  in  the  adlrina- 
tive,  and  were  immediately.  Oh  their  declining  to  give  bail,  coinmittod  to 
the  Tower  on  tho  charge  of  having  uttered  a  seditions  libel. 

On  the  twenty-ninth  of  June  in  tiiis  year  the  trial  of  the  bishops  took 
place,;  and  as  it  was  evident  that  in  dcfoiiding  tho  chnrcli  the  prelates 
were  also,  and  at  a  most  ii  ,.ortant  crisis,  boldly  stiiiiding  forward  as  the 
champions  of  the  whol  nation,  the  proceedings  wore  watclied  willi  a 
most  intense  interest  by  men  of  every  rank,  and,  save  a  few  bigoted  or 
intr.  rUed  papists,  by  men  of  every  shade  of  religious  opinion.  The  law- 
yen  on  either  side  exeiled  themselves  greatly  and  ably;  anl  two  of  the 
jufiges,  Powcl  and  Holloway,  plainly  declared  tlieir  opinion  lo  bo  in  favour 
of  the  bishops.  Tho  jury,  however,  even  now  had  grave-  doubts,  and  re- 
mained in  deliberation  during  tho  entire  night.  On  the  following  morning 
Westminster-hall  was  literally  crowded  witli  spectators  anxious  to  know 
tho  result,  and  when  the  jury  appeared  and  returned  a  verdict  of  "  Not 
guilty."  a  mighty  cheer  arose  witiiin  tho  hall,  was  taken  up  by  tho  crowds 
outside,  and  passed  from  street  to  street,  from  town  to  country,  and  from 
village  to  village.  James  was  at  the  time  dining  with  Lord  Favershain 
in  the  camp  at  Hounslow,  ten  miles  from  London.  Tlie  cheers  of  the 
people  reached  even  to  this  distance,  and  were  re-echoed  by  the  soldiers 
with  a  heartiness  and  loudness  that  actually  alarmed  James,  who  eagerly 
inquired  what  that  noise  could  mean. 

"It  is  nothing,  sirr,"  replied  one  of  the  attendants,  "but  the  soldiers 
shouting  at  the  acquittal  of  the  bishops." 

"  And  do  you  call  that  nothing !"  replied  James  :  "  but  it  shall  be  all  the 
worse  for  them  all." 

The  shouts  of  the  soldiers  at  the  failure  of  James'  arbitrary  attempt 
i\Tainst  the  bishops  was,  indeed,  an  ominous  sign  of  tlio  times.  Mis 
•mu'ts  for  Uome  had  b«cn  repudiated  and  discouraged  by  Rome  ;  and  now 


602 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


even  his  vrry  scUliery,  upon  whom  alonf  he  roiilrl  rely  for  strensfth,  tcs- 
tified  'heir  nympathy  with  the  popular  cans*;.  Hut  the  infatuated  monarch 
did  not  oven  yet  know  the  full  extent  of  his  peril.  Many  of  the  leadiiii; 
men  of  the  knif^dom  were  in  close  though  eautious  correspondence  with  a 
foreig  potentate,  and  the  most  extensive  and  formidable  preparations 
were  beinj  made  to  hurl  James  from  a  throne  which  he  had  so  signally 
proved  himself  unworthy  to  fill. 

Mary,  eldest  daughter  of  James,  was  married  to  William,  prince  of  Or. 
ange,  who  was  at  once  the  subtle  and  profound  politician  and  the  accom- 
plished and  tried  soldier.  To  this  able  and  protestant  prince  the  malcon- 
tents of  Kngland,  who  now  through  James'  incurable  infatuation  included 
all  that  was  best  and  most  honourable  as  well  as  most  influential  of  the 
nation,  turned  their  eyes  for  deliverance.  He  had  long  been  aware  of  the 
disccmtonis  that  existed  u;  Kngland,  but  kept  up  an  appearance  of  perfect 
amity  with  the  king,  and  even  in  his  correspondence  with  the  leading  men 
of  the  opposition  warily  avoided  committing  himself  too  far,  and  affected 
to  dissuade  them  from  proceeding  to  extremities  against  their  sovereign. 
But  the  ferment  occasioned  by  the  affair  of  the  bishops  encouraged  him 
to  throw  off  the  mask  ;  he  had  long  been  making  preparations  for  such  a 
crisis,  and  he  now  resolved  to  act.  He  had  his  preparations  so  complete, 
indeed,  that  in  a  short  time  after  the  acquittal  of  the  bishops,  he  dropped 
down  the  canals  and  rivers  from  Nimeugen  with  r»  well  stored  fleet  of 
five  hundred  vessels  and  an  army  of  upwards  of  fourteen  thousand  men. 
As  all  William's  preparations  had  been  made  on  pretext  of  an  intended 
invasion  of  France,  he  actually  landed  in  England,  at  Torbay,  without  hav- 
ing  excited  the  slightest  alarm  in  tht  mind  of  James. 

William  now  marched  his  army  to  Exeter  and  i><sued  proclamations,  in 
which  he  invited  the  people  to  aid  him  in  delivering  them  from  the  ty- 
ranny under  which  they  groaned ;  but  such  a  deep  and  general  terror  had 
been  struck  into  that  neighbourhood  by  the  awful  scenes  that  had  foiiowcd 
the  affair  of  Monmouth,  that  even  the  numerous  and  well-appointed  force 
of  William  encouraged  hut  few  volunteers  to  join  him.  Ten  days  eliipi»ed, 
and  William,  contrasting  the  apathy  of  the  people  with  the  enthusiastic 
invitations  he  had  received  from  many  of  the  leading  men  of  the  country, 
began  to  despair,  and  even  to  consult  wiUi  his  officers  on  the  propriety  of 
re-emharking,  and  leaving  so  faithless  a  gentry  and  so  apathetic  a  populace 
to  endure  the  miseries  which  they  dared  not  rise  against.  But  at  this 
critical  moment  he  was  joined  by  some  men  of  great  influence  and  note; 
his  arrival  and  his  force  became  generally  known,  and  multitudes  of  all 
ranks  now  declared  in  his  favour. 

The  movement  once  commenced,  the  revolution  was  virtually  accom- 
plished. Even  the  most  favoured  and  confidential  servants  of  James  now 
abandoned  him  ;  and  whatever  might  have  been  the  faults  of  the  unfortu- 
nate king,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  deep  disgust  at  the  unnatunl  and 
ungrateful  conduct  of  some  of  those  who  now  coldly  abandoned  him  in 
the  moment  of  his  deepest  perplexity  and  need.  Lord  Churchill,  for  in- 
stance, afterwards  duke  of  Marlborough,  and  undoubtedly  one  of  the  great- 
est generals  England  has  ever  possessed,  acted  upon  this  occasion  with 
a  most  scandalous  ingratitude.  Originally  only  a  page  in  the  royal  house- 
hold, he  had  by  the  king's  favour  been  raised  to  high  command  am'  luc-a- 
live  honours.  But  now  when  his  talents  and  his  sword  were  most  needed 
by  the  king,  he  not  only  deserted  him,  but  also  influenced  several  other 
leading  (diaracters  to  desert  with  him,  including  the  duke  of  Grafton,  an 
illegitimate  son  of  Charles  II. 

But  the  most  shameful  desertion,  and  that  vhich  the  most  deeply  pained 
and  disgusted  the  unfortunate  king,  was  that  of  the  princess  Anne,  who 
had  ever  been  his  most  favoured  and,  seemingly,  his  most  attached 
daughter     But  this  illustrious  lady,  and  her  husband,  the  j-rince  of  Den- 


TUB  TltlCASURY  OP  HISTOIiY. 


MS 


mark,  ni>w  joiiiP'l  iho  rest  in  dosertinw  ilio  kinij,  who  in  Jiis  too  tardy 
§f ii(<<' oi"  hiH  h»'l()|('«8  situation  passioiia'ply  rxcliiiiiKv!,  "(}(»1  help  mi'! 
Kvcii  my  own  children  desert  me  now.' 

lltiiible  to  rely  upon  his  troops,  seeing  only  enraged  enemies  amonp  all 
ranks  of  his  subjects,  and  so  deserted  by  his  rourt  tfiit  he  had  scarcely 
llu!  necessary  personal  :  .endanee,  he  sent  the  (jueen,  who  had  recently 
been  confined  of  a  son,  f  ^r  to  Calais  ;  and  tlien,  witli  only  one  attendant. 
Sir  Kdward  Hales,  a  new  culvert  to  popery,  whose  fidelity  to  his  uidiappy 
master  cannot  be  too  highl  •  ;,;)lauded,  he  secref'"  left  London,  intenmng 
to  follow  the  een  to  France.  He  was  recognised  and  stopped  by  the 
mob,  but  being  confined  at  Rochester,  he  was  so  carelessly  guarded,  that 
he  was  able — probably  from  secret  orders  given  by  William,  whom  his 
liefeiilion  would  have  embarrasst-d — to  escape  with  his  natural  son,  the 
duke  of  Berwick,  and  they  arrived  safely  in  France.  He  was  well  re- 
ceived by  the  French  court,  and  encouraged  to  persevere  in  the  intention 
he  possessed,  of  at  least  making  an  endeavour   o  reconquer  his  kingdom. 

liut  that  kingdom  had  finally  rejected  him,  and  was  even  at  that  moment 
eni'xjcd  in  discussing  the  means  of  erecting  a  secure  and  free  govern- 
aietit  upon  the  ruins  of  his  most  unwise,  gratuitous,  and  absurd  despotism. 


CH.\PTER  LVI. 

THE    RBION    OF   WILMAM    III. 

A.  D.  1^89. — The  most  influential  members  of  both  houses  of  parliament, 
the  privy  'louncil,  with  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  the  lord  mayor  and 
other  leading  men,  now  debated  upon  the  course  that  ought  to  be  taken. 
Kiiiif  James  was  alive  ;  he  had  not  formally  resigned  his  throne  ;  no  actual 
hostilities  had  taken  place  between  him  and  his  people,  nor  had  he  by 
armfe  or  by  law  been  formally  deposed.  Bet  lie  had  fled  from  the  king- 
dom at  the  mere  appearance  of  an  invade-,  and  on  the  bare,  however  vvell- 
fountied,  assumption  of  the  hostility  of  his  peonle  and  their  concert  with 
the  invading  power.  A  clearer  case  of  constructive  abdication  it  would 
not  he  easy  to  conceive,  and  both  houses  of  parliament  at  once  proceeded 
to  vote  that  the  king  had  abdicated. 

But  aiiotlier  and  more  diflicult  point  now  remained  for  consideration. 
Tal<mg  the  king's  abdication  to  be  undisputed — who  was  to  succeed  himi 
Could  he,  because  weary  of  the  throne  or  unahi  .  to  maintain  himself  upon 
it,  CM'  off  tke  entail  of  the  throne?  His  queen  w<.d  recently  delivered  of  a 
son  ;  tiiat  son,  by  the  well  known  Knglish  la->v  o(  suci;ession,  had  right  of 
iiihe.itaiice  prior  to  the  princesses ;  ougiit  he  not,  then,  to  be  made  king, 
and  a  regency  appointed  ?  But,  if  so,  would  not  the  paternity  of  James 
I'lialile  him  to  continue  his  despotism  through  .lis  son  when  the  latter 
should  attain  his  majority  ?  The  point  was  a  most  important  one,  and  as 
ililficult  of  solution  as  it  was  important;  but  we  have  ever  been  of  opinion 
itiat  the  leading  statesmen  of  that  day  decided  upon  it  very  much  in  the 
spirit  of  the  son  of  Philip,  wlio  cut  the  Gordian  knot  which  he  found  him- 
sdf  unable  to  untie.  The  revolution  was,  undouoledly,  a  necessary  one, 
for  .lames'  tyranny  was  great  and  insensate ;  and  it  was  a  glorious  one, 
inasmuch  as  it  was  accomplished  without  bloodslied.  Hut  these  consider- 
ations, important  as  they  are,  must  not  prevent  us  from  denouncing  the 
iiiju.tice  with  which  the  leading  men  of  England,  finding  themselves  in 
ffreat  and  grievous  difficulty  how  to  reconcile  their  own  liberties  and  the 
rights  of  the  infant  son  of  ttie  abiiicated  king,  pronounced  that  son  supp'- 
itiitwus  !  The  most  ridiculous  tales  were  told  and  credited  ;  it  was  eveii 
averred  that  the  queen  had  never  been  pregnriit  at  all,  but  that  the  child 
who  was  now  pronounced  supposititious  had  been  conveyed  to  the  apart- 


.■'•,'4 


THE  TREASI'llY  OF  HIHTOIIY. 


iiu'iits  of  the  (jiictii  from  ihitsi  ''.„.,  it-,:!  laoilier  in  a  wuniiiiig  pan!  fiui 
wluiii  iiu'ii  liiivc  (iciciiiiiiicil  iiptiii  .i.JMv'.ce  any  [.rflcxt  will  serve  ilicjf 
turn.  Tlic  V' 1,111^'  prince,  IIkm,  v/;i»  pruii'iuiiccd  illc^itiinule,  and  Hm 
llinfiu;  liriiiy  iiii  jt  was  llicn  projMiHtMl  to  raist;  llu'  priiicnss  of  Orange, 
Jainrs' rlilcsi  i;{litrr.  Id  llic  lliroin'  as  licr  licrcdilary  riulit.  Hul  to  tins 
course  llicrc  v., is  an  iiisuiicrahlc  and  nncxpci'tr'd  o'nst ;.  !■  'I'lic  liigli  aiij 
Rlorn  anibitiuii  of  llir  prim  t;  of  Orange  forbadt;  liiin,  i!.  hi:'  >>\vi\  coarso  but 
"xprissivi,'  pliraso  "to  accept  of  a  kingdom  wliicli  lie  was  to  hold  only  by 
liis  wifi's  apron  Hlriiifrs."  Me  would  cillier  li  ive  tlu;  crown  conferred 
upon  liinisi'lf,  or  lie  would  return  to  liis  own  country  and  leave  the  Kn- 
ylisli  to  s(  Itb;  their  own  dilUcnities  as  lliey  best  nn)',lit ;  and  aceordiiigly 
the  ei'iiwn  was  settled  upon  William  and  Mary  and  tiieir  heirH,  tlie  adnnii- 
istration  of  affairs  beiii^  vt^stcJ  in  William  alone. 

Ttioii:;ti  III*!  declaration  of  toleration  issued  by  James  had  given  such 
deep  and  i(eneral  olTeiice,  it  had  done  so  only  iis  it  indicated  the  desire  of 
James  to  deprive  both  the  church  of  KiH(Iand  and  the  dissenters  of  security 
from  the  inroads  of  papacy.  Presuming  from  this  fact  that  toli.ralioii 
would  not  in  itself  be  disagreeable  to  the  nation,  William  commenced  hin 
reign  by  an  attempt  to  repeal  the  laws  liiat  commanded  uiiifonmly  ol 
wor.-^hip.  Hut  the  Kiii^lish,as  has  well  been  rfiniarked,werc  "more  readj 
to  examine  tlie  I'ommands  of  their  su|)eriors  than  to  obey  thein ;"  aiii/ 
William,  althoucih  looked  upon  as  the  deliverer  of  the  nation,  could  oiilj 
BO  far  succeed  in  this  design,  as  to  procure  toleration  for  sucli  dissenleri 
as  should  hold  no  private  conventicles  and  should  take  the  oaths  of  allciri 
diice. 

The  attenlioa  of  William,  liowcvor,  was  very  speedily  ealled  from  thi 
regulation  of  his  new  kingdom  to  the  measures  necessary  for  itb  jirc-^erva 
tion.  James,  as  we  have  said,  was  received  in  France  with  great  friend 
ship;  and  Ireland,  mainly  catholic,  still  remained  true  to  him.  Ilaviiij} 
asseml)led  all  tin;  force  he  could,  therefore,  James  determined  to  make 
Irtdand  his  point  d\i/)/)ui,  and,  embarking  at  lirest,  lie  landed  at  the  port  of 
Kinsal'  (-1  the  2'.2d  of  May,  KiSO.  Hire  everything  tended  to  Halter  liis 
liope-.  Ill:  progress  to  Dublin  was  a  sort  of  triumpii.  Tyrconnel,  tlie 
lord  !i-'"i!:;i»nt,  received  iiim  with  loy.il  ivarmth  aiui  respect;  llic  old  army 
v,'u.-i  1. 01  ne.  .'ely  faitiiful  but  zealous,  and  was  very  easily  increased  by  new 
levies  ti.'  tin;  imposing  forci;  of  forlv  thousand  men. 

Soiie.  !'  w  towns  in  Ireland,  being  chiefly  iidiabitcd  by  protectants,  had 
declared  lor  King  William,  and  among  these  was  Derry,  or  Londonderry, 
and  to  this  town  James  at  once  proceiided  to  lay  siege.  The  military 
authorities  would  probably  have  been  giad  to  have  d^-livered  the  place  up 
to  their  lawful  sovereign;  but  a  cler.;yinan,  Mr.  George  Walker,  placed 
himself  at  the  iiead  of  the  protestant  innabitants  of  tiie  town,  and  worked 
up  their  minds  to  such  a  pilch  of  enthusiasm  that  they  resolved  to  hold 
out  the  place,  until  it  should  be  relieved  by  William,  or  perish  in  the  at- 
tempt. TIk!  entiiusiasm  spread  to  the  very  lowest  and  weakest  of  tlic 
population ;  and  though  famine  and  fever  made  fearful  ravages,  and  sinii 
loathsdino  objects  as  cats  uaJ  rats  became  coveted  for  food,  the  besieged 
still  held  out.  This  devotion  was  at  length  rewarded.  A  storcsiiip, 
heavily  laden  witli  provision,  broke  the  boom  which  had  been  laid  across 
the  river,  and  the  famished  inhabitants  cf  Derry  received  at  once  an  abiiii- 
dant  supply  of  provisions  and  a  ipost  welcome  addition  to  their  garrisim 
of  hale  and  fresh  men.  James,  dur'.ig  this  obstinate  siege,  had  lost  iiiin- 
thousand  of  his  troop-,  and  as  the  aid  now  thrown  into  the  town  reiuleivd 
liis  success  more  unlikely  than  ever,  he  withdrew  his  army  in  tiie  nigiil, 
and  pre|)ared  to  meet  William,  who  in  person  was  about  to  attack  him. 

A.  o.  1G90. — Tiie  hostile  armies  came  in  sigiit  of  eacii  other  upon  the 
opposite  sid(!S  of  the  river  Boyne,  which  iniglit  easdy  have  been  forded 
but  for  diicheo  and  old  houses  which  rendered  the  banks  defensible.    To 


THE  TREASniY  OF  HISTOllY. 


lined  by  Williiim  \va» 
''■'oiially  Icil  on  hia 
iji'  which  Junics 
otion  iiiid  daring, 
question,  uiiil  had 


this  facility  of  anihiish,  in  fact,  the  life  of  Willintn  very  nearly  lK>came  t 
iarrifii'f.  As  h»'  rode  out  along  hi»  lini'N  to  rt'connoiirf  hia  opponent*  and 
detirinino  upon  fiis  plan  of  hatllo,  a  vaniion  was  Hfcretly  pointed  at  hiin, 
and  tired  ^^  iih  "  I'h  (rood  aim  that  he  was  wounded  in  the  shautder,  tev- 
era!  of  his  ainrt  bcin),'  kiiifd  hy  his  side. 

On  111*'  foilowiiii}  niorniiijf  William  com-n'Miccd  operations  by  cannon* 
aditiK  ili'^  masking  liuu.scs  from  which  he  had  sutFcrcd  ko  much  annoyance, 
and  llien  he  led  over  his  army  in  three  divisions.  They  crossed  the  river 
witli'>ut  any  cunsiderahle  Ions,  formed  in  go.xl  order  on  the  opposite  aide 
and  an  ol)!^tinate  hattle  ensued.  'l'h(;  Irish,  as  well  as  their  French  and 
jjwiss  allies,  fought  well  and  zealously,  but  ihe\  v,re  inferior  in  cavalry  ; 
and  the  furious  charges  of  William's  cavalry .  \v  .  n  by  himself,  at  length 
caused  the  Irish  to  retreat,  and  the  mere  ni  nary  Swiss  and  F'rench 
very  speedily  followed.  Perhaps  the  vict 
in  no  slight  degree  owing  to  the  fact  o|  I 
troops,  who  were  thus  inspired  wiih  a  , 
should  have  lent  to  his  troo|)s  by  a  siinilii>  f- 
Hut  though  James'  personal  courage  was 

been  Hi|4nally  shown  during  the  Dutch  war  in  iul  n  i^  ,i  of  his  brother,  ho 
on  this  occasion  allowed  the  prudence  of  the  s6veieiiin  to  outweigh  the 
impulses  of  the  soldier.  Posted  on  the  hill  of  Dunmore,  which  com- 
manded the  scene  of  action,  he  gazed  upon  the  eventful  battle  without 
even  detaching  a  squadron  of  the  horse  which  surrounded  him  to  aid  ia 
repulsing  the  terrible  cavalry  charges  of  William.  The  defeat  of  the  Irish 
army  was  as  complete  as  might  have  been  anticipated  from  this  very  op- 
posite conduct  of  the  opposing  leaders.  Of  James'  troops  nearly  fifteen 
hundred  were  killed  and  wounded,  while  William  lost  barely  a  third  of 
that  number.  But  he  sustained  a  heavy  loss,  indeed,  in  the  death  of  the 
brave  and  able  duke  of  Schomberg,  who  was  shot  as  he  crossed  the  river, 
cheering  on  his  men. 

A.  D.  1G!)1. — Disastrous  as  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  had  proved  to  Jamca, 
it  did  not  altogether  destroy  his  hopes.  By  great  exertions  he  got  an 
army  again  into  condition  for  service,  and  it  was  now  committed  to  the 
leadership  of  General  St.  Ruth,  a  man  of  known  gallantry  and  conduct 
This  army  was  met  by  that  of  the  English  at  Aughrim ;  and  the  boggy 
nature  of  the  ground  in  which  St.  Ruth  had  taken  up  an  admirable  position 
enabled  him  to  repulse  the  English  with  great  loss  in  several  charges. 
But,  though  galled  and  weakened,  they  returned  to  the  charge  with 
inflexible  resolution,  and  St.  Ruth  being  killed  by  a  cannon  ball,  his  men 
fell  into  disorder,  and  retreated  to  Limerick  with  the  loss  of  upwards  of 
five  thousand  of  their  number. 

William  now  proceeded  to  besiege  Limerick,  the  garrison  of  which  city, 
aided  by  the  troops  who  had  escaped  frjin  Aughrim,  made  a  gallant  and 
obstinate  defence  ;  but  the  English  gained  ground  so  rapidly  that,  to  avoid 
the  horrors  which  must  have  resulted  from  the  place  being  taken  by  as- 
sault, the  Irish  leaders  demanded  a  parley.  William  was  neither  bigoted 
nor  cruel,  and  he  offered  no  objection  to  the  terms  on  which  the  garrison 
proposed  to  surrender.  These  terms  were,  that  the  catholics  of  Ireland 
should  have  that  freedom  of  religion  which  they  had  enjoyed  under  Charles 
I.,  and  fliat  all  Irish  persons  should  be  at  liberty  to  remove  with  their 
'aiTii.'es  and  property  to  any  part  of  the  world,  excepting  England  and 
•Scotland.  Above  fourteen  thousand  availed  themselves  of  this  latter 
siitu.ation,  and  were  conveyed  to  France  at  the  expense  of  the  English 
sovernnient. 

A.  D.  1692.-Williain  aspired  to  the  distinction  of  being  head  of  the  pro- 

'estant  interests  in  Europe :  hence  the  country  was  almost  perpetually 

e»i^aged  In  continental  wars ;  and  if  it  were  not  absolutely  necessary  to 

now  the  energies  of  the  English  .?ation  into  the  scale,  it  suited  the  king'* 

Vol   L— 40 


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33  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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696 


THE  TREA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


warlike  disposition;  for  thougli  he  was  by  no  means  uniformly succeesful 
at  the  head  of  his  troops,  he  possessed  the  necessary  courage  and  forti- 
tude,  and  was,  beyond  ail  doubt,  a  superior  military  commander.  We 
shall  not,  however,  enter  the  arena  of  his  warlike  achievements,  as  gen 
eral  of  the  allied  armies,  in  the  long  and  arduous  struggle  aganjst  tht 
power  and  restless  ambition  of  Louis  XIV.,  but  keep  our  attention  fixed 
on  tiiose  matters  which  more  exclusively  refer  to  England.  Among  these 
was  the  celebrated  victory  off  La  Hogue  gained  by  the  English  and  Dutch 
fleets,  over  the  French.  The  latter  consisted  of  sixty-three  ships,  and  the 
confederate  fleet  of  ninety-nine ;  but  scarce  one  half  could  come  to  an 
engagement.  The  French  fleet  was  entirely  defeated,  and  driven  to  their 
own  coast ;  and  at  La  Hogue  and  other  places,  no  less  than  twenty-one 
of  their  largest  men-of-war  were  destroyed,  within  two  or  three  days  after 
Ihe  battle.  Among  the  rest,  the  French  admiral's  ship,  the  Rising  Sun, 
was  set  on  fire,  within  sight  of  the  army  that  was  to  have  made  a  descent 
upon  England.  Not  a  single  ship  was  lost  o:?  tlie  part  of  the  English. 
At  this  time  William  was  in  Holland;  but  as  soon  as  the  fleet  arrived  at 
Bpithead,  the  queen  sent  £30,000  to  be  distributed  among  the  sailors,  and 
gold  medals  for  the  oflicers,  in  acknowledgment  for  this  splendid  and 
liinely  victory. 

With  the  celebrated  treaty  of  Limerick  perished  the  last  hope  of  James 
JO  regain  his  English  dominion  by  the  aid  of  Ireland.  The  king  of  France 
illowed  him  a  considerable  pension,  and  his  daughter  and  English  friends 
occasionally  aided  him  to  a  considerable  amount.  He  passed  his  time 
(n  study,  in  charity,  and  in  religious  duties  ;  and  even  the  poor  monks  of 
La  Trappe,  to  whom  he  paid  frequent  visits,  confessed  themselves  edified 
oy  tlie  mildness  of  his  manners  and  the  humility  of  his  sentiments.  We 
especially  dwell  upon  this  behaviour  of  James,  not  only  because  it  shows 
m  a  strong  point  of  view  how  bad  a  king  a  good  man  may  be;  in  other 
words,  how  much  of  a  peculiar  ability  must  be  added  to  the  greatest  and 
best  virtues  of  a  private  man  to  prevent  a  king  from  failing,  to  his  own 
and  his  people's  vast  injury,  in  the  fulfilment  of  the  tremendous  duties  of 
the  throne,  but  also  because  it  goes  to  refute  a  cruel  calumny  which  but 
too  many  historians  have  joined  in  perpetuating  upon  the  memory  of 
James. 

Excited  as  men's  minds  were  by  the  revolution,  what  could  be  more 
probable  than  that  bigoted  and  ignorant  admirers  of  the  expelled  James 
should  resort  to  any  means,  however  wicked,  to  assail  William  upon  wiiat 
they,  as  being  still  loyal  to  the  absent  king,  must  have  viewed  as  a  guilt- 
ily  usurped  throne.  The  dastardly  crime  of  assassination  was  resorted 
to  against  William  ;  and  the  vile  crime  of  the  foiled  assassins,  has,  with- 
out  the  shadow  of  a  proof,  been  attributed  to  the  suggestion  of  James 
But,  whether  as  man  or  monarch,  every  action  of  his  life  is  opposed  to 
the  probability  of  this  vile  imputation.  Tyrannous,  arbitrary,  and  bigoted 
he  was ;  but  he  was  stern,  direct,  and  sturdy.  Even  in  his  earlier  days 
he  would  have  resorted  to  open  force,  not  to  dastardly  treachery ;  and 
after  the  treaty  of  Limerick  had  deprived  him  of  all  reasonable  hope  of 
recovering  his  kingdom,  his  mind  evidently  became  impressed  with  a 
deep  sense  of  the  worthlessness  of  worldly  prosperity  and  greatness. 
He  became  more  a  monk  in  spirit  than  many  were  who  wore  the  monk- 
ish cowl ;  and  so  far,  we  think,  was  he  from  being  willing  to  remove  hi» 
successful  rival  by  the  hand  of  the  assassin,  that  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  he  did  not  deem  the  usurped  greatness  of  that  rival  far  more  ia 
the  light  of  a  curse  than  of  a  blessing. 

James  survived  the  extinction  of  his  kingly  hopes  rather  more  than 
seven  years.  His  ascetic  way  of  life,  acting  upon  a  frame  much  en. 
feebled  by  previous  struggles  and  chagrins,  threw  him  into  a  painful  and 
tedious  disease,  and  he  died  on  the  sixteenth  of  September,  1700— his  laHt 


THh.  TttBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


627 


Bsrui 

forli- 
We 

igeu 
St  tht 

fixed 

these 
Dutch 
lid  the 

to  an 
0  their 
ity-one 
'3  after 
\g  Sun, 
ie scent 
Inglish. 
rived  at 
)rs,  and 
did  and 

if  James 
f  France 
[i  friends 
his  time 
nonks  of 
Bs  edified 
Its.  We 
it  shows 
,  in  othei 
latest  and 
3  his  own 
;  duties  o( 
which  but 
emory  of 

be  more 
[ed  James 
ipon  what 
IS  a  guiU- 
resorted 
[lias,  witii- 
lof  James 
Apposed  to 
lid  bigoted 
[rlier  days 
[hery ;  and 
]e  hope  of 
led  with  a 
greatness. 
Jtlic  monk- 
lemove  hi» 
>e  doubted 
IV  more  in 

Imore  than 

much  en. 

jainful  and 

fo— his  la«t 


moments  being  spent  in  enjoining  his  son  to  prefer  religion  to  all  worldly 
advantages,  however  alluring.  At  his  own  especial  request,  made  just 
before  his  death,  James  was  interred,  without  any  attempt  at  funeral 
pomp,  in  the  church  of  the  English  Benedictines  at  Paris. 

A.  D.  16!)7. — In  our  desire  to  trace  the  royal  exile,  James,  to  the  very 
close  of  his  eventful  and  unfortunate  career,  we  have  somewhat  out- 
stepped the  chronological  march  of  our  history. 

Tliough  an  able  politician,  and  though,  at  the  commencement  of  his 
reign,  sufficiently  well  inclined  to  use  and  preserve  so  much  prerogative 
as  could  belong  to  the  eleitted  monarch  of  a  people  who  had  recentl) 
beheaded  one  sovereign  and  driven  another  into  exile,  William  very  soon 
grew  weary  of  disputing  with  his  cabinet.  In  truth,  merely  domestic 
politics  were  not  William's  forte.  He  had  the  mind  and  the  expansive 
gaze  of  an  emperor  rather  than  the  minute  views  of  a  king,  and  was  cal- 
culated rather  to  rule  nations  than  to  watch  over  the  comparatively  small 
affairs  of  a  single  state.  He  saw  how  much  the  vast  power  of  France 
required,  for  the  welfare  of  Europe,  to  be  kept  in  ciieck;  and  he  gladly, 
therefore,  allowed  his  ministers  to  infringe  upon  his  prerogative  as  to 
England,  on  condition  of  their  adording  him  the  means  of  regulating  the 
disturbed  bnhince  of  power  in  Europe.  Tlie  history  of  his  reign  may  be 
gummed  up  in  two  words — war  and  funding.  Aided  by  the  real  and  orig- 
inal genius  of  Burnett,  bishop  of  Saruni,  William  contrived  that  means  of 
anticipating  the  taxes,  of  mortgaging  the  resources  of  the  nation,  which 
in  creating  tlie  national  debt  has  doubtless  led  to  much  evil,  but  which 
has  also  been  the  means  of  carrying  England  triumphantly  through  strug- 
gles under  which  it  otherwise  must  have  sunk,  and  to  a  pitch  of  wealth 
and  grealues,^  to  which  it  could  never  have  aspired,  even  in  wish.  The 
treaty  of  Ryswick  at  length  put  an  end  to  the  sanguinary  and  expensive 
war  with  Franco.  It  has  been  observed  that  the  only  benefit  secured  to 
England  by  that  treaty  was  the  formal  recognition  of  William's  sov- 
eroigiUy  by  the  French  king.  But  it  should  not  be  forgott(>n  that  Eiig- 
lanJ,  in  common  with  all  the  rest  of  Europe,  was  served  and  saved  by 
tlio  check  given  to  the  gigantic  power  and  the  overweening  ambition  of 
France. 

Willi  war  the  king's  life  may  almost  be  said  to  have  terminated.  From 
boyhood  he  had  been  of  a  feeble  constitution,  and  long  inquietude  of 
mind  and  exposure  of  body  had  now  completely  exhausted  him.  Being 
ihrown  from  his  horse  he  fractured  his  collar-bono.  It  was  set,  but  he  in- 
sisted upon  being  carried  to  his  favourite  residence,  Kensington  palace. 
The  motion  of  the  carriage  disunited  the  fractured  bone,  and  the  [lain 
and  irritation  caused  fever  and  diarrhoea,  which,  in  spite  of  all  that  Bidloo 
lui'l  other  skilfid  surgeons  could  devise,  terminated  the  king's  life,  in  the 
thirteenth  year  of  his  reign  and  the  fifty-second  of  his  age.  Even  in  his 
last  inomonts  the  "ruling  passion"  was  strong  within  him,  and  only  two 
days  before  his  death  he  held  a  long  and  anxious  conference  on  the 
state  of  Europe  with  the  carl  of  Albemarle,  who  had  brought  some  im- 
portant intolligoiice  from  Holland. 

Cold  and  reserved  in  his  manners,  William  was  far  from  being  an 
amiable  man.  But  he  was  moderate  in  his  private  expenses,  and  so  de- 
vote d  to  war  and  statesmanship  that  he  had  neither  time  nor  inclination 
for  private  vices.  As  a  sovereign  he  obtained  his  power  by  an  entire  dis- 
regard to  the  feelings  ami  interests  of  his  father-in-law,  such  as  we  can- 
not easily  refrain  from  taking  to  be  the  evidence  of  a  bad  heart.  But  he 
used  his  power  well,  defending  the  honour  and  the  interests  of  his  sub- 
jei'ts  abroad,  and  doing  aa  mucli  for  toleration  and  liberty  at  home  as 
they  deserved— for  he  did  all  that  their  own  prejudices  and  jealousiei 
would  allow  him. 


128 


THE  TUEAbURY  OF  BISTORT. 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

THE   REION  or   ANNS. 

A.  D.  1702. — William  III.  having  survived  his  wife,  by  whom  he  left  no 
Iscue,  Anne,  second  daughter  of  James  II.,  married  to  Prince  George  of 
Denmark,  ascended  the  throne  amid  a  general  satisfaction,  which  one 
might  reasonably  have  expected  to  be  greatly  checked  by  the  remem- 
brance of  her  extraordinary  and  unnatural  treatment  of  her  father  in  the 
darkest  hour  of  his  distress. 

Anne,  at  the  time  of  her  accession,  was  in  the  thirty-eighth  year  of  her 
age,  pleasing  in  her  person  and  manner,  domestic  in  her  habits,  and,  with 
the  dark  exception  to  which  we  have  alluded,  of  amiable  and  excellent 
character. 

One  of  the  first  acts  of  the  queen  was  to  send  a  message  to  the  house 
of  commons  announcing  her  intention  of  declaring  war  against  France; 
and  this  intention  was  warmly  applauded  by  the  house!  Yet  the  reign 
of  this  queen  has  been  very  truly  called  the  Augustan  period  of  literature ; 
80  true  it  is  that  the  ferocious  instincts  of  mankind  resist  even  the  soft- 
ening influence  of  letters.  For  war  at  that  period  England  had  none  of 
that  real  necessity,  that  impulse  of  self-preservation  as  to  cither  the  pres- 
ent or  the  future,  without  which  war  is  little,  if  at  all,  better  than  whole* 
sale  and  legitimatized  murder;  but  hatred  of  the  French  natron  contin- 
ued in  full  force,  although  the  power  of  the  French  to  be  mischievous 
was  already  very  greatly  curtailed ;  and  the  Dutch  and  Germans  not  only 
joined  Kngland,  but  actually  declared  war  against  France  on  the  very 
same  day.  Though  such  a  combination  of  powei-s  was  strong  enough  to 
portend  danger  even  to  the  wealthy  and  warlike  France,  the  French  king 
received  the  news  without  any  apparent  feeling,  except  tliat  of  mortifi! 
cation  that  the  Dutch  should  venture  to  be  hostile  to  him  ;  and  this  fenl- 
ing  he  expressed  by  saying,  that,  "as  for  those  pedlars,  the  Dutch,  they 
ehould  be  dearly  taught  to  repent  their  impertinent  presumption  in  de- 
claring war  against  a  king  whose  power  they  had  formerly  felt  as  well  as 
dreaded." 

Of  the  campaigns  that  followed  this  declaration  of  war  we  shall  not 
even  attempt  to  give  tlin  details.  Even  where  the  historian's  rages  have 
no  limit  but  his  own  will,  there  is,  probabiy,  no  portion  of  h'  nr  less 
useful  to  his  readers  than  his  minute  account  of  battles,  sicji  'srehcs, 
and  countermarches,  which  must  be  unintollig:ible  to  all  exv  .,.  military 
headers,  without  the  aid  of  maps  so  expensive  that  few  readers  can  com- 
mand them.  Hut  in  the  present  case  such  details,  besides  being  beyond 
tlic  limits  of  our  pages,  are  really  unnecessary.  ■■  Blenheim,  Ramillies, 
Oudenard,  and  Malplaquet,  were  victories  as  useless  as  they  were  ro(?tly 
and  decisive;  they  gratified  the  splendid  ambi.lon  and  the  sordid  avarie"? 
of  Marlborough,  but  to  England  they  were  entirely  unproductive  of  so.'/l 
benefit. 

It  is  a  singular  fact,  and  one  not  very  creditable  to  the  nation,  that  while 
enormous  treasure  was  wasted  in  san<:^uinary  and  useless  victories,  ^.ai 
>he  most  unbounded  applause  was  bestowed  upon  the  victors,  (>ne  of  thf 
most  important  and  splendid  conquest?  ever  made  for  England,  w.is  re- 
warded not  merely  by  neglect,  but  by  absolute  and  cruel  insult.  We  al 
!ude  til  the  capture  of  Gibraltar  by  Sir  George  Rooke.  .Sir  Cloudcsl-y 
Shovel  and  Sir  (korge  Rooke  had  been  seat  out  to  watch  a  fleet  wlw'h 
the  Fn'nch  were  known  to  be  equipping  at  Brest,  and  Sir  (i'.'oriro  w;is 
luitlier  ordered  to  convoy  some  Ir.-.iispoit-sbips  to  Biireeloiir.,  win  le  I't; 
prince  of  Hetise  made  an  unsuccessful  attack.  The  troop'^  Inving  f:'.ilp  1 
ou  this  ^'oint  were  re-embarked,  and  the  English  commanders,  anx'ons  ■.o 


THB  TRBABURT  OF  HI8T0BT. 


8!t9 


house 
ranee ; 
B  reign 
rature ; 
le  sofl- 
lonc  of 
le  pTPS- 
i  whole- 
contin- 
shievous 
not  only 
the  very 
nough  to 
nch  king 
f  mortifi- 
thi9  fcf.l- 
tch,  they 
M\  in  rto- 
\s  well  as 


tiirn  the  expedition  to  some  advantage,  determined  upon  attacking  Gib- 
mltar,  then  in  the  possession  of  the  Spaniards,  who,  deeming  it  inipreg« 
nable  by  its  own  strength,  kept  it  but  inconsiderably  garrisoned. 

In  truth,  the  situation  of  Gibraltar  is  such  that  it  might  well  lead  the 
Spaniards  into  an  overweening  opinion  of  its  strength,  the  town  standi 
ing  upon  a  tongue  of  land  which  is  defended  on  every  side  but  that  near 
est  to  the  Spanish  territory  by  an  inaccessible  rock.  Upon  that  side  the 
prince  of  Hesse  landed  eighteen  hundred  men,  and  proceeded  to  summon 
the  garrison.  The  governor  paid  no  attention  to  this  summons,  and  on 
the  following  day  the  fleet  commenced  a  warm  cannonading,  by  wh:ca 
the  defenders  of  the  south  mole  head  were  driven  from  their  post.  Cap- 
tains Hicks  and  Jumper  now  led  a  numerous  party,  sword  in  hand,  into 
the  fortifications,  but  they  had  scarcely  entered  when  the  Spaniards  sprung 
a  mine,  by  which  two  lieutenants  and  a  hundred  men  were  killed  and 
wounded.  The  remainder,  gallantly  headed  by  the  captains  named 
above,  maintained  their  post  in  spite  of  the  horrible  explosion  which  had 
80  fearfully  thinned  their  numbers,  and  the  rest  of  the  seamen  being 
now  landed  by  Captain  Whitaker,  the  mole  and  the  town  were  taken  by 
storm.  When  it  is  considered  that  Gibraltar  has  been  of  immense  im< 
portance  to  England  ever  since,  both  in  protecting  our  Mediterranean 
trade  and  serving  as  an  outfitting  and  sheltering  port  for  our  navies  des- 
tined to  annoy  an  enemy,  it  seems  incredible,  but  is,  unfortunately,  only 
too  true,  that  parliament  and  the  ministry,  so  lavish  of  rewards  and  praise 
to  the  costly  and  useless  services  performed  elsewhere,  refused  Sir 
George  Rooke  even  the  formal  honour  of  a  vote  of  thanks,  and  he  was 
shortly  afterwards  displaced  from  his  comnvand. 

Philip  IV.,  grandson  of  Louis  XIV.  of  France,  having  been  nominat'* 
king  of  Spain  by  the  will  of  the  late  king,  was  placed  upon  the  thiune, 
and,  as  he  was  apparently  agreeable  to  the  majority  of  his  subjects,  and, 
besides,  was  supported  by  the  power  of  France,  all  opposition  to  Pirn 
would  to  ordinary  minds  have  appeared  hopeless.  But  Charles,  son  of 
the  emperor  of  Germany,  had  formerly  been  nominated  to  the  Spanish 
succession,  and  Prance  herself  had  been  a  party  to  that  nomination. 
Charles,  therefore,  encouraged  by  th.  promised  support  of  the  warlike 
inhabitants  of  the  province  of  Catalonia,  determined  to  assert  his  right. 
In  this  determination  he  was  strengthened  by  England  and  Portugal,  who 
supplied  him  with  two  hundred  transports,  thirty  ships  of  war,  and  a 
force  of  nearly  ten  thousand  men.  Considerable  as  this  force  was,  it  yet 
was  small  when  compared  to  the  mighty  resources  of  the  Spanish  king 
de  facto;  but  in  the  judgment  of  military  men,  as  well  as  in  the  popular 
opinion,  the  comparative  smallness  of  Charles'  force  was  amply  com< 
pensated  by  the  genius  and  romantic  bravery  of  the  commander  of  it, 
the  earl  of  Peterborough,  who  gave  Charles  the  aid  of  his  vast  fortune 
as  well  as  his  personal  exertions. 

The  earl  of  Peterborough  was  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  men  of 
that  age.  Though  very  much  deformed  in  person,  he  excelled  m  all  mil- 
itary exercises.  At  fifteen  he  fought  as  a  volunteer  against  the  Moors 
in  Africa,  and  in  every  action  he  was  distinguished  for  daring  and  con- 
duct. The  great  experience  he  had  acquired,  and  the  influence  of  his 
character  upon  the  soldiery,  were  much  and  justly  relied  on  to  forward 
the  cause  of  Charles.  His  very  first  action  justified  that  reliance,  as  he 
took  the  strong  city  of  Barcelona  with  its  well  provided  garrison  of  five 
thousand  men.  Had  the  earl  of  Peterborough  now  been  left  to  the  prompt- 
ings of  his  own  high  and  chivalrous  spirit,  there  is  but  little  room  to 
doubt  that  he  would  have  achieved  still  more  brilliant  successes.  But 
some  petty  intrigues,  by  which  both  Charles  and  the  English  government 
very  weakly  allowed  themselves  to  be  duped,  led  to  the  recall  of  the  earl* 
whose  command  was  transferred  to  Lord  Oalway.    That  nobleman  nxioa 


630 


THB  TRBASURY  OF  HISTOET, 


after  came  to  a  general  action  with  the  Spanish  troopa,  commanded  by 
the  Duke  of  Berwick,  who  had  taken  up  a  position  on  the  phiins  near  the 
town  of  Almanza.  For  a  time  Charles'  troops,  consisting  chiefly  of 
Dutch  and  English  infantry,  seemed  greatly  to  have  the  advantage.  But 
in  the  very  heat  and  crisis  of  the  action,  the  Portuguese  horse,  which 
protected  eitl-er  flank  ot  Chailes'  lino,  were  seized  with  a  sudden  and  dig- 
graceful  panic,  and  fled  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  that  were  made  to  rally 
them.  The  di  ke  of  Berwijk  immediately  closed  in  upon  the  exposed 
flanks,  and  Galway,  bsing  men  at  every  step,  had  barely  time  to  throw 
his  army  into  a  square  and  retire  to  a  neighbouring  eminence.  Here  they 
were  comparatively  free  from  the  attacks  of  the  enemy,  but  they  were 
destitute  of  provisions  and  ignorant  of  the  country;  and  as  it  was  evi- 
dently the  design  as  it  was  in  the  power  of  the  enemy  to  starve  them 
into  submission,  the  ofllcers  reluctantly  agreed  to  capitulate.  A  flne  army 
often  thousand  men  thus  became  prisoners  of  war;  and  Philip  was  more 
firmly  th^n  ever  seated  upon  his  throne,  not  a  voice  now  being  raised 
against  him  except  in  the  still  malcontent  province  of  Catalonia. 

We  will  now  turn  to  the  more  important  domestic  events  of  this  reign. 
Though  the  ancession  of  James  I.  to  the  English  throne  had  to  a  certain 
extent  united  England  and  Scotland,  there  was  still  an  independent  Scot- 
tish parliament.  In  practice  this  was  often  inconvenient  and  always 
dangerous ;  the  votes  of  the  Scottish  parliament  often  ran  counter  to 
those  of  the  English  parliament,  and  it  required  no  remarkable  amount  ot 
political  wisdom  to  foresee,  that,  under  certain  circumstances,  such,  for 
instance,  as  actually  occurred  in  the  reigns  of  George  I.  and  George  II,, 
this  diffierence  might  be  fatal  by  strengthening  the  hands  of  a  pretender 
and  plunging  the  country  into  a  civil  war.     Theoretically,  the  separate 

{tftiliament  of  Scotland  was  ridiculously  indefensible.  Scotland  and  Eng- 
and  being  already  united  under  one  crown,  how  absurd  it  was  that  the 
parliament  at  Westminster,  held  perfectly  competent  to  enact  laws  for 
Cumberland  and  Northumberland,  became  legislatorially  incapable  a  few 
feet  over  the  border!  But  so  much  more  powerful  are  custom  and  preju- 
dice than  reason,  that  the  first  proposal  to  do  away  with  this  nt  once  ab- 
surd and  dangerous  distinction  was  received  as  though  it  had  been  a  pro- 
posal to  abridge  some  dear  and  indefeasible  liberty  of  the  Scottish  people. 
For  once  reason  prevailed  over  idle  or  interested  clamour,  and  both  par- 
liaments simultaneously  passed  an  act  appointing  and  authorizing  com- 
missioners, named  by  the  queen,  to  draw  up  articles  for  the  parliamentary 
union  of  the  two  kingdoms — that  term  being  in  itself  an  absurdity  from 
the  very  day  of  the  death  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

The  commissioners,  quickened  in  their  proceedings  by  the  queen's  de 
sire  for  dispatch,  speedily  presented  for  the  consideration  of  the  two  par- 
liaments a  series  of  articles,  by  which  full  provision  was  made  for  retain- 
ing in  force  all  the  existing  laws  of  Scotland,  except  where  alteration 
would  manifestly  benefit  that  country;  the  courts  of  session  and  other 
courts  of  Scottish  judicature  were  also  preserved,  and,  in  fact,  the  main 
alteration  was  the  abolition  of  the  anomalous  separate  parliament  of 
Scotland,  and  giving  that  country  a  representation  in  the  parliament  of 
Great  Britain  of  sixteen  peers  and  forty-five  commoners.  There  was, 
both  in  Scotland  and  on  the  part  of  the  tories  in  England,  considerable 
opposition  made  to  these  really  wise  and  necessary  articles,  but  common 
Bense  and  the  influence  of  the  crown  at  length  prevailed,  and  the  articles 
were  passed  into  law  by  a  great  majority  in  both  parliaments. 

Hitherto  the  whig  ministry,  supported  by  the  powerful  influence  of  the 

j^uchess  of  Marlborough,  had  triumphed  over  all  the  efforts  of  the  tories ; 

but  the  duchess  had  been  guilty  of  two  capital  mistakes,  by  which  she 

now  found  her  influence  very  greatly  diminished.     In  the  first  place,  for- 

etting  that  she  owed  her  vast  influence  over  the  queen  far  more  to  her 


THE  TREASURY  OF  IIISTOIIY 


«fJl 


personal  complaisance  and  agreeableness  than  to  her  ronlly  considerable 
political  talents,  she  became  so  proud  of  her  power,  that  she  relaxed  in 
those  personal  attentions  by  which  she  had  obtained  it,  and  disgusted  the 
quenn  by  an  offensive  and  dictatorial  tone.  While  she  thus  periled  her 
influence,  she  at  the  same  time  unwittingly  raised  up  a  rival  to  heriielf  in 
the  person  of  a  Mrs.  Masham,  a  poor  relation  of  lier  own,  whom  she 

E laced  in  a  confidential  situation  about  the  queen's  person,  relying  upon 
er  gratitude,  and  expecting  to  find  her  not  a  dangerous  rival,  but  a  pliant 
and  zealous  tool.  But  Mrs.  Masham  speedily  perceived  that  the  queen 
was  not  only  personally  disgusted  by  the  hauteur  of  the  duchess,  but  also 
much  inclined  to  the  tory  opinions ;  she  consequently  took  up  the  party 
of  Mr.  Harley,  afterwards  Lord  Oxford,  who  was  personally  in  the  queen's 
favour,  and  who  was  extensively  and  constantly  intriguing  for  the  ruin 
of  the  whigs.  In  conjunction  with  Mr.  St.  John,  afterwards  Lord  Boling- 
broke,  and  Sir  Simon  Harcourt,  a  lawyer  of  great  abilities,  and  aided  by 
the  personal  influence  of  Mrs-  Masham,  Harley  doubted  not  that  he  should 
triumph  oyer  the  whigs ;  and  an  event,  trifling  enough  in  itself,  soon  oc- 
curred to  develope  the  queen's  leaning  towards  the  torics,  and  to  encour- 
age it  by  showing  how  extensively  that  party  existed  among  the  people. 

A  clergyman  named  Sacheverel  had  much  distinguished  himself  by  his 
sermons  in  favour  of  high-church  principles  and  in  condemnation  of  dis- 
sent and  dissenters.  Imaginative,  impassioned,  and  possessed  of  that 
fluency  which  even  men  of  good  judgment  so  often  mistake  for  eloquence, 
he  soon  became  an  oracle  and  a  favourite  with  a  very  large  party.  Being 
appointed  to  preach  on  the  fifth  of  November,  at  St.  Paul's,  he  made  use 
of  the  "  gunpowder  plot"  as  an  argument  from  which  to  infer  that  any 
departure  frJm  the  doctrine  of  non-resistance  might  lead  to  the  most  hei- 
nous and  destructive  wickedness,  and  that  the  existing  toleration  of  dis- 
senters was  very  likely  to  be  ruinous  to  the  church  of  England,  which  he 
declared  to  be  as  ill  defended  by  its  pretended  friends,  as  it  was  fiercely 
attacked  by  its  determined  enemies.  The  lord  mayor  of  that  year.  Sir 
Samuel  Gerrard,  no  very  accurate  judge,  it  may  be  presumed,  of  either 
theological  correctness  or  literary  elegance,  allowed  the  printed  edition 
of  this  sermon  to  be  dedicated  to  him.  And  here,  probably,  the  whole 
affair  would  have  ended  and  been  forgotten,  but  for  the  injudicious  med- 
dling of  the  archbishop  Dolben's  son,  who  in  his  place  in  parliament  made 
complaint  of  the  sermon  and  read  all  the  most  violent  paragraphs  of  it ; 
a  manifestly  unfair  proceeding,  inasmuch  as  the  same  passages  might 
have  a  different  effect  when  read  with  or  without  their  context.  Instead 
of  checking  Mr.  Dolben's  ofliciousness  by  voting  the  matter  unfit  for 
their  consideration,  the  committee  voted  the  passages  read  to  be  seditious 
and  scandalous  libels;  and  Sacheverel  was  ordered  to  attend  at  the  bar 
of  the  house,  where  he  avowed  the  alledged  libels,  and  plainly  said  that 
he  gloried  in  having  published  them.  Even  this  vain  and  silly  exultation 
of  a  weak  man,  whom  an  almost  equally  weak  opponent  had  thus  sud« 
denly  dragged  into  the  notoriety  he  coveted  and  would  probably  never 
have  otherwise  obtained,  did  not  instruct  the  house  that  contempt  and  ob- 
scurity  were  the  severest  pains  and  penalties  that  could  be  inflicted  upon 
such  a  man  as  Sacheverel;  and  a  committee  was  appointed  to  draw  up 
articles  of  impeachment  against  him,  and  Mr.  Dolben  was  named  man- 
ager on  behalf  of  the  commons  of  England. 

The  harmless  declamation  of  a  vain  man  was  thus  raised  into  a  degree 
of  fictitious  importance  which  was  really  disgraceful  to  the  people,  and 
for  three  weeks  all  the  public  business  of  both  houses  of  parliament  was 
set  aside  on  account  of  a  trial  which  ought  nev.r  to  have  commenced. 
The  Lords  sat  in  Westminster  Hall,  which  was  daily  besieged  by  the 
principal  rank,  fashion,  and  beauty  of  the  capital,  the  queen  herself  set- 
ting the  example  by  attending  as  a  private  auditor  of  the  proceedings. 


<S2 


THE  TRBA8UBY  OF  HISTORY. 


Mr.  Dolben,  whose  iniudicious  meddling  had  occasioned  this  mock* 
heroic  farce,  was  assisted  in  his  absurd  prosecution  by  Sir  Joseph  Jekyll, 
Solicitor-general  Eyre,  the  recorder,  Sir  Peter  King,  General  Stanhope, 
Sir  Thomas  Parker,  and  Mr.  Walpole;  all  gentlemen  whose  talents  were 
degraded  by  so  silly  a  business. 

Dr.  Sacheverel  was  defended  by  Sir  Simon  Harcourt,  Mr.  Phipps,  and 
Drs.  Friend,  Smallridge,  and  Atterbury ;  and  the  trial,  absurd  as  its  origin 
was,  produced  a  display  of  ereat  talent  and  eloquence.  Unfortunately 
the  silly  passion  shown  by  the  house  of  commons  communicated  itself 
to  the  people  out  of  doors.  Most  serious  riots  took  place,  in  which  the 
rabble  in  their  zeal  for  Dr.  Sacheverel  not  only  destroyed  several  dissent- 
•ng  meeting-houses,  but  also  plundered  the  houses  of  several  leading  dis. 
senters,  and  the  disturbances  at  length  grew  so  alarming  that  the  queen 
published  a  proclamation  against  them.  The  magistrates  now  exerted 
themselves  with  some  vigour;  several  ruffians  were  apprehended,  and 
two  convicted  of  high  treason  and  sentenced  to  death,  which  sentence, 
however,  was  commuted. 

WhHe  the  populace  was  rioting  without,  the  lords  were  trying  Sach 
everel.  He  was  very  ably  defended,  and  he  personally  delivered  an  ad« 
dress,  of  which  the  composition  was  so  immeasurably  superior  to  that 
of  his  sermons,  that  it  was  generally  supposed  to  have  been  written  for 
him  by  t)r.  Atterbury,  afterwards  bishop  of  Rochester:  a  man  of  great 
genius,  but  of  a  turn  of  mind  which  fitted  him  rather  for  the  wrangling 
of  the  bar,  than  for  the  mild  teaching  and  other  important  duties  of  the 
Christian  ministry.  A  majority  of  seventeen  votes  condemned  Sach. 
everel,  but  a  protest  was  signed  by  thirty-four  peers.  Partly  in  defer- 
ence to  this  protest  and  partly  from  fear  that  severity  would  cause  dan> 
gerous  renewals  of  the  riotous  conduct  of  Sacheverel's  rabble  friends,  the 
sentence  was  extremely  light,  merely  prohibiting  the  doctor  from  preach- 
ing for  three  years,  and  ordering  his  alledged  libels  to  be  burned  by  the 
common  hangman,  in  presence  of  the  lord  mayor  and  the  two  sheriffs. 

The  warmth  which  the  people  in  general  had  shown  on  behalf  of  the 
doctor  showed  so  extensive  a  prevalence  of  tory  principles,  that  the 
queen's  secret  advisers  of  that  party  thought  that  they  might  now  safely 
recommend  a  dissolution  of  parliament.  The  queen  complied,  and  a 
vast  majority  of  tories  was  returned  to  the  new  parliament.  Thus  con- 
vinced of  the  correctness  with  which  Harley  had  long  assured  her,  that 
she  might  safely  indulge  her  inclination  to  degrade  the  whig  party,  the 
queen  proceeded  accordingly.  She  began  by  making  the  duke  of 
Shrewsbury  lord  chamberlain,  instead  of  the  duke  of  Kent.  Soon  after- 
wards the  earl  of  Sunderland,  son-in-law  to  the  duke  of  Marlborough, 
was  deprived  of  his  office  of  secretary  of  state,  which  was  conferred 
upon  t^ie  earl  of  Dartmouth ;  the  lord  stewardship  was  taken  from  the 
duke  of  Devonshire  and  given  to  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  and  Mr. 
Henry;  St.  John  was  made  secretary  in  lieu  of  Mr.  Boyle.  Still  more 
sweeping  alterations  followed,  until  at  last  no  state  office  was  filled  by  a 
vhig,  with  the  single  exception  of  the  duke  of  Marlborough. 

The  parliament  soon  after  passed  a  resolution  warmly  approving  the 
course  pursued  by  the  queen,  and  exhorting^  her  to  discountenance  and 
resist  all  such  measures  as  those  by  which  her  royal  crown  and  dignity 
bad   recently   been  threatened.     From  all   this  it  was  clear  that  the 

Eower  of  Marlborough,  so  long  supported  by  the  court  intrigues  of 
is  duchess,  was  now  completely  destroyed  by  her  imprudent  hauteur. 
His  avarice  was  well  known,  and  it  was  very  extensively  believed  that 
the  war  with  France  would  long  since  have  been  brought  to  a  conclusion 
if  the  pacific  inclinations  of  the  French  king  had  not  been  constantly  and 
systematically  thwarted  by  the  duke  for  the  furtherance  of  his  own  am- 
bilious  schemes.    And  though  the  tory  ministiy  continued  the  war,  and 


THB  TRKABUBY  01*  HISTORY. 


039 


the  nimnst  entirely  tory  parliament  recommended  that  it  should  be  pro- 
tecuted  with  all  possible  vigour,  the  mortificatioii  and  degradHliuii  of  the 
lately  idolized  duke  were  aimed  at  by  every  possible  means.  Thus  the 
thanks  of  the  house  of  commons  were  refused  to  him  for  his  services  in 
Flanders,  while  they  were  warmly  given  for  those  of  the  earl  of  Peter- 
bcrough  in  Spain,  and  the  lord  keeper  in  delivering  them  took  occasion 
to  contrast  the  generous  nature  of  the  earl  with  the  greed  and  avarice  of 
the  duke. 

As  the  expenses  of  the  war  increased,  so  the  people  grew  more  and 
more  weary  of  their  war  mania.  The  ministry  consequently  now  deter- 
mined  to  take  resolute  steps  for  putting  an  end  to  it ;  and  as  it  was  obvU 
0U8  that  the  duke  would  use  all  the  influence  of  his  command  to  traverse 
their  peaceable  policy,  they  came  to  the  resolution  of  proceeding  against 
him  in  some  one  of  the  many  cases  in  which  he  was  known  to  have  re- 
ceived  bribes.  Clear  evidence  was  brought  forward  of  his  having  received 
liz  thousand  pounds  per  annum  from  a  Jew  for  securing  him  the  con- 
tract to  supply  the  army  with  bread ;  and  upon  this  charge  the  duke  was 
dismissed  from  all  public  employments. 

The  poet  Prior  was  now  sent  on  an  embassy  to  France,  and  he  soon 
returned  with  Menager,  a  French  statesman,  invested  with  full  powers  to 
arrange  the  preliminaries  of  peace ;  the  earl  of  Straflford  was  sent  back 
to  Holland,  whence  he  had  only  lately  been  recalled,  to  communicate  to  the 
Dutch  the  preliminaries  and  the  queen's  approval  of  them,  and  to  endea- 
vour to  induce  the  Dutch,  also,  to  approve  them.  Holland  at  flrst  object- 
ed to  the  inspection  of  the  preliminaries,  but  after  much  exertion  all 
parties  were  induced  to  consent  to  a  conference  at  Utrecht.  It  was 
noon,  however,  perceived  that  all  the  deputies,  save  those  of  England  and 
France,  were  averse  to  peace,  and  it  was  then  determined  by  the  queen's 
government  to  set  on  foot  a  private  negotiation  with  France  with  a  view 
to  a  separate  treaty. 

A.  D.  1712.— Early  in  August.  1712,  Viscount  Bolingbroke,  formerly  Mr. 
St.  John,  was  sent  to  Versailles,  accompanied  by  Prior  and  the  Abbd 
OauUier,  to  make  arrangements  for  the  separate  treaty.  He  was  well 
received  by  the  French  court,  and  very  soon  adjusted  the  terms  of  the 
treaty.  The  interests  of  all  the  powers  of  Europe  were  well  and  im- 
partially cared  for ;  but  the  noblest  article  of  the  treaty  was  that  by 
which  England  insisted  upon  the  liberation  of  the  numerous  French 
protestants  who  were  confined  in  prisons  and  galleys  for  their  religious 
opinions. 

A.  D.  1713. — But  while  the  ministry  was  thus  ably  and  triumphantly 
conducting  the  foreign  afTairti  of  the  nation,  serious  dissensions  were 
growing  up  between  Harley  and  Bolingbroke.  These  able  statesmen 
had  for  a  long  time  been  most  cordial  in  their  agreement  on  all  points  of 
policy.  But  the  daily  increasing  illness  of  the  queen,  and  the  probability, 
not  to  say  certainty,  that  she  would  not  long  survive,  brought  forward 
a  question  upon  which  :hey  widely  differed.  Bolingbroke,  who  had  been 
suspected  of  being  a  fitrong  jacobite,  was  for  bringing  in  the  pretender  as 
the  queeirs  successor  {  while  Harley,  now  Lord  Oxford,  was  as  strongly 
pledged  to  the  Hanoverian  succession. 

The  whigs  watched  with  delight  and  exultation  the  growth  of  the  ill- 
disguised  enmity  between  these  two  great  supports  of  the  tory  party. 
The  queen  in  vain  endeavoured  to  compose  their  diflerences,  and  it  is  to 
be  feared  that  the  sufferings  of  the  last  months  of  her  life  was  much  in- 
creased by  her  anxieties  on  this  account.  She  daily  grow  weaker,  and 
was  not  only  despaired  of  by  her  physicians,  but  was  hersself  conscious 
that  her  illness  would  have  a  fatal  termination. 

A.  D.  1714. — The  queen  at  length  sunk  into  a  state  of  extreme  lethargy, 
but  by  powerful  medicines  was  so  far  recovered  that  she  was  able  to  walk 


631 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTOPY. 


about  her  diambor.  On  the  thirtioth  ofJiilyBhe  rose  as  early  as  eight 
o'clock.  For  some  time  she  walked  about,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of 'ne 
of  her  ladies,  whci:  she  was  sctized  with  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  from  which  no 
medicines  could  relieve  her,  and  she  expired  on  the  following  morning,  jj, 
the  forty-ninth  year  of  her  age  and  the  thirteenth  of  her  reijgn. 

Though  Anne  possessed  no  very  brilliant  talents,  her  reign  was  in  ih; 
main  prosperous  and  wise,  and  was  wholly  free  from  all  approach  to 
tyranny  or  cruelty.  Literature  and  the  arts  flourished  exceedingly  under 
her;  Pope,  Swift,  Addison,  Bolingbrokc,  and  a  perfect  galaxy  of  |(>sj,(,f 
stars,  very  justly  obtain  for  this  reign  the  proud  title  of  the  Augustan  age 
of  England. 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

THE    REION    or    OEOKOB    I. 

A.  D.  1714. — Anne  having  Itft  no  issue,  by  the  act  of  succcBsion  the  Kn. 
glish  crown  devolved  upon  George,  son  of  the  first  elector  of  Brunswick 
and  the  princess  Sophia,  grand-daughter  of  James  I. 

The  new  king  was  now  in  his  fifty-fourth  year,  and  he  bore  the  character 
of  being  a  man  of  solid  ability,  though  entirely  destitute  of  all  shining 
talents,  and  of  even  the  appearance  of  any  attachment  to  literature  ortlie 
arts.  Direct,  tenacious  of  his  purpose,  and  accustomed  all  his  life  to  an. 
plication  to  business,  great  hopes  were  entertained  that  his  accession 
would,  at  the  least,  secure  order  and  regularity  in  the  conduct  of  public 
affairs.  His  own  declaration  was,  "  My  maxim  is  to  do  justice,  to  fear  no 
man,  and  never  to  abandon  my  friends." 

As  it  was  feared  that  the  intriguing  genius  of  Bolingbroke  might  have 
made  some  arrangements  for  an  attempt  on  the  throne  on  the  part  of  the 
pretender,  the  friends  of  George  I.  had  procured  from  him,  as  soon  as  it 
was  tolerably  certain  that  Anne  could  not  survive,  an  instrument  by 
which  the  niost  zealous  and  influential  friends  to  his  succession  were 
added  !o  certain  great  officers,  as  lords  justices,  or  a  commission  of 
regency  to  govern  the  kingdom  until  the  king  should  arrive. 

As  soon  as  the  queen  expired,  the  regency  caused  George  I.  to  be  pro- 
claimed  in  *11  the  usual  places,  the  important  garrison  of  Portsmouth 
was  reinfor  ,ed,  and  measures  were  taken  at  all  the  other  ports  and  garri- 
sons to  deftjat  any  attempts  at  invasion.  The  vigour  and  vigilance  thus 
displayed  prevented  any  outbreak  or  disturbance,  if  any  such  had  ever 
been  actually  contemplated ;  and  the  regency  felt  confident  enough  to 
deprive  Bolingbroke  of  his  office  of  secretary  of  state,  with  every  cir- 
cumstance of  insult.  His  office  was  given  to  the  celebrated  poet  and 
essayist  Addison,  of  whom  a  curious  anecdote  is  related,  very  character- 
istic of  the  immense  difference  between  the  qualities  of  a  scholar  and 
those  of  a  man  of  business.  Mr.  Secretary  Addison,  renowned  as  a 
classical  and  facile  writer,  was  very  naturally  called  upon  to  write  the 
dispatch  to  announce  the  death  of  Queen  Anne  to  her  successor  ;  and  so 
much  was  he  embarrassed  by  his  anxiety  to  find  fitting  terms,  that  his 
fellow-councillors  grew  impatier  ,,  and  called  upon  the  clerk  to  draw  out 
the  dispatch,  which  he  did  in  a  few  dry  business-like  lines,  and  ever  after 
boasted  himself  a  readier  writer  than  the  facile  and  elegant  writer  of  the 
delightful  papers  in  the  Spectator! 

On  landing  at  Greenwich,  George  I.  was  received  by  the  assembled 
members  of  the  regency,  attended  by  the  life-guards  under  the  duke  of 
Northumberland.  He  immediately  retired  to  his  chamber,  where  he  gave 
audience  se  who  had  been  zealous  for  his  succession.    From  this 

moment  the  king  showed  a  determined  partiality  to  the  whigs,  wliicl 


THE  TRKASURY  OP  HWTORY. 


63S 


(rave  ijrciit  and  general  cJingiist ;  a  feeling  that  wa«  ntill  farllirr  incrp;i«nl 
hy  the  lieadloiiff  hiislo  with  which  the  whig  niinistt-rs  and  f.ivouritok 
coiifcrri'd  ail  omces  of  trust  and  (Miinliiinnnt  upon  their  own  pariiziiijn,  in 
utter  conttMnpt  of  the  initritH  and  claims  of  those  whom  they  ouNicd. 

The  K"'"''""'^^  "^  '^*'  whigs,  and  the  pertinarions  partiality  shown  to 
that  party  hy  the  king,  threw  a  groat  part  of  the  nation  into  a  dangfrous 
gliite  of  discontent,  and  there  arose  a  general  ory,  accompanied  by  much 
teadency  to  actual  rioting,  of  "  Sacheverel  for  ever,  and  down  with  the 

wings !" 

Uiideterred  by  the  increasing  number  and  loudness  of  the  malcontents, 
the  whig  party,  confident  in  their  parliamentary  strength  and  in  the  par- 
tiality of  the  king,  commenced  the  business  of  the  session  by  giving  indi- 
cations of  their  intention  to  proceed  to  the  utmost  extremes  against  the 
late  ministers.  In  the  house  of  lords  they  affected  to  believe  that  the  rofv 
utiilion  of  England  was  much  lowered  on  the  continent  by  the  con- 
duct of  the  late  ministers,  and  professed  hopes  that  the  wisdom  of  the 
king  would  repair  that  evil;  and  in  the  lower  house  they  staled  their  de- 
termination to  punish  the  allcdgcd  abettors  of  the  pretender;  a  sure  way 
of  pleasing  the  king,  and  an  artful  mode  of  confounding  together  the  sup- 
porters of  the  pretender,  with  loyal  subjects  of  George  I.  who  yet  were 
honest  enough  to  oppose  so  much  of  his  system  of  government  as  ap- 
peared to  be  injurious  or  dangerous  to  the  country  and  to  himself. 

Following  up  the  course  thus  indicated,  the  ministers  appointed  a  par 
liamentary  committee  of  twenty  persons,  to  examine  papers  and  find 
charges  against  the  late  ministry ;  and  shortly  afterwards  Mr.  Walpole, 
as  chairman  of  this  committee,  stated  that  a  report  was  ready  for  the 
house,  and  moved  for  the  committal  of  Mr.  Matthew  Prior  and  Mr.  Thomas 
Barley ;  and  those  members,  being  present  in  their  places,  were  imme- 
diately taken  into  custody  by  the  sergeant  at  arms.  Mr.  Walpole  tlien 
again  rose  to  impeach  Lord  Bolingbroke  of  high  treason.  Before  the 
house  could  recover  from  its  astonishment,  Lord  Coningsby  rose  and  said, 

"  The  worthy  chairman  of  the  committee  has  impeached  the  hand,  I 
now  impeach  the  head ;  he  has  impeached  the  scholar,  1  impeac.-h  the 
master;  I  impeach  Robert,  earl  of  Oxford  and  Mortimer,  of  high  treason 
and  other  crimes  and  misdemeanors." 

Lord  Oxford  was  now  completely  abandoned  by  nearly  all  those  who 
had  seemed  to  be  so  much  attached  to  him;  a  too  common  fate  of  fallen 
greatness. 

Even  among  the  whigs,  however,  there  were  some  who  disapproved  of 
the  extreme  violence  of  the  present  proceedings.  Sir  Joseph  Jekyl,  for 
instance,  pointing  out  an  overstrained  article  that  was  charged  against 
Oxford,  handsomely  said  that  it  was  his  way  to  mete  out  equal  justice  to 
all  men,  and  that  as  a  lawyer  he  felt  bound  to  say  that  the  article  in 
question  did  not  amount  to  treason.  But  the  heads  of  the  faction  would 
not  patiently  listen  to  such  moderate  and  honourable  language ;  and  Mr. 
Walpole,  in  a  tone  and  with  a  manner  ver^  improper  to  be  used  by  one 
gentleman  towards  another,  replied,  that  many  members  quite  as  honest 
as  Sir  Joseph,  and  better  lawyers  than  he,  were  perfectly  satisfied  that 
the  charge  did  amount  to  treason. 

The  humane  and  honest  opposition  of  Sir  Joseph  Jekyl  being  thus 
sneered  down.  Lord  Coningsby  and  the  other  managing  whigs  proceeded 
to  impeach  Lord  Oxford  at  the  bar  of  the  house  of  lords,  and  to  demand 
that  he  should  immediately  b'^  committed  to  custody.  Upon  this  latter 
point  a  debate  arose  in  the  house  of  lords,  which  was  terminated  by  the 
earl  himself,  who  said  that  he  had  all  along  acted  upon  the  immediate 
orders  of  the  late  queen,  and  that,  having  never  offended  against  any 
kiinwii  law,  he  was  wholly  unconcerned  about  the  life  of  an  insignificant 
oiil  man.    He  was  consequently  committed  to  the  Tower  chough  the 


«.16 


THE  TRBABURY  OF  HISTORY. 


celebrated  Dr.  Mead  poiitively  certiAed  (hat  his  committal  would  endan. 
^«r  hia  life.  The  duke  or  Ormoud  and  IahiI  Boliiigbroke,  against  whotn 
the  proceediiiifs  were  iiu  leaa  vindictively  carried  on,  fled  to  the  continent, 
U|M)ii  which  the  earl  marMhal  or  Knglaiid  was  ordered  to  erase  their  names 
and  ariiiH  from  the  peerage  list,  and  all  their  possessions  in  England  were 
declared  forfeit  to  the  crown. 

A.  D.  1715.— The  pretender,  who  had  numerous  friends  in  England  and 
Scotland,  looked  with  great  complacency  upon  these  violent  proceedings, 
judging  that  the  discontent  they  caused  could  not  fail  to  forward  his 
designx  upon  the  crown;  and  while  the  king  was  intent  upon  alienating 
the  afTections  of  a  large  portion  of  his  people  in  order  to  Nupport  a  greedy 
faction,  an  actual  rebellion  broke  out.  Two  vessels,  with  urmn,  ammu- 
nition, and  officers,  were  sent  from  Franee  to  the  coast  of  Scotland,  and 
the  pretenderpromised  that  he  would  speedily  follow  with  a  greater  force. 
The  earl  of  Mar  was  consequently  induced  to  assemble  his  friends  and 
vassals  to  the  number  of  three  hundred,  and  to  proclaim  the  pretellde^ 
As  the  cause  was  popular,  and  no  opportunity  was  lost  of  magnifying 
the  force  with  which  that  prince  was  to  arrive  in  Scotland,  Mar  suon 
found  himself  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men.  But  while 
he  was  compkstiiig  his  preparations  to  march  southward,  the  duke  of 
Argyle  at  the  head  of  only  about  six  thousand  men  attacked  him  near 
Dumblain,  and  though  at  the  close  of  the  engagement  both  parties  left  the 
fteld,  yet  the  loss  innicled  upon  Mar  was  so  great  as  virtually  to  amount 
to  deleat,  and  the  injury  thus  Gone  to  the  cause  of  the  pretender  was  in- 
creased by  the  conduct  of  Simon,  Lord  Lovat.  That  restless  and 
thoroughly  unprincipled  man  held  the  castle  of  Inverness  for  the  preter< 
der,  to  whose  forces  it  would  at  all  times  have  served  as  a  most  impor- 
tant  point  d'appui ;  but  Lord  Lovat,  changing  with  the  changed  fortune  of 
his  party,  now  basely  surrendered  the  castle  to  the  king. 

The  English  ambassador  in  France,  the  accomplished  and  energetic 
Lord  Stair,  had  so  well  performed  his  duty  to  the  king,  that  he  was  able 
to  send  home  the  most  timely  and  exact  information  of  the  designs  of 
the  pretender;  and  just  as  the  rebellion  was  about  to  break  out  in  Eng- 
land, several  of  the  leading  malcontents  were  seized  by  the  ministry  and 
committed  to  close  custody.  For  one  of  these.  Sir  William  Wyndham, 
his  father-in«law,  the  duke  of  Somerset,  offered  to  become  security ;  but 
even  that  wealthv  and  powerful  nobleman  was  refused.  The  rebelhon 
was  thus  confined,  in  the  west  of  England,  to  a  few  feeble  and  unconnec- 
ted outbreaks ;  and  at  Oxford,  where  it  was  known  that  many  young  men 
of  family  were  among  the  malcontents,  all  attempt  was  prevented  by  the 
spirited  conduct  of  Major-general  Pepper,  who  occupied  the  city  with  his 
troops,  and  positively  promised  to  put  to  death  any  student,  no  matter 
what  his  rank  or  connections,  who  should  dare  to  appear  beyond  the 
limits  of  his  own  college. 

In  the  north  of  England  the  spirits  of  the  malcontents  were  kept  up,  in 
spite  of  all  the  ill  success  that  had  hitherto  attended  their  cause,  by  their 
reliance  upo;i  aid  from  the  pretender  in  person.  The  earl  of  Derwent- 
water  and  Mr.  Foster  raised  a  considerable  force,  and  being  joined  by 
some  volunteers  from  the  Scottish  border,  made  an  attempt  to  seize  New> 
castle,  but  the  gates  were  shut  against  them,  and,  having  no  battering 
train,  they  retired  to  Hexham,  whence,  by  way  of  Kendal  and  Lan- 
caster, they  proceeded  to  Preston.  Here  they  were  surrounded  by  nearly 
eight  thousand  men,  under  generals  Carpenter  and  Wills.  Some  fighting 
ensued,  but  the  cause  of  the  rebels  was  now  so  evidently  hopeless,  thai 
Mr.  Foster  sent  Colonel  Oxburgh,  of  the  royal  army,  who  had  been  taken 
prisoner,  with  proposals  for  a  capitulation.  General  Wills,  however,  de- 
clined to  hear  of  them,  except  as  armed  rebels,  to  whom  he  could  show 
no  other  favour  than  to  leave  them  to  the  disposal  of  gc  vernment,  instead 


'^. 


THE  TRKASURY  Of  HlflTORT.  §gf 

of  giving  them  orer  to  initant  ■InuKhter  by  hit  troopn.  Thit  unhappy 
men  were  coiufqiienlly  obliged  lo  niirrciider  al  diBcrption  ;  ■nmn  of  thfir 
oAcer*  who  had  dcHfrtnd  from  the  royal  army  were  iinmediiit«>ly  ihot, 
(he  other  offltrers  iind  gentlemen  were  orrit  to  London,  and  the  common 
men  thrown  into  the  various  prisonn  of  Lancashire  and  Ohesbirc. 

Had  the  pretender  promptly  Joined  the  earl  of  M^ir,  and,  Joined  by  him, 
inarched  to  efloct  a  Junction  with  the  earl  of  Dcrwentwater,  the  event 
would  probably  have  been  very  different;  but  having  delayed  his  appear- 
ance in  Scotland  until  his  friends  were  thus  overpowered  in  detail,  com- 
mon-sense should  have  dictated  to  him  the  folly  of  his  carrying  his 
ttteinpt  any  farther  for  the  present.  But,  alas  !  common-sense  wan  pre- 
cisely that  quality  which  tho  Stuarts  were  least  gifted  with !  At  the  very 
moment  when  the  prisons  of  England  were  filled  with  his  ill-fated  and 
sacrificed  adherents,  he  hurried  through  France  in  disguise,  embarked  at 
Dunkirk,  and  landed  in  Scotland  with  a  train  of  six  gentlemen !  With 
this  adequate  force  for  the  conquest  of  a  great  and  powerful  kingdom,  he 
proceeded  through  Ab(>rdeen  lo  Fcteresso,  where  he  was  Joine(|  by  the 
earl  of  Mar  and  somewhat  less  than  two-score  other  nobles  and  gentry, 
lie  now  proceeded  to  Dundee,  caused  a  frothy  and  useless  declaration  of 
his  rights  and  intentions  to  be  circulated,  and  then  went  to  Scone  with  the 
intention  of  adding  the  folly  of  being  crowned  there  to  the  folly  of  being 
nroclHimed  in  uU  other  places  of  note  through  which  ho  had  passed, 
kvtn  tlie  vul(jarand  the  ignorant  were  by  this  time  convinced  of  the  utter 
liopelcssiiess  of  his  cause  ;  and  as  he  found  that  "  few  cried  God  bless 
liim,"  and  slill  fewer  joined  his  standard,  he  quite  coolly  told  his  friends — 
wlioliiid  sacrificed  cverytl\iiig  for  liim — that  ho  had  not  the  necessary 
means  fur  a  campaign,  and  then  embarked,  with  his  personal  attendants, 
ai  Monlrtisu  Icavlnjj  his  dupes  to  tlieir  fate.  Such  baseness,  such  boyish 
liviiy,  joined  to  such  cold  seirishncss,  ought  to  have  made  even  those  who 
mt'sl  firmly  believed  in  the  a!i;sti;ici  riiflits  of  the  pretender,  rejoice  that 
he  was  unable  to  obtain  power  in  England ;  since  so  heartless  a  man  must 
needs  have  made  u  cruel  monarch. 

The  jjuveriuncnt  had  acted  with  vigour  and  ability  in  suppressing  the 
reliillion;  it  now  acted  with  stern  unsparing  severity  in  punishiiiir  ttioso 
who  had  been  concerned  in  it.  The  mere  herd  of  rebels,  to  tho  number 
of  inure  llian  a  tliousand,  were  transported  to  tho  colonies.  Two-and- 
twcniy  officeis  were  executed  at  Preston,  and  five  at  Tyburn,  with  all  the 
(lisi^iiStiiig  accompaniiiietits  of  drawing  an.l  quartering.  Tiie  eith  of 
Derwuitwatcr,  Nitliisilalc,  and  Carnw  artli,  and  the  lords  Keninui:,  Nalriie, 
and  WiiMiington  wcio  sentenced  to  death,  as  were  Mr.  Foster,  Mr. 
M.ickinto:<h,  and  about  twenty  other  leading  men. 

Niiliisdalo,  Fusler,  and  Mackintosh  were  fortunate  enough  to  escape 
from  prison  and  reach  tho  co'itinent ;  l>erwentwater  and  Kenmuir  were 
fxc'uted  u|K)n  Tosver-hill,  and  met  tlicir  fate  with  a  decent  intrepidity, 
uliii;ii  made  the  spectators  forget  tii(;ir  crime. 

Duriiiir  all  this  time  tho  earl  of  Oxford  had  remained  in  tho  Towei, 
mniolictit  and  almost  forgotten.  When  the  nuMirTDUs  executions  had 
iiieraiiy  thj^gusted  men  with  tho  sad  spectacle  of  bloodshed  he  petitioned 
u^  be  iillowed  to  lake  lii'4  trial ;  rightly  jud'ring  that,  as  eumpared  lo  actual 
rt'lieliion,  the  worst  that  was  clinrged  against  him  would  seem  compara- 
tively viiiial,  oven  to  his  eiitMoies.  He  was  accordingly  arraigned  Ixifore 
liiepeer.iin  Westmiiistcr-hall.aiid  some  technical  dispute  arising  between 
ilic  lor  is  and  roiniiions,  the  lorus  voted  that  he  should  be  sel  at  liberty. 

A.  D.  1721. — Passing  over,  as  of  no  importance,  tlic  sailing  from  Spain 
(tl  a  tleet  under  the  duke  of  Orntond,  for  the  pmp.jse  of  making  a  new 
nliempt  on  Kiigland  ;  tho  prct'  iidcr's  hopes  froii;  that  expedition  being 
disajipoinlLd  by  a  storm  which  entirely  disabled  the  Peel  olT  Cape  Fiiuh. 


638 


THE  TREASUEY  OP  HISTOaY. 


terre ;  we  come  to  a  domestic  event  which  originated  in  this  year  and 
reduced  thousands  of  people  from  affluence  to  begjjary. 

The  South  Sea  company,  to  which  government  was  greatly  indebted 
was  in  the  habit  of  contenting  itself  with  five  per  cent,  interest,  on  ac^ 
count  of  the  largeness  of  its  claim,  instead  of  six  per  cent.,  which  the 
government  paid  to  all  the  other  public  companies  to  which  it  was  ui 
debted.  A  scrivener,  named  niount,  of  more  ability  than  principle,  availed 
himself  of  this  state  of  things  to  commence  a  deep  and  destructive  part  oJ 
the  scheme.  It  was  quite  obviously  to  the  advantage  of  the  nation  to  pay 
five  rather  than  six  per  cent,  upon  all  its  debts,  as  well  as  upon  the  one 
considerable  debt  that  was  due  to  the  South  Sea  company ;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  was  well  worth  the  while  of  that  wealthy  company  to  add 
as  much  as  possible  to  the  already  large  amount  upon  which  five  percent 
interest  was  punctually  paid  by  the  government.  Blount  put  the  case  sq 
plausibly  on  the  part  of  the  company,  and  so  skilfully  threw  in  the  addi- 
tional inducement  to  the  government  of  a  reduction  of  the  interest  from 
five  to  four  per  cent,  at  the  end  of  six  years,  that  the  scheme  seemed  to 
be  an  actual  reduction  of  one-sixth  of  the  whole  national  burden  immedi- 
ately, and  a  reduction  of  a  third  at  the  end  of  six  years.  Every  encour- 
agement and  sanction  were  consequently  given  to  the  plan  by  wliich  fhe 
South  Sea  company  was  to  buy  up  the  claims  of  all  other  creditors  of  the 
government.  Hitherto  only  the  fair  side  of  the  scheme  had  been  display. 
ed ;  now  came  the  important  question,  where  was  the  South  Sea  com. 
pany,  wealthy  as  it  might  be,  to  find  the  vast  sum  of  money  necessary  for 
rendering  it  the  sole  government  creditor  ?  Blount  was  ready  with  liis 
reply.  By  a  second  part  of  his  scheme  he  proposed  to  enrich  tlie  nation 
enormously  by  opening  up  a  new,  vast,  and  sale  trade  to  the  South  Soas; 
and  flaming  prospectuses  invited  the  public  to  exchange  government  stod 
for  equal  nominal  amounts  in  the  South  Sea  stocks — said  to  be  vastly 
more  valuable.  The  cunning  of  Blount  and  his  fellow-directors  was  so 
well  aided  by  the  cupidity  of  the  public,  that  when  the  books  were  opened 
for  this  notable  transfer  there  was  a  positive  struggle  for  the  precedence; 
a  consequent  run  took  place  for  South  Sea  shares,  which  in  a  few  days 
were  sold  at  more  than  double  their  original  value,  and  ere  the  end  of  the 
delusion,  which  was  kept  up  for  several  months,  the  shares  met  with  a 
ready  sale  at  ten  times  their  original  cost!  Wlien  we  reflect  tliat  a  lliou- 
sand  pounds  thus  produced  ten  thousand  to  the  speculator,  and  a  hundred 
thous:ind  a  million,  we  may  judge  how  much  excitement  and  eagerness 
prevailed.  Enormous  fortunes,  of  course,  were  made  in  the  transfer  and 
re-transfcr  of  shares,  and  to  those  who  sold  out  while  tiie  delusion  was 
still  at  its  height  the  scheme  was  a  very  El  Dorado.  But  the  great  ma- 
jority of  the  supposed  fortunate  possessors  of  South  Sea  stock  were  far 
too  well  pleased  with  their  prospects  to  part  with  them,  as  tiiey  imagined 
it  difficult  to  put  a  sufficient  value  upon  tlieir  probabilities  of  vast  and  ever- 
increasing  interest !  Among  this  number  was  the  poet  Gay,  who,  thoujjh 
a  scholar  and  a  wit,  was,  nevertheless,  in  the  actual  business  of  life,  as 
simple  as  a  child.  He  was  strongly  advised  by  his  friends  to  sell  some 
stock  which  had  been  presented  to  him,  and  thus,  while  the  stock  was  at 
its  highest  value,  secure  himself  a  competence  for  life.  But  no!  like  thou- 
sands more,  he  persisted  in  holding  this  precious  stock ;  and  all  who  did 
so  found  their  scrip  mere  waste  paper  when  tlie  company  was  called  \\\»m] 
to  pay  tlie  very  lirst  vast  and  very  genuine  demand  out  of  profits  whioh 
were  represented  as  being  equally  vast,  but  which  had  tlie  slii^ht  defect  of 
being  wholly  imaginary.  Thousands  upon  thousands  of  families  were 
by  this  a:'lf'.!l  and  most  vile  scheme  reduced  to  complete  ruin,  and  nothing 
that  has  occurred  in  our  own  time — replete  as  it  is  with  l)nl)l)li  s  and 
swindling  directors — is  calcul.iled  to  give  us  any  adequate  idea  (if  the 
Buffering,  the  rage,  and  the  dismay  that  were  felt  in  all  parts  of  the  king- 


THE  TEEASUaY  OF  HISTORY. 


6» 


idebted, 

,  on  ac- 

lich  the 

was  in 

,  availed 

B  part  ol 

•n  to  pay 

.  the  one 

1,  on  tht 

.y  to  add 

per  cent 

I  case  so 

the  addi- 

rest  from 

leemed  to 

I  immedi- 

y  encour- 

which  !hc 

ors  of  the 

n  display- 
Sea  com- 

essary  for 

\f  with  hia 

the  nation 

JUth  Suas; 

neiit  stoeli 

)  be  vastly 

jrs  was  so 

jcre  opened 

•ecedence ; 

few  days 

end  of  the 

net  with  a 
t  a  Ihou- 
hundred 
eagerness 
iisfer  and 
ion  was 
great  nia- 
were  far 
imagined 
t  and  ever- 
10,  thouijh 
of  life,  as 
sell  some 
ock  was  it 
likellum- 
hU  who  did 
ailed  u',"ni 
ofits  which 
U  defect  ol 
iiilios  were 
uid  nothing 
mhlili  s  and 
idea  I'f  the 
f  the  king- 


dom. The  government  did  all  that  it  consistently  could  to  remedy  the 
disastrous  effects  produced  by  individual  knavery  acting  upon  general 
cupidity  and  credulity.  The  chief  managers  of  the  scheme  were  deprived 
of  the  immense  property  they  had  unfairly  acquired  by  it,  and  redresses 
as  far  as  possible  afforded  to  the  sufferers ;  but  in  the  almost  infinite 
variety  of  transfers  which  had  taken  place,  it  inevitably  followed  that  mil- 
lions of  property  passed  from  the  hands  of  those  who  speculated  foolishly 
into  the  hands  of  those  who  were  more  sagacious  and  more  wary,  though 
not  positively  involved  in  the  guilt  of  the  deception ;  and  for  many  years 
thousands  had  to  toil  for  bread  who  but  for  this  scheme  would  have  been 
affluent,  while  thousands  more  enjoyed  wealth  not  a  jot  more  honestly  or 
usefully  earned  than  the  gains  of  the  veriest  gambler. 

So  extensive  were  the  sufferings  and  confusion  created  by  this  event, 
that  the  friends  of  the  pretender  deemed  the  crisis  a  fit  one  at  which  to 
bring  forward  his  pretensions  again.  But,  as  was  usual  with  that  party, 
there  was  so  much  dissension  among  the  leading  malcontents,  and  their 
affairs  were  so  clumsily  condu(;ted  on  the  part  of  some  of  them,  that  the 
ministry  got  intelligence  of  the  designs  which  were  on  foot,  and  suddenly 
ordered  the  apprehension  of  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  the  earl  of  Orrery,  the 
lords  North  and  Grey,  Atlerbury,  bishop  of  Rochester,  Mr.  Layer,  and 
several  other  persons  of  less  note.  In  the  investigation  that  followed, 
sufficient  legal  evidence  could  be  found  only  against  the  bishop  of  Ro- 
chester and  Mr.  Layer,  though  there  could  be  no  moral  doubt  of  the  guilt 
of  the  others.  All,  therefore,  were  disciharged  o'-'.  of  custody  except  the 
bishop,  who  was  banished  the  kingdom,  and  Mr.  L'^yer,  who  was  hanged 
it  Tyburn. 

Scarcely  less  sensation  was  caused  by  an  accusation  which  was  brought 
against  the  earl  of  Macclesfield,  of  having  sold  certain  places  in  chancery 
The  house  of  commons  impeached  him  at  the  bar  of  the  house  of  lords, 
and  a  most  interesting  and  well  contested  trial  ensued,  which  lasted  for 
twenty  days.  The  earl  was  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  be  imprisoned 
until  he  should  pay  a  fine  of  thirty  thousand  pounds.  He  paid  the  money 
in  less  than  two  months ;  and  his  friends  deemed  him  very  hardly  done 
by,  inasmuch  as  it  was  proved  on  ihe  trial  that  he  had  only  sold  such 
places  as  had  been  sold  by  former  chancellors.  To  us,  liowever,  this 
seems  but  a  very  slender  excuse  for  the  offence;  as  a  judge  in  equity  he 
ought  to  have  put  a  slop  to  so  dangerous  a  practice  and  not  have  profited 
by  it,  especially  as  the  honourable  precedent  of  Chancellor  Bacon  was  in 
existence  to  remind  him  that  in  chancery  as  elsewhere,  "  two  blacks  do 
not  make  a  white."  As  to  the  fine,  large  as  the  sum  seems,  it  was  not  at 
all  too  heavy ;  no  small  portion  of  it  having  been  the  produce  of  the  offence 
for  which  it  was  imposed. 

A.  D.  1727. — From  the  very  commencement  of  his  reign  George  I.  had 
slinwnat  least  as  much  anxiety  for  Hanover  as  for  England,  and  having 
now  been  above  two  years  prevented  by  various  causes  from  visiting  the 
eltictorate,  he  appointed  a  regency  and  set  out  for  Hanover  in  a  state  of 
iiealth  that  gave  no  reason  to  fear  any  ill  result.  The  voyage  to  Holland 
and  the  subsequent  journey  to  within  a  few  leagues  of  Osnaburg,  were 
performed  by  the  king  in  his  usual  health  and  spirits,  but  as  he  approached 
Osnaburg  he  suddenly  called  for  the  postillion  to  stop.  It  was  found  that 
one  of  his  hands  was  paralysed,  his  tongue  began  to  swell,  and  no  efforts 
of  the  surgeon  who  traveled  with  him  could  afford  him  any  relief;  and 
on  the  following  morning  he  expired,  in  the  thirtieth  year  of  his  reign  and 
in  the  sixtv-eighth  of  his  age. 


610 


THB  TEBASURY  OF  HISTOBl. 


CHAPTER  LIX. 


THE    REIGN   or   OEOROB 


A.  D.  1727. — George  the  Second,  like  his  deceased  father,  was  a  German 
by  birth,  language,  and  sentiments.  In  their  personal  qualities,  also,  they 
bore  a  striking  resemblance:  both  were  honest,  just,  plain-dealing  men; 
both  were  alike  parsimonious  and  obstinate ;  and  as  both  were  btset  by 
political  factions  whose  rancour  knew  no  bounds,  so  each  of  those  mon. 
archs  had  to  contend  with  the  caprice  or  venality  of  rival  statesmen,  as 
by  turns  they  directed  the  councils  of  the  nation. 

The  king  was  in  the  forty-fourth  year  of  his  age  on  coming  to  the 
throne ;  and  he  took  the  first  opportunity  of  declaring  to  his  parliament 
that  he  was  determined  to  adhere  to  the  policy  of  his  predecessor.  Owing 
to  the  previous  continental  wars  in  which  England  had  taken  a  part,  tiie 
kingdom  was  involved  in  a  labyrinth  of  treaties  and  conventions.  Much 
discontent  was  also  felt  and  expressed  on  many  points  ol  domestic  policy. 
Dangerous  encroachments  had  been  made  in  the  constitution  by  the  repeal 
of  the  triennial  act ;  by  frequent  suspensions  of  the  habeas  corpus  act ;  by 
keeping  up  a  standing  army ;  and  by  the  notorious  venal  practices  em- 
ployed in  establishing  a  system  of  parliamentary  corruption.  At  first 
some  change  in  the  ministry  appeared  in  contemplation ;  but  after  a  little 
time  it  was  settled  that  Sir  Robert  Walpole  should  continue  at  the  head 
of  the  administration ;  with  Lord  Townshend  as  director  of  the  foreign 
affairs  and  Mr.  Pelham,  brother  to  the  duke  of  Newcastle,  as  secretary 
at-war.  There  was,  however,  a  great  and  concentrated  mass  of  opposj. 
tion  gradually  forming  against  Walpole,  which  required  all  his  vigilance 
and  ability  to  overcome. 

Peace  was  established  at  home  and  abroad ;  and  the  new  parliament, 
which  assembled  in  January,  1728,  afforded  no  topic  of  interest ;  but  in 
the  succeeding  year  the  commons  complained  of  the  occasional  publica- 
tion of  their  proceedings,  and  it  was  unanimously  resolved,  "  That  it  is 
an  indignity  to,  and  a  breach  of  the  privilege  of  the  house,  for  any  person 
to  presume  to  give,  in  written  or  printed  newspapers,  any  account  or 
minutes  of  the  debates  or  other  proceedings  of  the  house  or  of  any  com- 
mittee thereof;  and  that,  upon  the  discovery  of  the  author,  &c.,this  house 
will  proceed  against  the  offenders  with  the  utmost  severity."  An  address 
to  his  majesty  was  also  presented  by  the  commons,  complaining  of  serious 
depredations  having  been  committed  by  the  Spaniards  on  British  ships, 
in  manifest  violation  of  the  treaties  subsisting  between  the  two  crowns; 
and  requesting  that  active  measures  might  be  taken  to  procure  reasonable 
latisfaction  for  the  losses  sustained,  and  secure  his  majesty's  subjects  the 
free  exercise  of  commerce  and  navigation  to  and  from  the  British  planta- 
tions  in  America.  This  was  followed  by  a  defensive  treaty  between 
Great  Britain,  France,  Spain,  and  Holland  •  the  question  between  England 
and  Spain  as  to  naval  captures  being  left  to  future  adjudication  by  com- 
missioners. 

A.  D.  17"">. — Some  changes  now  took  place  in  the  ministry.  Lord  Har 
rington  was  made  secretary  of  state,  in  the  room  of  Lord  Townshend,  who 
appears  to  have  interfered  more  with  the  affairs  of  the  nation  than  was 
agreeable  to  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  to  whom  he  was  related  by  marriage. 
The  latter,  it  is  said,  upon  being  asked  the  cause  of  his  difference  with  his 
brother-in-law,  drily  replied,  "As  long  as  the  firm  of  the  house  was 
Townshend  and  Walpole,  all  did  very  well ;  but  when  it  became  Walpole 
and  Townshend,  things  went  wrong  and  a  separation  ensued."  About  the 
name  time  the  duke  of  Dorset  was  appointed  lord  lieutenant  of  Ireland  in 


rHK  THBASUttY  Oil'  HISTORY. 


641 


the  room  of  Tx)rd  Carteret ;  *h°  duke  of  Devonshire,  privy  seal,  and  liord 
Trevor,  president  of  the  cop 

With  the  olessings  of  -j-  England  was  now  enjoying  a  high  degree 
of  prospeiily;  her  trade  wit;  iureign  nations  was  constantly  increasing; 
and  from  iier  Americnn  colonies  the  imports  of  sugar,  rum,  &(;.,  were 
'nost  abundant.  The  whale-fishery  also  on  the  coast  of  New-England, 
New-York,  &c.,  was  highly  productive.  Tlie  most  flattering  accounts 
were  received  from  our  traiis-atlantic  friends ;  and  the  tide  of  emigration 
from  our  shores,  but  more  particularly  from  Ireland,  was  fast  flowing  in 
that  direction. 

A.  1)  1731;. — The  parliamentary  session  was  opened  by  the  king  in  per- 
son, whi\  in  an  elaborate  speech,  complimeniod  llie  country  on  its  politi- 
cal aspecl,  and  dwelt  with  evident  satisfaction  on  tiie  late  continental 
alliances  lie  had  entered  into.     This  was  naturally  followed  by  conafratu- 
latory  addresses  from  both  houses ;  and  the  minister  saw  himself  surrounded 
by  a  phalin.\  of  supporters,  too  numerous  for  the  opposition  to  disturb  his 
equanimity.     But  amid  the  general  prosperity  there  were  some  public 
dcJinqiifi^iss  which  seemed  to  require  the  strong  arm  of  justice  to  umnask 
and  punish.     The  most  glaring  of  these,  perhaps,  was  an  enormous  fraud 
committed  by  certain  parties  who  had  the  management  of  the  funds  be- 
longing to  the  "charitable  corporation."     This  society  had  been  formed 
under  the  [)lausible  pretext  of  lending  money  at  legal  interest  to  the  poor 
and  to  others,  upon  security  of  goods,  in  order  to  screen  them  from  the 
rapacity  of  pawnbrokers.     Their  capital  was  at  first  limited  to  30,000/., 
but  by  licenses  from  the  crown  they  increased  it  to  600,000/.     George 
Robinson,  M.P.  for  Marlow,  the  cashier,  and  John  Thomson,  the  warehouse 
keeper,  had  suddenly  disappeared,  and  it  was  now  discovered  tliat  for  a 
capital  of  500,000/.  effects  to  tiie  amount  of  30,000/.  only  could  be  found, 
the  remainder  having  been  embezzled.    A  petition  to  the  house  of  com- 
mons having  been  referred  to  a  committee,  it  clearly  appeared  that  a  most 
iniquitous  scheme  of  fraud  had  been  systematically  carried  on  by  the 
cashier  and  warehouse-man,  in  concert  with  some  of  the  directors,  for 
embezzling  the  capital  and  cheating  the  proprietors;   on  which  it  was 
resolved,  that  Sir  Robert  Sutton,  with  nine  others,  who  had  been  proved 
guilty  of  many  fraudulent  practices  in  the  management  of  the  charitable 
corporation,  should  make  satisfaction  to  the  poor  sufferers  out  of  their 
estates,  and  be  prevented  from  leaving  the  kingdom. 

In  the  following  year  the  excise,  scheme  was  first  introduced  into  the  house 
of  commons;  and  although  it  was  simply  a  plan  for  converting  the  duties 
on  wine  and  tobacco,  which  had  been  hitherto  duties  of  customs,  into  du- 
ties of  excise,  the  ferment  which  this  proposition  excited  was  almost  un- 
precedented. The  sheriffs  of  London,  accompanied  by  many  of  the  most 
eminent  merchants,  in  two  hundred  carriages,  came  down  to  the  house  to 
present  their  petition  against  the  bill ;  other  petitions  were  also  presented ; 
and  the  minister  finding  tiiat  his  majority  was  small  and  the  opposition 
to  the  measure  so  universal,  determmed  on  withdrawing  it.  The  most 
riotous  rejoicings  followed;  and  if  a  correct  judgment  might  be  formed 
from  outward  appearances,  the  inhabitants  of  London  and  Westminster 
must  have  thought  they  had  obtained  a  deliverance  from  some  great  im- 
pending danger. 

Very  little  occurred  during  the  succeeding  year  worthy  of  remark.  The 
princess  royal  was  married  to  the  prince  of  Orange ;  a  bill  passed  for  the 
naturalization  of  his  royal  highness;  and  the  "happy  pair" left  St.  James' 
for  Rotterdam  on  the  22d  of  April.  Parliament  was  now  dissolved  by 
proclamation.  The  king  had  previously  prorogued  it,  after  thanking  the 
members  for  the  many  signal  proofs  they  had  given  him  for  seven  years 
of  their  duty  and  attachment  to  his  person  and  government ;  and  concluded 
Vol.  I.— 41 


643 


THE  TRBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


with  a  prayer  that  providence  would  direct  his  people  in  the  choice  of  theii 
representatives. 

A.  D.  1735.— When  the  new  parliament  met  in  January  it  was  seen  that 
the  elections  had  made  no  perceptible  change  in  the  composition  of  the 
house ;  the  leaders  of  parties  were  the  same ;  and  nearly  the  same  motions 
amendments,  debates,  and  arguments  were  reproduced.  Indeed,  if  ^e 
except  some  angry  disputes  which  occurred  between  the  ministers  and  the 

ftrince  of  Wales,  relative  to  the  income  allowed  out  of  the  civil  list  to  the 
alter,  scarcely  any  event  worthy  of  remark  took  place  for  a  long  time. 
The  affair  to  which  we  allude  thus  originated.  Motions  having  been  made 
in  each  house  of  parliament  to  address  his  majesty  to  settle  100,000/.  per 
annum  on  the  prince,  it  was  opposed  by  the  ministers  as  an  encroachment 
on  the  prerogative,  an  officious  intermeddling  with  the  king's  family  aff'airs 
and  as  an  effort  to  set  his  majesty  and  the  prince  at  variance.  But  the' 
truth  was,  there  had  long  been  a  serious  misunderstanding  between  these 
royal  personages,  arising  chiefly  from  the  prince  being  at  the  head  of  the 
opposition  party ;  and  now  that  there  seemed  no  chance  of  his  obtaining 
the  income  he  required,  it  was  highly  resented  by  him,  and  caused  an  en- 
tire alienation  between  the  two  courts  of  St.  James's  and  Leicester-house. 
^  Nor  can  it  be  wondered  at  that  the  prince  should  feel  himself  grossly* 
'  slighted,  when  out  of  a  civil  list  of  800,000i.  a  revenue  of  50,000/.  per  an- 
num  only  was  allowed  him ;  although  his  father  when  prince  had  100,000/. 
out  of  a  civil  list  of  700,000/.  The  breach  grew  wider  every  day ;  and  at 
length  so  rancorous  had  these  family  squabbles  become,  that  in  the  last 
illness  of  the  queen,  who  expired  in  November,  1737,  the  prince  was  not 
even  permitted  to  see  her. 

The  growing  prosperity  of  England  during  a  long  peace  was  duly  ap- 
I)reciated  by  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  and  he  neglected  nothing  that  seemed 
likely  to  insure  its  continuance ;  but  the  arbitrary  conduct  pursued  by  the 
Spaniards  on  the  American  coasts,  and  the  interested  clamours  of  some 
English  merchants  engaged  in  a  contraband  trade  with  the  Spanish  colo- 
nies, led  to  a  war  between  the  two  countries,  which  lasted  from  the  year 
1739  to  1748. 

In  order  to  prevent  the  ships  of  any  other  nation  from  trading  with  the 
American  colonies,  the  Spaniards  employed  vessels  called  guarda-costas 
to  watch  and  intercept  them ;  but  instead  of  confining  themselves  to  this, 
their  legitimate  object,  the  captains  of  the  Spanish  guard-ships  frequently 
interfered  with  British  merchants,  who  were  on  their  way  to  other  Amer- 
ican colonies,  and,  under  pretence  of  searching  for  contraband  goods, 
boarded  their  ships,  and  sometimes  treated  the  crews  with  the  greatest 
barbarity.  The  accounts  of  these  indignities  created  a  desire  among  all 
classes  of  his  majesty's  subjects  for  inflicting  on  the  Spaniards  signal  and 
speedy  retribution ;  but  the  pacific  policy  of  the  minister  was  inimical 
to  the  adoption  of  vigorous  measures.  Captain  Jenkins,  the  master  of  a 
Scottish  merchant-snip,  who  was  examined  at  the  bar  of  the  house  of 
commons,  declared  that  he  was  boarded  by  a  guarda-costa,  who,  after  ran- 
sacking his  ship  and  ill-treating  his  crew,  tore  off"  one  of  his  ears,  and 
throwing  it  in  his  face,  told  him  "  to  take  it  to  his  king."  Upon  being  asked 
what  he  thought  when  he  found  himself  in  the  hands  of  such  barbarians, 
Jenkins  replied,  "I  recommended  my  soul  to  God,  and  my  cause  to  my 
country."  These  words,  and  the  display  of  his  ear,  which,  wrapped  up 
in  cotton,  he  always  carried  about  him,  filled  the  house  with  indignation; 
but  it  M  as  not  l.U  more  than  a  twelve-month  afterwards  that  an  order  in 
council  was  issued  for  making  reprisals  on  the  Spaniards. 

A.  D.  1740. — The  war  with  Spain  had  now  commenced,  and  the  most 
strenuous  exertions  were  made  to  put  the  navy  in  the  best  possible  condi. 
tion.  Admiral  Vernon,  with  a  small  force,  captured  the  important  city  of 
Porto  Bello,  oi?  the  American  isthmus.    But  it  appeared  at  the  close  of 


THE  TRBASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


643 


with  the 

la-costas 

s  to  tliis, 

•equeiUly 

|er  Amer- 

id  goods, 
greatest 

Imong  all 

ignal  and 
inimical 
Uer  of  a 
house  of 
I  after  ran- 
|ears,  and 
lingaslted 
irbarians, 
,se  to  my 
rapped  up 
"ignation ; 
order  in 

the  most 
lible  condi- 
lant  city  of 
le  close  of 


the  ypar,  that  the  Spaniards  had  taken  upwards  of  400  English  vessels, 
many  of  them  richly  laden. 

At  this  period  the  violence  of  party  politics  was  displayed  in  all  its  ran- 
cour. Many  changes  took  place  in  the  cabinet;  and  Waipolu,  descrying 
the  coming  storm,  presented  two  of  his  sons  with  valuable  sinecures. 
Soon  after,  Mr.  Sandys  gave  notice  that  he  should  make  a  motion  in  the 
house  of  commons  for  the  dismissal  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole  from  the  king's 
councils  forever.  On  the  appointed  day  the  house  was  crowded  at  an 
early  hour,  and  the  public  were  in  a  state  of  breathless  expectation  to  learn 
the  result.  The  accusations  against  the  minister  were  by  no  means  con- 
fined to  any  particular  misconduct,  but  were  vague  and  indefinite.  The 
very  length  of  Mr.  Walpole's  power,  said  Mr.  Sandys,  was  in  itself  dan- 
gerous ;  to  accuse  him  of  any  specific  crime  was  unnecessary,  the  dissat- 
isfaction of  the  people  being  a  sufficient  cause  for  his  removal !  The  dis- 
cussion was  long  and  animated,  and  the  debate  closed  by  a  powerful  speech 
from  Walpole,  which  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  house ;  and  the  mo- 
tion was  negatived  by  the  large  majority  of  290  against  106.  In  the  lords, 
a  similar  motion  met  with  the  like  result. 

A.  D.  1741. — The  success  which  had  attended  Vernon's  attack  on  Porto 
Bello  induced  the  government  to  send  out  large  armaments  against  the 
Spanish  colonies.  In  conjunction  with  Lord  Cathcart,  who  had  the  com- 
mand of  a  numerous  army,  Vernon  undertook  to  assail  Spanish  America 
on  the  side  of  the  Atlantic,  while  Commodore  Anson  sailed  round  Cape 
Horn  to  ravage  the  coast  of  Chili  and  Peru.  Part  of  these  arrangements 
were  frustrated  owing  to  the  death  of  Lord  Cathcart,  his  successor,  Gen- 
eral Wentworth,  being  an  officer  of  little  experience  and  very  jealous  o/ 
the  admiral's  popularity.  As  might  be  expected  where  such  was  the  case, 
the  expedition  lamentably  failed  of  its  object ;  incapacity  and  dissension 
characterised  their  operations ;  nothing  of  the  sliglitest  importance  was 
effected,  and  they  returned  home  after  more  than  fifteen  thousand  of  the 
troops  and  seamen  had  fallen  victims  to  the  diseases  of  a  tropical  climate. 
Nor  was  the  result  of  the  expedition  under  Anson  calculated  to  retrieve 
these  disasters ;  for  although  he  plundered  the  town  of  Patia,  in  Peru,  and 
captured  several  prizes,  among  which  was  the  Spanish  galleon,  laden  with 
treasure,  that  sailed  annually  from  Acapulco  to  Manilla,  he  encountered 
such  severe  storms,  particularly  in  rounding  Cape  Horn,  that  his  squad- 
ron was  finally  reduced  to  only  one  ship. 

It  is  time  that  we  return  to  the  affairs  of  continental  Europe,  so  far,  at 
least,  as  they  involve  England.  In  October,  1740,  the  emperor  Charles 
VI.,  the  last  male  heir  of  the  house  of  Austria  Hapsburg,  died.  Almost 
all  the  powers  of  Europe  had,  by  the  "pragmatic  sanction,"  guaranteed 
the  possessions  of  Austria  to  the  arch-duchess  Maria  Theresa,  queen  of 
Hungary;  yet  no  power  except  England  was  influenced  by  its  engage- 
ments. Scarcely  had  the  Hungarian  queen  succeeded  her  father,  when 
she  found  herself  surrounded  by  a  host  of  enemies.  But  the  most  power- 
ful and  the  most  wily  of  them  was  Frederic  III.,  king  of  Prussia,  who, 
having  at  his  command  a  rich  treasury  and  a  well-appointed  army,  entered 
Silesia,  and  soon  conquered  it.  Knowing,  however,  that  she  had  not  only 
to  contend  with  France,  who  had  resolved  to  elevate  Charles  Albert,  elec- 
tor of  Bavaria,  to  the  empire,  but  also  numbered  among  her  foes  the  kings 
of  Spain,  Poland,  and  Sardinia,  he  offered  to  support  her  against  all  com- 
petitors, on  the  condition  of  being  permitted  to  retain  his  acquisition. 
This  she  heroically  and  indignantly  refused ;  and,  although  the  French 
troops  even  menaced  her  capital,  Maria  Theresa  convened  the  states  of 
Hungary,  and  made  a  powerful  appeal  to  the  nobles,  which  they  responded 
,0  by  a  solemn  declaration  that  they  were  all  ready  to  die  in  defence  of 
her  rights.  Another  large  army  was  quickly  raised ;  the  English  parlia- 
nent  voted  a  subsidy ;  and  so  great  was  the  attachment  of  the  Engtisb 


544 


THE  TllKASUnV  OF  HISTORY. 


people  to  ^lor  cause,  that  thfi  pacific  Walpole  could  no  longer  control  fho 
desire  that  was  manifested  for  becoming  parties  in  the  war. 

A.  D.  1742. — In  the  new  parliament,  which  was  opened  by  the  king  I'lj 
person,  it  was  evident  that  the  opponents  of  Walpole  had  greatly  strength- 
ened  themselves  ;  and  being  shortly  after  able  to  obtain  a  trifling  majority 
ofvotesonthe  Westminster  election  petition,  Sir  Robert  expressed  his 
intention  of  retiring  from  office.  He  consequently  resigned  all  his  em- 
ployments, and  was  created  earl  of  Orford,  with  a  pension  of  4,000/.  a 
year,  his  majesty  testifying  for  his  faithful  servant  the  most  atfeclionale 
regard. 

England,  accustomed  to  consider  the  equilibrium  of  the  continental 
states  as  the  guarantee  of  her  own  grandeur,  would  naturally  espouse  the 
cause  of  Maria  Theresa:  while  it  was  quite  as  natural  that  the  king  of 
England,  as  elector  of  Hanover,  would  be  ready  to  enforce  its  propriety. 
But  there  was  another  motive  at  this  time  still  more  powerful,  namely, 
the  war  which  had  recently  broken  out  between  England  and  Spain  ;  for 
it  could  not  be  expected  that,  in  a  continental  war  in  which  the  latter  coun- 
try was  one  of  the  belligerents,  England  would  omit  any  opportunity  tliat 
offered  of  weakening  that  power.  Yet  as  long  as  Walpole  was  the  di- 
reeling  minister,  the  king  restricted  himself  to  negotiations  and  subsidies. 
But  when  Walpole  was  superseded  by  Lord  Carteret,  the  cause  of  Maria 
Theresa  was  sustained  by  the  arms  of  England,  and  by  larger  subsidies, 
while  the  king  of  Naples  was  forced  by  an  English  fleet  to  the  declaration 
of  neutrality.  England  had  at  length  become  a  principal  in  tlie  war;  or, 
as  Smollet  observes,  "  from  being  an  umpire  had  now  become  a  party  in 
all  continental  quarrels,  and  instead  of  trimming  the  balance  of  Europe, 
lavished  away  her  blood  and  treasure  in  supporting  the  interest  and  allies 
of  a  puny  electorate  in  the  north  of  Germany." 

A.  D.  1743. — George  H.  was  now  at  the  head  of  the  Anglo-electoral 
army,  which  on  its  march  to  Hanau  met  and  engaged  tlie  French  under 
the  command  of  marshal  the  duke  of  Noailles  and  some  of  the  princes  of 
the  blood.  They  began  the  battle  with  their  accustomed  impetuosity,  but 
were  received  by  the  English  infantry  with  the  characteristic  coolness 
and  steady  intrepidity  for  which  they  are  so  eminently  distinguished.  In 
this  battle  the  king  showed  much  passive  courage,  and  his  son,  the  duke 
of  Cumberland,  was  wounded  ;  but  it  proved  a  decisive  victory,  6,000  of 
the  French  having  fallen,  while  ihe  loss  on  the  side  of  the  British  did  not 
amount  to  more  than  one-third  of  that  number. 

About  this  time  a  treaty  was  concluded  between  England  and  Russia 
for  fifteen  years,  in  which  it  was  stipulated  that  the  empress  should  fur- 
nish his  Britannic  majesty,  as  soon  as  required,  with  a  body  of  12,000 
troops,  to  be  employed  according  to  the  exigency  of  affairs ;  and  that 
Great  Britain  should  furnish  Russia  with  twelve  men-of-war,  on  the  first 
notice,  in  case  either  of  them  were  attacked  by  an  enemy  and  demanded 
such  succour. 

A.  D.  1744. — To  remove  the  Hanoverian  dynasty  from  the  throne  of 
these  realms,  seemed  to  be  the  darling  object  of  the  courts  of  France  and 
^nain,  who  were  secretly  planning  to  restore  the  Stuart  race  in  the  person 
of  the  son  of  the  late  pretender.  Declarations  of  war  between  France 
and  England  accordingly  took  place ;  and  in  May  the  king  of  France  ar- 
rived at  Lisle,  to  open  the  campaign  in  Flanders,  with  an  army  of  120,000 
men,  commanded  by  the  celebrated  Marshal  Saxe.  The  allied  armies, 
consisting  of  English,  Hanoverians,  Austrians,  and  Dutch,  amounting  in 
*he  whole  to  about  75,000,  advanced  with  the  apparent  intention  of  attack- 
Jig  the  enemy;  but,  after  performing  numerous  inconsistent  and  inexpli- 
cable movements,  without  ris^king  either  a  siege  or  a  battle,  the  summer 
massed  away,  and  they  retired  into  winter-quarters.    Meantime  some  in 


THE  TRBASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


645 


decisive  engagements  had  taken  place  between  the  Knglishand  combined 
fleets  ill  the  Mediterranean. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  Lord  Carteret,  now  earl  of  Oranville, 
resigned  his  oCice,  aiid  a  coalition  of  parties  was  lormed,  which,  from  in- 
cluding lories,  wliigs,  and  patriots,  obtamed  ihe  name  of  the  "  broad  bot- 
tom" admniistration.  Mr.  Pelham  was  chancellor  of  the  exchequer  and 
first  lord  of  the  treasury  ;  Lord  Hardwicke,  chancellor;  the  duke  of  Dor- 
Bet,  president  of  the  council;  the  dr.ke  of  Newcastle  and  Lord  Harrington, 
secH'taries  of  state;  and  the  duke  of  Bedford,  first  lord  of  the  admirality. 
Mr.  Piit,  afterwards  earl  of  Chatham,  gave  them  his  support,  having  been 
promised  a  place  as  soon  as  the  king's  aversion  could  be  overcome. 

A.  D.  1745. — Robert  Walpole,  earl  of  Orford,  after  a  life  of  political  ac- 
tivity, during  which  he  had  occupied  the  most  prominent  station  for 
twenty  years,  died  March  18,  aged  71.  His  general  policy  was  princi- 
pally cliaracterized  by  zeal  in  favour  of  the  protestant  succession  ;  by  the 
desu-e  of  preserving  peace  abroad,  and  avoiding  subjects  of  contention  at 
home.  Under  his  auspices  the  naval  superiority  of  F  .f^iand  was  main- 
tained ;  commerce  encouraged;  justice  impartially  administered  ;  and  the 
riglits  of  tiie  people  preserved  inviolate 

°In  Italy  the  united  armies  of  France  and  Spain,  owing  to  their  vast 
superiority  in  numbers,  were  enabled  to  vanquish  the  Ausirians  ;  and  the 
Aiigio-electoral  troops  in  the  Netherlands  also  met  with  serious  reverses. 
The  French  army  under  Marshal  Saxe  was  stroygly  posted  at  Fontenoy ; 
to  which  place  the  duke  of  Cumberland  advanced  on  the  30ih  of  April,  and 
by  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  troops  were  engaged.  The  valour  of  the 
British  infantry  was  never  more  signally  displayed  ;  for  a  time  they  bore 
down  everything  before  them  ;  but  the  Dutch  failing  in  their  attempt  on 
the  village  of  Fontenoy,  and  the  allies  coming  within  the  destructive  fire 
of  the  semicircle  of  butteries  erected  by  Saxe,  were  outflanked  and  com- 
pelled to  retreat.  The  loss  on  each  side  amounted  to  about  10,000  men; 
but  though  the  victory  was  not  absolutely  decisive,  it  enabled  the  French 
marshal  to  take  some  of  the  most  considerable  towns  of  the  Netherlands, 
and  the  allies  retired  for  safety  behind  the  canal  at  Antwerp. 

Thirty  years  had  elapsed  since  the  chevalier  de  St.  George  had  stirred 
up  that  rebellion  which  had  ended  so  fatally  for  his  own  hopes,  and  so 
disastrously  for  his  adherents.  Since  tliat  time  he  had  lived  in  Italy,  had 
married  a  grand-daughter  of  John  Sobieski,  king  of  Poland,  and  had  one 
son,  Charles  Edward,  who  was  afterwards  known  in  England  as  the 
"young  pretender."  While  George  II.  and  his  ministers  were  fully  occu- 
pied in  endeavoring  to  bring  the  war  in  Germany  to  a  successful  issue, 
Charles  Edward  received  every  encouragement  from  Louis  of  France  to 
take  advantage  of  that  opportunity,  and  try  his  strength  in  Britain.  And 
now  that  the  national  discontent  was  gaining  ground  in  consequence  of 
the  loss  at  Fontenoy,  and  other  events  not  much  less  disastrous,  he  de- 
termined to  attempt  the  restoration  of  his  family;  and  accompanied  only 
by  a  small  party  of  his  most  devoted  friends,  he  landed  in  the  Hebrides. 
Here  he  was  soon  joined  by  the  Highland  chieftains,  and  speedily  found 
himself  at  the  head  of  several  thousand  hardy  mountaineers,  who  were 
highly  pleased  with  his  affable  manners,  and  with  genuine  enthusiasm  ex- 
oresscd  themselves  ready  to  die  in  his  service.  Their  first  movement  was 
towards  Edinburgh,  which  city  surrendered  without  resistance,  but  the 
castle  still  held  out.  The  young  pretender  now  took  possession  of  Holy- 
rood  palace,  where  he  proclaimed  his  father  king  of  Great  Britain,  and 
himself  regent,  with  all  the  idle  pageantries  of  state.  Meanw''..iie  a  pro- 
clamation was  issued,  offering  a  reward  of  30,000/.  for  his  apprehension. 
Sir  John  ("ope,  the  commander  of  the  king's  troops  in  Scotland,  having 
collected  some  reinforcements  in  the  north,  proceeded  from  Aberdeen  to 
Punbar  by  sea,  and  hearing  that  the  insurgents  were  resolved  to  hazard  a 


646 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


battle,  he  encamped  at  Preston  Pans.  Here  he  was  unexpectedly  attack- 
ed, and  with  such  vigorous  onslaught,  by  the  fierce  and  undisciplnu!!! 
Highlanders,  that  a  sudden  panic  seized  the  royal  troops,  and  in  their 
flight  they  abandoned  all  their  baggage,  cannon,  and  camp  equipage,  to 
their  enemies.  Klated  with  success,  the  rebels  entered  England,  and  pro. 
ceeded  as  far  as  Derby,  without  encountering  any  opposition.  Here, 
however,  they  learned  that  the  duke  of  Cumberland  had  arrived  from  the 
continent,  and  was  making  preparations  to  oppose  them  with  an  over 
whelming  force ;  and  it  was  therefore  finally  determined,  that  as  they 
could  neither  raise  recruits  in  EIngland,  nor  force  their  way  into  Wales, 
they  should  hasten  their  return  to  Scotland. 

The  pretender  had  good  reason  to  believe  that  important  succours  would 
be  sent  to  him  from  France,  or  it  is  not  likely  he  would  have  crossed  the 
border.  But  the  vigilance  of  Admiral  Vernon  prevented  the  French  fleet 
from  venturing  out ;  and  thus  all  hope  of  foreign  assistance  was  cut  off. 
The  forces  of  the  pretender  were  greatly  augmented  on  his  return  to 
Scotland ;  hut  finding  that  Edinburgh  was  in  possession  of  the  king's 
troops,  he  bent  his  course  towards  Stirling,  which  town  he  captured,  arid 
besieged  the  castle.  Matters  had  now  assumed  a  very  serious  aspect, 
and  public  credit  was  most  seriously  aflected  ;  but  there  was  no  lack  of 
energy  in  the  government,  nor  any  want  of  patriotism  among  the  nobility, 
merchants  or  traders  of  England;  all  ranks,  in  fact,  united  with  ready 
zeal  in  meeting  the  exigency  of  the  occasion.  IWany  new  regiments  wore 
raised  by  wealthy  and  patriotic  individuals  ;  and  it  was  found  that  by  ihe 
voluntary  exertions  of  the  people  60,000  troops  could  be  added  to  the  kina'g 
forces. 

A.  D.  1746. — In  .January  General  Hawley  had  suffered  a  complete  defeat 
in  endeavoring  to  raise  the  siege  of  Stirling.  But  a  day  of  terrible  retri- 
bution was  at  hand.  On  the  IGth  of  April  the  royal  army,  under  the  com- 
mand  of  the  duke  of  Cumberland,  encountered  the  troops  of  the  pretender 
on  CuUoden-moor.  The  Highlanders  began  the  attack  in  their  wild,  furi. 
ous  way,  rushing  on  the  royal  troops  with  their  broadswords  and  Locha- 
bar  axes ;  but  the  English,  being  now  prepared  for  this  mode  of  attack,  re< 
ceived  them  with  fixed  bayonets,  keeping  up  a  steady  and  well-sustained 
fire  of  musketry,  while  the  destruction  of  their  ranks  was  completed  by 
discharges  of  artillery.  In  thirty  minutes  the  battle  was  converted  into  a 
rout;  and  orders  having  been  issued  to  give  no  quarter,  vast  numbers 
were  slain  in  the  pursuit.  The  loss  of  the  rebels  was  estimated  at  about 
4,000,  while  the  number  of  killed  in  the  royal  army  is  said  to  have  scarcely 
exceeded  fifty  men!  Intoxicated,  as  it  were,  with  their  unexampled  vic- 
tory, the  conquerors  seemed  only  bent  on  merciless  vengeance,  and  the 
whole  country  around  became  a  scene  of  cruelty  and  desolation.  As  to 
the  unfortunate  prince  Charles  Edward,  he  escaped  with  difficulty  from 
the  battle,  and  after  wandering  alone  in  the  mountains  for  several  months, 
in  various  disguises,  he  found  means  to  make  his  escape  to  France. 

"One  great  cause  of  the  pretender's  preservation,  was  the  belief  that  he 
had  been  slain,  which  arose  from  the  following  circumstance.  Among 
his  friends,  who  followed  as  much  as  possible  in  his  track,  a  party  was 
surprised  in  a  hut  on  the  side  of  the  Benalder  mountain,  by  the  soldiers 
who  were  in  search  of  him.  Having  seized  them,  one  named  Mackenzie 
effected  his  escape;  upon  which  his  companions  told  the  soldiers  that  it 
was  the  prince  ;  the  soldiers  thereupon  fled  in  pursuit  and  overtook  the 

J'outh,  who,  when  he  found  their  error,  resolved  to  sacrifice  his  life,  in  the 
lOpe  it  might  save  his  master's.  He  bravely  contended  with  them,  re- 
fused quarter,  and  died  with  his  sword  in  his  hand,  exclaimin<r.  a^  lie  fell 
"  You  have  killed  your  prince."  And  this  declaration  was  believed  by 
many.  "  We  cannot,  however,"  says  the  biographer  of  the  events  pi 
Culloden,  "  without  pride,  mention  the  astonishing^  fact,  that  though  tha 


THB  TaSASURY  OF  HISTOUY. 


fl47 


mm  or  thirty  thousand  pounds  sterling  was  long  publicly  ofTered  Tor  his 
apprehension,  and  though  he  passed  through  very  many  hamrs,  and  both 
the  reward  and  his  person  were  perfectly  well  known  to  an  intelligent  and  ' 
rery  inquisitive  people,  yet  no  man  or  woman  was  to  be  found  capable  of 
degrading  themselves  to  earning  so  vast  a  reward  by  betraying  a  fugitive, 
whom  misfortune  had  thrown  upon  their  generosity."  At  length,  on  the 
lOth  of  iSeptember,  the  voung  pretender  embarked  with  twenty-five  gen- 
tlemen ana  one  hundred  and  seven  common  men,  in  a  French  vessel,  sent 
for  that  purpose  to  the  coast ;  and  after  a  passage  of  ten  days  he  arrived 
at  Roseau,  near  Morlaix,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  Paris,  where  he 
was  kindly  received  by  Louis  XV.  Hut  his  hopes  were  forever  fled.  The 
courage  and  fortitude  he  displayed  in  Scotland  seem  to  have  forsaken  him 
with  a  reverse  of  fortune,  and  during  the  remainder  of  his  days  no  trace 
of  ambition  marked  his  actions. 

The  duke  of  Cumberland  had  now  become  the  idol  of  the  nation  ;  and 
for  his  bravery  at  CuUoden  the  parliament  voted  jC25,000  per  annum  in 
addition  to  his  former  income.  Several  acts  were  passed  for  protecting 
the  government  of  Scotland,  and  securing  its  loyalty ;  and  many  execu- 
tions of  the  rebels  took  place  in  different  parts  of  the  kingdom.  Bills  of 
indictment  for  high  treason  were  found  against  the  earls  of  Kilmarnock 
and  Cromartie,  and  Lord  Balinerino,  who  were  tried  in  Westminster-hall. 
All  three  pleaded  guilty ;  Kilmarnock  and  Balinerino  were  executed  on 
Tower-hill,  but  Cromartie's  life  was  spared.  Foremost  among  those  who 
had  engaged  to  venture  their  lives  and  fortunes  in  restoring  the  Stuart 
family  to  the  throne  of  England  was  Lord  Lovat,  a  man  whose  character 
was  branded  with  many  vices,  and  whose  great  age  (for  he  was  in  his  90tii 
year)  had  not  deterred  him  from  taking  an  active  par,t  in  fomenting  and 
encouraging  the  late  rebellion.  Being  found  guilty  by  his  peers,  he  -.vas 
remanded  to  the  Tower,  where,  in  a  few  months  afterwards,  he  was  be- 
headed. At  this  last  scene  of  his  life  he  behaved  with  great  propriety : 
his  behaviour  was  dignified  and  composed ;  he  surveyed  the  assembled 
multitude  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  and  taking  up  the  axe  to  examine 
it,  he  repeated  from  Horace, 

"Dulce  et  decorum  est  pro  patria  moril" 

then  laying  his  head  on  the  block,  it  was  severed  from  his  body  at  a  smgle 
stroke. 

A.  D.  1747. — We  must  now  briefly  allude  to  the  state  of  affairs  on  the 
continent.  Early  in  the  spring  the  duke  of  Cumberland  led  his  troops 
thither,  to  join  our  Austrian  and  Dutch  allies.  The  French  had  a  decided 
advantage  in  point  of  numbers,  and  Marshal  Saxe,  their  commander,  com- 
menced the  campaign  with  the  invasion  of  Dutch  Brabant.  But,  with  the 
exception  of  the  siege  of  Bergen-op-Zoom,  by  the  French,  the  war  was 
languidly  carried  on.  This  celebrated  siege,  however,  lasted  from  the 
16lh  of  July  to  the  1.5th  of  September,  and  presented  a  continued  scene  of 
horror  and  destruction ;  but  though  the  town  was  burned,  the  garrison  had 
suffered  little,  while  heaps  of  slain  were  formed  of  the  besiegers.  The 
governor,  calculating  from  these  circumstances  on  the  impregnability  of 
the  fortress,  was  lulled  into  false  security ;  while  the  French  troops  threw 
tliemselves  into  the  fosse,  mounted  the  breaches,  and  entered  the  garrison* 
end  thus  became  masters  of  the  navigation  of  the  Scheldt.  In  Italy, 
the  allies,  though  forced  to  raise  the  siege  of  Genoa,  were  generally  suc- 
cessful. 

At  sea  the  English  well  maintained  their  superiority.  In  an  engage^ 
ment  with  the  French  off  Cape  Finisterre,  the  English  were  victorious; 
and  several  richly  laden  ships,  both  outward  and  homeward  bound,  fell 
into  their  hands.  Admiral  Hawke,  also,  defeated  the  French  fleet,  off 
Belleislo,  and  took  six  sail  of  the  line. 


648 


THE  TRBABURY  OP  HISTORY. 


In  November  a  new  parliament  nssemhlnd,  and  the  ministers  dcrivco 

much  popularity  on  accouiii  of  the  suppresMion  of  the  lato  robe ilion,  aa 

well  as  for  the  naval  successes.     All  parties,  however,  were  iir«rl  of  tlm 

war,  and  preparations  were  made  for  opcninu  a  congress  at  Aix  la-dJiapcllo 

preliminary  to  a  general  peace;  but  as  the  issue  of  it  was  uncertain,  tho 

usual  grants  and  subsidies  were  rea<lily  voted  without  inquiry.     Th()ii;,rij 

BO  long  since  began,  it  was  not  till  October  in  the  following  year  tliiit  tlnH 

treaty  of  peace  was  concluded.    The  chief  parlies  to  it  were  Britain,  Hoi. 

land,  and  Austria  on  one  side,  and  France  and  Spain  on  the  other.     Hy  jt 

all  the  great  treaties  from  that  of  Westphalia  m   1648,  to  that  of  Vieiiini  ji, 

1738,  were  renewed  and  confirmed.     France  surrendered  her  conquests  jn 

Flanders,  and  the  Knglisli  in  the  East  and  Wbst  Indies.     But  the  right  of 

British  subjects  to  navigate  the  American  seas  without  being  subject  to 

eearcfi  by  the  Spaniards,  was  suffered  to  pass  unnoticed,  although  that  w;is 

the  original  bone  of  contention  and  the  basis  of  the  attacks  made  on  Wiil- 

pole's  ministry.     The  only  advantage,  indeed,  that  England  gained,  w;is 

the  recognition  of  the  Hanoverian  succession,  and  the  general  abinilon- 

ment  of  the  pretender,  whose  cause  was  from  thenceforth  regaicied  ng 

hopeless. 

A.  D.  1749. — The  war  being  at  an  end,  the  disbanding  of  the  army  nat- 
urally followed,  and,  as  auist  ever  in  some  degree  be  the  case  at  such  u 
time,  the  idle  and  unemployed  committed  many  depredations  on  tlm 
public.  To  remedy  this,  a  colony  was  established  in  Nova-Scotia,  when; 
Lord  Halifax  went  out  as  governor,  and  laid  the  foundation  of  a  town, 
which,  in  compliment  to  its  projector,  the  earl  of  Halifax,  was  iiaincd 
after  him.  It  was  soon  found  that  the  soil  of  Nova-Scotia  was  incapable 
of  repaying  the  labourer  for  his  toil,  and  many  who  had  been  transported 
there  obtamed  leave  to  go  to  more  southern  latitudes.  Those  who  re- 
inained  excited  the  jealousy  of  the  native  Indians,  who  still  resided  on  the 
borders  of  this  barren  spot;  and  the  French,  who  were  the  first  Eiiroppim 
settlers  there,  encouraged  this  jealous  feeling.  Meantime  the  animosity 
between  the  F]nglish  and  French  grew  stronger,  till  at  length  the  latter 
claimed  the  whole  territory  between  the  Mississippi  and  New-Mexico  on 
the  east,  and  to  the  Apalachian  mountains,  on  the  west.  From  the  fact 
of  their  having  been  the  first  to  discover  that  river,  they  took  from  the 
English,  who  had  settled  beyond  those  mountains,  their  possessions,  mid 
erected  forts  to  protect  all  the  adjacent  country. 

A.  D.  1751. — The  first  event  of  any  importance  this  year  was  the  death 
of  Frederic,  prince  of  Wales,  which  happened  on  the  10th  of  March,  in 
the  45th  year  of  his  age.  His  death  was  caused  by  an  abscess  in  his  side, 
that  formed  from  the  blow  of  a  cricket-ball  which  he  received  while  play- 
ing at  that  game  on  the  lawn  of  Cliefden-house,  Bucks,  a  collection  of 
matter  having  been  produced  that  burst  in  his  throat  and  suffocated  him. 
The  prince  had  long  been  on  bad  terms  with  his  father,  whose  measures 
he  uniformly  opposed ;  and  though  the  anti-ministerial  party,  and  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  the  people  spoke  highly  of  his  benevolence  and  mu- 
nificence, and  loudly  applauded  his  conduct  at  the  time,  it  is  clear  that 
much  of  his  patriotism  originated  in  a  vain  desire  for  popularity.  He  left 
five  sons  and  three  daughters  ;  his  eldest  son,  George,  being  only  eleven 
years  old:  a  regency  was  consequently  appointed;  but  the  king  surviving 
till  the  prince  attained  his  majority,  there  was  never  anv  occasion  for  it 
to  act. 

The  most  memorable  act  passed  in  the  course  of  this  session  was  that 
for  regulating  the  commencement  of  the  year,  and  correcting  the  calendar 
according  to  the  Gregorian  computation.  The  New  Style,  as  it  was 
termed,  was  introduced  by  Pope  Gregory  XIIl.  in  the  16th  century,  and 
had  long  been  adopted  by  most  states  on  the  continent.  By  this  art, 
therefore,  it  was  provided  that  the  year  should  begin  on  the  lat  day  oi 


THB  TRBASUaY  OF  HiaTOaY. 


649 


Faniiary,  instead  of,  nH  hcretofop',  on  the  sr)!!)  djiy  of  M;irrli,  run!  ihat 
clcVfii  inlt-TiiKHliiilK  iioniiii.il  ilays  bctwi'«'n  llit;  '.M  .iiul  lllli  nf  Sciitdml-cr, 
175.>,  !<liuiil(l  b«!  oinittt'il ;  tlit*  Julian  coinpiitatiiiii,  HU|i[)<isiiig  ^  Hoiar  ri'v«i> 
lutitin  l<>  I'f  I'riTecti'il  in  the  |)rfciH('  period  of  .'Jti.i  ilayn  ami  six  liouis,  liav- 
jiijr  iiiude  no  provision  for  tlm  (Icticiciicy  of  cU'voii  inimitt.'!*,  wlucli,  liow- 
t'vur,  in  tlio  lipse  of  eiglitfen  cniUiries  a-niiuiiU'ii  lo  u  (liirtrciice  of  clc-vun 
(lays-  Hills  worn  also  passed  for  llu;  belter  nreventioii  of  rol)i)erles,  for 
tlio  regulation  of  phices  of  aniuseuieiit,  and  For  punisliiiior  the  keepers  of 
dibordiirly  liousus  ;  the  necessity  of  this  arisiii^r  from  the  spirit  of  cxlravii- 
gance  which  prevailed  throuyhoul  tliu  kingdom,  as  dissipation  and  uinuse- 
ineiil  occupied  every  class  of  society. 

Among  the  domestic  events  of  this  year  no  one  created  more  sensation 
than  the  death  of  Henry  St.  .lohii,  Viscount  Holinghroke  ;  a  nobleman 
wlioliad  for  half  a  century  occupied  a  high  station  in  tlu!  country,  whether 
we  regard  him  in  the  charai^ter  of  a  staiesinan,  an  orator,  an  author,  or  a 
polished  courtier,  lie  |)ossessed  great  energy  and  decision  of  character, 
but  he  was  deficient  in  that  high  principle  and  siiiglciuiss  of  purpose  that 
inspires  confidence  and  leads  to  uiuiuestioiied  oxcelleni!*). 

The  new  parliament  was  opened  on  the  lOlh  of  May,  1753 ;  and  the 
first  business  of  the  house  was  to  take  into  consideration  the  slate  of  Ire- 
land, which,  in  proportion  as  it  advanced  in  civilization,  showed  a  disposi- 
tion to  shake  t)ff  its  dependence  on  Kngland.  The  kingdom  was  in  a  state 
of  traiiqnill'ly  at  the  session  which  terminated  the  labours  of  the  last  par- 
liament ;  but,  previous  to  the  new  election,  the  death  of  Mr.  Felhani 
caused  several  changes  in  the  government  ofiices ;  the  hite  minister  was 
succeeded  in  the  treasury  by  his  broiher,  the  duke  of  Newcastle;  and 
uaiiniiniiy  now  prevailed  in  the  cabinet. 

j^.  D.  1755. — We  have  before  alluded  to  the  animosity  which  existed 
between  llie  English  and  French  relative  to  tl.ir  North  American  posses- 
sions. Hostilities  were  now  commenced  by  the  colonial  authorities, 
without  the  formality  of  a  declaration  of  war.  A  French  detachment  un- 
der Dieskau  was  defeated  with  great  loss  by  the  British,  commanded  by 
Gen.  Lyman  and  Col.  Williams.  The  North  American  Indians  were  stini* 
ulated  to  attack  the  British  colonists,  and  supplies  of  arms  and  ammunition 
were  imported  from  France.  The  British  ministers  immediately  prepared 
for  hostilities  ;  all  the  French  forts  within  the  limits  of  Nova-Scotia  were 
reduced  by  Colonel  Monckton;  but  an  expedition  against  the  French 
forts  on  the  Ohio,  commanded  by  General  Braddock,  mot  with  a  severe 
defeat ;  the  general  falling  into  an  ambuscade  of  French  and  Indians,  was 
slain,  and  the  regular  soldiers  fled  with  disgraceful  precipitation.  The 
provincial  militia,  however,  led  by  Colonel  Washington,  displayed  good 
courage,  nobly  maintaining  their  ground,  and  covering  the  retreat  of  the 
main  army.  The  loss  of  the  English  on  this  occasion  was  very  severe; 
upwards  of  700  men,  with  several  officers,  were  slain ;  the  artillery,  stores, 
and  provisions  became  the  property  of  the  victors,  as  well  as  the  general's 
cabinet,  containing  his  private  instructions,  &c.,  of  which  the  enemy 
availed  himself  to  great  advantage.  Two  otlier  expeditions,  destined  for 
llie  attack  of  Crown  Point  and  Fort  Niagara,  also  failed.  But  the  repri- 
sals at  sea  more  than  compensated  for  these  misfortunes,  as  upwards  of 
three  hundred  merchant  ships  and  eight  thousand  seamen  were  captured 
that  year  by  British  cruisers. 

A.  n.  1756. — Notwithstanding  hostilities  had  been  carried  on  nearly  a 
iwe'/vemonth,  war  was  not  formally  declared  till  May  18:  the  chief  sub- 
,ent  of  complaint  being  the  encroachments  of  the  French  on  the  Ohio 
and  Nova-Scotia.  This  was  followed  by  threats  of  invasion  upon  Kng- 
jand  or  Ireland,  in  conseijuence  of  which  a  body  of  Hessian  and  Han- 
overian troops  was  introduced  to  defend  the  interior  of  the  kingdom  ;  a 
measurp  wliich   gave  rise  to  considerable  discontent,  as  most  peoulo 


THE  TRBASllllY  UF  lllHT(tflY. 


tliuu((lit  tliiit  the  ordinary  furcn  of  eilhor  country  wnn  iufn<-irjnt  to  rrpe] 
inva-SKin.  liut  whilst  the  Kovt-rnniiMit  wus  |iri>vi(lui|{  for  itit  inti^riiiil 
security,  tho  ifncniy  wait  making  HcriouH  uttoinptH  tu  wrfxt  rruni  um  our 
DonHCHMiuns  both  in  the  Kaitt  and  WcHt  Indit-s.  The  riMlnction  o| 
Minorca  was  a  I'avourito  ohjcct  of  the  French  |{ov(;rnnienl;  a  fonnidalilo 
force  wiiN  landed  on  the  ihiand,  and  iiIomc  Hit't{c  laid  to  Fort  St.  IMuhp, 
which  commands  the  principal  town  and  harbour.  The  govcrmir,  (ica- 
oral  iJlakeney,  made  u  lont;  and  ublu  defence;  but  A(hniral  Hyng,  who 
had  been  entrusted  with  the  charge  of  the  Kngiinh  tlettt  in  the  Mediterra- 
nean, and  was  ordered  to  ittcmpt  the  relief  of  the  place,  seems  to  have 
been  destitute  of  any  decisive  plan;  and,  after  avoiding  an  action  with  a 
French  squadron,  ho  returned  to  Ciibraltar,  abandoning  Minorca  to  its 
fate,  which,  to  the  infinite  chagrin  of  the  nation,  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  enemy. 

The  surrender  of  Minorca  was  an  unexpected  blow,  and  the  rave  of  the 
people  at  its  loss  was  directed  against  the  unfortunate  liyng,  who  hrina 
tried  by  a  court-martial  at  Portsmouth,  was  condemned  to  death  for  nut 
doing  his  ii'most  tu  engage  the  enemy,  but  recommended  to  the  mercy 
of  the  crown,  as  it  diu  not  appear  to  the  court  that  it  was  through 
cowardice  or  diNatfection.  (Jrreat  exertions  were  made  to  save  tlie  a(hiii. 
ral's  life,  but  in  vain;  he  was  ordered  to  be  shot  on  board  the  Monanjue, 
and  he  met  hin  fate  with  coolness  and  intrepidity. 

In  America  a  second  series  of  expeditions  against  the  French  forts 
signally  failed;  while  the  marquis  dc  Montcalm,  the  governor  of  Canada, 
captured  (Jswcgo,  where  the  Uritish  had  deposited  the  greater  part  of 
their  artillery  and  military  stores.  Out  it  is  time  that  we  call  the  reader's 
attention  to  the  progress  of  affairs  in  our  Eastern  possessions. 

A.  D.  1757. — The  Jealousy  which  had  been  created  among  the  petty  in- 
c'ependent  princes  of  India,  by  the  privileges  which  the  emperor  of  Delhi 
had  granted  to  the  English  settlers  at  Calcutta,  had  risen  to  an  alarming 
height;  but  successful  means  had  been  Ubed  to  allay  their  fury  until  the 
accession  of  the  ferocious  Suraja  Dowla,  souhbadar  of  Bsngal,  who  was 
enraged  at  the  shelter  which  the  English  afforded  to  some  of  his  destined 
victims.  He  advanced  towards  Cah  n't  >,  when  the  governor  and  most  ol 
the  local  authorities,  panic-stricken,  made  their  escape  in  boats,  leaving 
about  a  hundred  and  ninety  men,  under  the  control  of  Mr.  Holwell,  tu 
make  the  best  of  their  forlorn  situation.  The  mere  handful  of  Knglish- 
men,  composing  the  garrison,  for  a  short  time  bravely  defended  them- 
selves, but  when  they  fell  into  the  power  of  the  infuriated  Suraja,  he 
ordered  the  unhappy  prisoners,  then  amounting  to  one  hundred  and  forty- 
six,  to  be  thrust  into  the  prison  of  Calcutta,  called  the  fihick-hole;  a  room 
less  than  twenty  feet  square.  Here  the  heat  and  foulness  of  the  air 
reduced  them  to  the  most  pitiable  state  imaginable  ;  and  when  on  the  fol- 
I  wing  morning  an  order  came  for  their  release,  only  twenty-three  were 
found  alive.  The  news  of  this  horrid  catastrophe  reached  Madras  just 
when  Colonel  Clive  and  Admiral  Watson,  flushed  by  their  recent  victory 
over  the  celebrated  pirate  Angria,  had  arrived  at  Madras  to  aid  in  the 
destruction  of  the  French  influence  in  Deccan.  Calcutta  '.;,s  ftnrefoie 
the  scene  of  their  next  operations;  ami  no  sooner  did  the  fe^t  u)..' ■  'ts 
appearance  before  that  city  than  it  surrendered.  The  ,'  nri.  i,  ■  .; 
Chandernagore  was  reduced  ;  several  of  the  Suraja  Dowl .  -  ...  pai,;ces 
were  taken,  conspiracies  were  formed  against  him,  and  the  haughty  chief- 
tain  feit  that  the  sovereignty  of  Bengal  must  be  decided  by  a  battle. 
Contrary  to  tlie  opinion  of  all  his  officers,  Clive  resolved  to  engage  him, 
althou^'i  the  disparity  of  their  forces  was  prodigious.  He  accordingly  took 
up  a  pc  ;>'(.-  in  the  grove  of  Plassy  ;  his  troops  in  the  whole  not  exceed- 
ing J-£Oi'  . ,  of  ■■'hom  onV  nine  hundred  were  Europeans;  while  Suraja 
Dowiii.  i:aa  \nU:  uitn  fifty  thou<sand  foot,  eighteen  thousand  horse,  and 


THE  TRGBASUHY  OF  HiaTUaV. 


Ml 


Ifl^  pinron  of  cannon.  So  jrpat  won;  uie  rrror*  nimniillcd  by  (hn 
tii'-iiiv.  iiitd  10  nkiiriilly  ilid  l\w  Kritmli  coiniii  mder  iimi>  Iiih  imcuiim,  tlmi  u 
com|)ii't()  victory  wuh  won,  at  ilii>  uiiti)iiiHlunii(ly  sinaM  lo!t<4  or  Huvciity  in<>n 
inkill**'!  and  woumlnl.  Thii  event  l.iid  lli  luunilatimi  "C  tho  RntiHh 
(loniinmn  in  India  ;  and  iiioiic  campiiign  tlii'y  I.  iine  nosst'nst-o.iif  iirriiury 
wliH'h,  in  its  wealth  and  rxtcnt,  uxrcrdtd  any  kiiiKiliiiM  in  Kuropi- 

A.  i>.  I7.)rt. — VVhilo  victory  followed  vu  '  iry  in  tln'  .,  U'rn  world,  ii 
chaiii{<'  in  the  Kii^linh  miniHtrv  li'd  to  siiiul n  ftiircessus  m  tli»  wr^^t  It 
wn»  at  tint*  period  that  the  culnbrated  William  i'llt  (:ifierwards  earl  of 
Ohikthain)  wuh  brought  into  odlce,  with  Mr.  LHgife  but  both  of  tliein 
beiiit;  opposed  to  the  nxpensivo  Hiipnort  of  continental  connexions,  Owy 
would  have  been  diHiiiissud  by  the  king,  but  for  the  ponularity  llicir  i>rin- 
•iples  had  acquired.  In  North  America  the  Briti.tli  arms  iiad  neeii 
tarnished  bv  delnys  and  disasters  that  might  have  been  avoidt^d  ;  and  it 
was  therot  Ml,  i';solved  to  recall  the  earl  of  Loudon,  and  entrust  the 
militar"  ",iiTitUic.l  to  generals  Abercrornbio,  Amherst,  and  Forbes,  itio 
firs' 'laii"'  II  lie  cominatider-in-ehief.  Amherst  laid  siege  to  Louis- 
boi.rr;,  and  aided  i<y  the  talents  of  Drigadier  Wolfe,  who  was  fast  risini;  into 
em>  i'n<".  forced  mat  important  garrison  to  surrender.  This  was  follow- 
ed  b)  till  I  ii'Te  reduction  of  Cape  Ureton,  and  the  inferior  stations  which 
lip  '.''renci'  opc npied  in  the  gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  Brigadier-general 
burbes  was  sent  against  Fort  du  Quesne,  which  the  French  at  his 
approach  abandoned.  But  the  expedition  against  Ticonderoga,  which 
Ahercroiiibie  himself  undertook,  failed  of  success;  the  number  and 
valour  of  his  troops  being  unequal  to  the  ca^iturc  of  a  place  so  strongly 
fortified. 

An  expedition  was  now  planned  against  Quebec  ;  and  as  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Canada  had  good  reason  to  believe  that  their  laws  and  religion 
would  be  respected,  they  were  prepared  to  submit  to  a  change  of  masters 
Thus  when  General  Wolfe  proitecded  up  the  St.  Lawrence,  he  encoun- 
tered no  very  serious  opposition  from  the  Canadians,  who  seenu^d  to 
regard  the  approaching  struggle  with  indifference.      While  Wcdfe  ad- 
vanced towards  Quebec,  (leneral  Amherst  conquered  Ticonderoga  and 
Crown   Point,  and   Sir  W.  Johnson  gained  the   important   fortress   of 
Niagara.     Amherst  expected  to  be  able  to  form  a  junction  with  Wolfe, 
but  in  this  he  was  disappointed ;  and  though  the  inadequacy  of  his  force 
made  him  almost  despair  of  success,  the  ardent  young  general  resolved  to 
persevere  in  this  hazardous  enterprize.     Having  effected  a  landing  in  the 
night,  under  the  heights  of  Abraham,  he  led  his  men  up  this  apparently 
inaccessible  steep,  thereby  securing  a  position  which  commanded  the 
town.    The  marquis  de  Montcalm  was  utterly  astonished  when  he  heard 
that  so  daring  and  desperate  an  effort  had  been  achieved  by  the  English 
troops,    A  battle  was  now  inevitable,  and  both  generals  pre{iai-ed  for  the 
contest  with  equal  courage.     It  was  brief,  but  fierce ;  the  scale  of  victory 
was  just  beginning  to  turn  in  favour  of  the  British,  when  a  ball  pierced 
the  breast  of  Wolfe,  and  he  fell  mortally  wounded.    The  unhappy  tidings 
flew  from  rank  to  rank;  esery  man  seemed  determined  to  avenge  the 
loss  of  his  general;  and  with  such  impetuosity  did  they  charge,  that  the 
words  "  ''."hey  run !"  resounded  in  the  ears  of  Wolfe  as,  expiring,   he 
.ink  in  a  soldier's  arms.     "Who  runi"  he  eagerly  inquired;  and  on 
being  told  it  was   the   French,   he  camly  replied,  "  1  die  happy."    The 
marquis  de  Montcalm  fell  in  the  same  field,  and  met  his  fate  with  simi- 
lar intrepidity.     In  skill  and  valour  he  was  no  way  inferior  to  his  more 
Joutliful  rival.     When  told,  after  the  battle,  that  his  wounds  were  mortal, 
e  exclaimed,  "  So  much  the  better  :  I  shall  not  live  to  witness  the  sur- 
render of  Quebec,"     In  a  few  days  after  this  battle,  tlie  city  opened  ita 
gates  \o  the  British,  and  the  complete  subjugation  of  the  Canadas  speedily 
(olWjved 


652 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


A.  D.  1760. — 111  the  East  Indies  the  success  of  the  English  was  scaroel* 
less  decisive  Mian  in  America.  By  land  and  by  sea  several  victories  had 
been  gained  in  that  quarter:  and  at  length  Colonel  Coote  and  the  French 
general,  Lally,  fought  a  determined  battle  at  Wandewash  (Jan.  21),  j^ 
wliich  the  French  were  signally  defeated  and  their  influence  in  the  Car- 
nalic  destroyed. 

Tlie  war  on  the  continent,  in  which  the  English  had  taken  a  very  active 
part,  had  now  raged  for  four  years,  without  gaining  any  other  advantac; 
tlian  the  gratification  of  defending  the  possessions  of  their  sovereign  iq 
Germany.     England,  indeed,  was  now  in  a  state  of  unparalleled  glory. 
At  sea,  the  conduct  of  her  admirals  had  destroyed  the  naval  power  of 
the  P'rench ;  in  the  Indies  her  empire    was  extended,  and  the  Kiigljgh 
rendered  masters  of  the  commerce  of  the  vast  peninsula  of  Hindoslan- 
while  in  Canada  a  most  important  conquest  had  been  achieved.     Tiiese 
important  acquisitions  made  the  English  very  impatient  of  the  German 
war;  and  they  asserted  that  the  French  islands  in  the  West  Indies,  more 
valuable  to  a  commercial  people  than  half  the  states  of  German},  niigt* 
have  been  gained  with  less  expense  and  risk  than  had  been  spent  in  de- 
fending one  paltry  electorate.     In  the  midst  of  these  disputes,  George  II. 
died  suddenly,  on  the  25ili  of  October,  in  the  77lh  year  of  his  age,  and 
the  34th  of  his  reign,     Tiie  immediate  cause  of  his  disease  was  a  run- 
ture  of  the  right  ventricle  of  the  heart.     If  we  impartially  regard  the  char- 
acter  of  this  king,  we  shall  find  both  in  his  private  and  public  conduct 
room  for  just  panegyric.     That  during  his  whole  reign  he  evinced  a  re- 
markable affection  for  his  Hanoverian  subjects  is  certainly  true  ;  yet  his 
exposing  that  country  to  the  attacks  of  the  enemy,  rather  than  neglect  the 
rights  of  England  in  North  America,  clears  him  of  the   imputation  of 
partiality.     In  his  temper  he  was  hasty  and  violent,  yet  his  general  con- 
duct was  so   little  influenced  by   this,  that  it   was  generally  mild  and 
humane.     He  was  impartial  in  the  administration  of  justice,  sincere  and 
open  in  his  intentions,  and  temperate  and  regular  in  his  manner  of  living 
Under  his  reign  the  agriculture,  commerce,  and  industry  of  Great  Britain 
daily  increased ;  and  his  subjects,  even  when  at  war  with  the  most  power- 
ful  nations  of  Europe,  enjoyed  peace  at  home,  and  acquired  glory  abroad. 
Great  progress  had  been  made  in  this  reign  in  disseminating  a  taste  for 
general  literature  and  the  arts;  and  though  it  was  not  the  fashion  forihe 
magnates  of  the  land  to  be  very  liberal  of  their  patronage  to  such  as 
devoted  their  minds  to  the  advancement  of  science,  still  much  was  done 
towards  pioneering  the  way  for  a  future  age,  when  a  solution  of  many  of 
the  phenomena  of  nature  might  seem  to  demand  more  serious  attention. 
Among  the  great  historians  were  Hume,  Gibbon,  and  Eobertson.     In 
philology  and  criticism  were  Warburlon,  Benlley,  and  Boyle.      Mathema- 
tics and   astronomy    could   boast   of  Ilalley,   Bradley,  and   Maclaurin. 
Theology  was  distinguished  by  the  eminent  names  of  Potter,  Hoadley, 
Sherlock,  Doddridge,    Watts,    Chandler,  and  many  otliers.     Painting 
had  its  Ueynolds,  Ramsay,  and  Hogarth  ;  music  its  Handel,  Boyce,  Greene, 
and  Arne  ;  and  among  the  votaries  of  the  muses  were  Pope,  Akenside, 
Thompson,  Young,  Gray,  Glover,  and  others  scarcely  less  distinguished 


CHAPTER  LX. 

THE    REIGN    OF    GEORGE  III. 


A.  D.  1760.— George  II.  was  succeeded  by  his  grandson,  George  lli„ 
eldest  son  of  Frederic,  prime  of  Wales,  whose  death  has  been  mentioned 
as  occurring  in  1751.  On  liis  accession  to  the  throne  he  was  twenty-two 
years  of  age ;  afll'able,  good-tempered,  upright,  and  religious.    His  educa- 


iroelj 
s  had 
'rench 
21),  in 
B  Car- 
active 
anta^s 
iign  ID 
glory, 
wer  of 
I'liiglish 
ioslan; 
Tliese 
German 
s,  more 
y ,  niigV' 
t  ill  (le- 
orge  II. 
ige,  and 
;  a  rup- 
;he  char- 
conduct 
ed  a  re- 
;  yet  his 
?gkct  the 
nation  ol 
oral  con- 
mild  and 
iicere  and 
of  living 
iat  Britain 
)st  power- 
ry  abroad, 
a  taste  for 
ton  for  the 
0  such  as 
was  done 
f  many  ol 
attention, 
son.     In 
Mathema- 
Maclautin. 
Hoadley, 
Painting 
e,  Greene, 
Akenside, 
tingulshed 


leorge  111.. 

mentioned 
twenty-two 
His  educd- 


• 


THB  TREA8TJRY  OF  HISTORY. 


653 


tion  had  been  under  the  direction  of  Lord  Bute,  and  he  had  a  great  :idvan- 
tage  over  his  predecessors,  in  being  acqiiHiiited  with  the  language,  liabits. 
ind  institutions  of  his  countrymen  ;  his  first  entranct!  into  public  life  con- 
gequenlly  made  a  favourable  impression  on  liis  sut>jects,  and  addresses, 
containing  professions  of  the  most  loyal  attachment,  poured  in  from  all 
parts  of  the  kingdom. 

On  his  majesty^s  accession,  the  nominal  head  of  the  administration  was 
the  duke  of  Newcastle  ;  but  Mr.  Pitt,  principal  secretary  of  state,  was  the 

Presiding  genius  of  the  cabinet.  The  chief  remaining  members  were 
lOrd  Northington,  afterwards  lord  chancellor ;  Lord  Carteret,  presiden 
of  the  council;  the  duke  of  Devonshire,  lord  chambi;rlain  ;  Mr.  Legge 
chancellor  of  the  exchequer ;  Lord  Anson,  first  lord  of  the  admiralty, 
and  Lord  Holdernesse,  secretary  of  state.  On  the  18th  of  November  the 
king  met  his  parliament,  and  in  a  popular  speech,  which  he  commenced 
with,  "  Born  and  educated  in  this  country,  I  glory  in  the  name  of  Briton,'' 
the  flourishing  state  of  the  kingdom,  the  brilliant  successos  of  the  war, 
and  the  extinction  of  internal  divisions  were  acknowledged  ;  while  the 
support  of  the  "  protestant  interest,"  and  a  "  safe  and  honourable  peace," 
were  declared  to  be  the  objects  of  the  war.  An  act  was  then  passed  for 
granting  "to  his  majesty  an  annual  income  of  80,000/. 

A.  V.  1761. — One  of  the  first  important  acts  of  the  new  monarch  was  a 
declaration  of  his  intention  to  marry  the  princess  Charlotte,  daughter  ol 
the  duke  of  Mecklenburgh-Strelitz:  the  necessary  preparations  were  ac- 
cordingly made;  she  arrived  in  London  on  the  7th  of  September,  the  nup- 
tials took  place  that  evening  in  the  royal  chapel,  and  on  the  22d  their 
majesties  were  crowned  in  Westminster-abbey. 

Soon  after  the  king's  accession,  negotiations  for  peace  were  commenced 
by  the  courts  of  France  and  Great  Britain,  but  there  was  little  honesty  of 
intention  on  either  side ;  Mr.  Pitt  being  firmly  resolved  to  humble  the 
house  of  Bourbon,  while  the  duke  of  Chouiseul,  on  the  part  of  France, 
was  relying  on  the  promises  of  Spanish  aid,  to  enable  him  to  carry  on 
hostilities  with  increased  vigour.  The  war  languished  in  Germany ;  but 
at  sea  the  honour  of  the  British  flag  was  still  nobly  sustained.  Peace 
appeared  to  be  desirable  for  all  parties,  and  negotiations  were  resumed; 
but  neither  power  was  willing  to  make  concessions,  and  Mr.  Pitt  having 
discovered  that  an  intimate  connexion  between  the  courts  of  Versailles 
and  Madrid  had  been  formed,  proposed  in  council  to  anticipate  the  hos- 
tile intentions  of  the  latter,  by  seizing  the  plate-fleet,  laden  with  the  treas- 
ures of  Spanish  America.  To  this  the  king  and  tlie  rest  of  the  ministers 
were  adverse ;  the  consequence  of  which  was,  that  Mr.  Pitt  and  his 
brother-in-law,  Lord  Temple,  sent  in  their  seals  of  office.  His  majesty, 
anxious  to  introduce  his  favourite,  the  earl  of  Bute  into  the  cabinet,  ac- 
cepted the  premier's  resignation,  and  in  return  for  his  great  services,  a 
pension  of  3,000/.  per  annum  was  settled  upon  him,  which  was  to  continue 
to  his  wife  (on  whom  the  title  of  baroness  Chatham  was  conferred)  and 
their  eldest  son,  for  their  lives. 

A.  D.  1762. — A  very  few  months  after  the  late  changes  in  the  cabinet 
had  occurred,  it  became  fully  evident  that  the  "  family  compact"  of  the 
houses  of  Bourbon  had  been  completed.  On  this  occasion  the  new  min- 
istry showed  no  want  of  alacrity  in  maintaining  their  country's  honour; 
and  on  the  4th  of  January  war  was  declared  against  Spain.  The  first 
blow  was  struck  by  Admiral  Rodney,  who  captured  Martiiiico ;  which  was 
followed  by  the  surrender  of  the  dependent  isles,  Grenada,  St.  Lucie,  and 
St.  Vincent.  The  next  expedition  undertaken  by  the  English  was  equally 
successful ;  a  fleet  under  Admiral  Pococke,  assisted  by  an  army  under 
the  earl  of  Albemarle,  was  sent  against  Havanna,  the  capital  of  the  island 
of  Cuba,  which  surrendered  after  a  vigorous  resistance  of  two  months. 
The  riches  acquired  by  the  English  on  this  occasion  amounted  to  tw«iwe 


S54 


THE  TRfiASUay  OP  HI8T0EY. 


\ 


ships  of  the  line,  besides  money  and  merchandise  to  the  amount  of  fouf 
millions  sterlini^. 

While  these  successes  attended  the  British  arms  in  the  West  Indies,  an 
armament  from  Madras,  under  General  Draper  and  General  Cvjrnish,  re- 
duced  the  island  of  Manilla,  and  its  fall  involved  the  fate  of  the  whole 
range  of  the  Philippine  islands.  The  capture  of  the  Hermione,  a  large 
Spanish  register- ship,  took  place  soon  after,  and  the  cargo,  which  wu 
estimated  at  a  million  sterling,  passed  in  triumph  to  the  bank  at  the  sar... 
hour  in  which  the  birth  of  the  prince  of  Wales  was  announced  to  the  pub 
lie  (April  12,  1762). 

An  attempt  made  by  Spain  to  subdue  Portugal  having  proved  unsuc- 
cessful, and  both  France  and  Spain  being  heartily  tired  of  a  war  whieh 
threatened  ruin  to  the  colonies  of  both,  they  became  desirous  of  peace ; 
this  being  agreeable  to  the  British  ministry,  of  whom  the  earl  of  Bute  was 
then  at  the  head,  preliminaries  were  speedily  set  on  foot.  Indeed,  so 
anxious  was  his  lordship  to  avoid  a  continuance  of  hostilities,  that  he  not 
only  stopped  the  career  of  colonial  conquest,  but  consented  to  sacrifice 
several  acquisitions  that  Britain  had  already  made.  The  definitive  treaty 
was  concluded  at  Paris  on  the  11th  of  February,  1763.  Florida  was  re- 
ceived in  exchange  for  Havanna;  Cape  Breton,  Tobago,  Domi nice,  St. 
Vincent,  Grenada,  and  Senegal  were  retained ;  the  conquest  of  Canada 
remained  intact,  and  the  British  nation  had  also  gained  large  possessions 
and  a  decided  superiority  in  India. 

A.  D.  1763. — In  Germany  the  marquis  of  Granby  signalized  himself  at 
the  head  of  an  army ;  and,  in  union  with  the  king  of  Prussia,  would  in  all 
probability  have  succeeded  in  expelling  the  French  troops,  had  not  a  gen- 
eral treaty  of  peace  put  an  end  to  the  contest.  Britain  by  the  colonial 
war  obtained  complete  maritime  supremacy ;  she  commanded  the  entire 
commerce  of  North  America  and  Hindostan,  and  had  a  decided  super]- 
ority  in  the  West  Indian  trade.  But  during  the  "  seven  years'  war"  a 
question  arose  which  led  to  very  important  discussions;  France,  unable  to 
maintain  a  commercial  intercourse  with  her  colonies,  opened  the  trade  to 
neutral  powers ;  England  declared  this  traffic  illegal,  and  relying  on  her 
naval  superiority,  seized  neutral  vessels  and  neutral  property  bound  to 
hostile  ports.  The  return  of  peace  put  an  end  to  the  dispute  for  a  season, 
but  the  subject  has  since  been  the  fruitful  source  of  angry  discussion  in 
every  subsequent  war. 

The  earl  of  Bute,  under  whose  auspices  the  late  peace  had  been  made, 
iiad  always  been  beheld  with  jealousy  by  the  popular  party,  who  accused 
him  of  having  formed  that  "  influence  behind  the  throne  greater  than  the 
throne  itself," — though  it  really  seems  to  have  been  a  mere  delusion,  fos- 
tered and  encouraged  for  factious  purposes — now  suddenly  resigned  his 
office  of  first  lord  of  the  treasury,  and  was  succeeded  by  Mr.  George  Gren- 
ville. 

The  public  attention  was  now  almost  wholly  bent  on  the  result  of  the 
trial  of  John  Wilkes,  member  for  Aylesbury,  a  man  of  good  talents  and 
classical  taste,  but  who  bore  a  very  profligate  character.  Disappointed  in 
his  expectations  from  the  ministry,  he  assumed  the  part  of  a  violent 
patriot,  and  inveighed  vehemently  against  the  measures  pursued  by  gov- 
ernment. The  press  teemed  with  political  pamphlets,  to  which  the  minis- 
terial party  seemed  indifferent,  until  the  appearance  of  No.  49  of  the  North 
Briton,  in  which  very  strong  and  scurrilous  abuse  was  published  against 
the  king's  speech  delivered  at  the  close  of  parliament.  A  general  warrant 
was  thereupon  issued  for  apprehending  the  author,  printer,  and  publisher 
of  it ;  and  Mr.  Wilkes  being  tiiken  into  custody,  he  was  sent  to  the  Tower, 
and  all  his  papers  were  s?ized.  He  was  afterwards  tried  in  the  court  ol 
common  pleas,  and  acquitted.  Lord  Chief-Justice  Pratt  declaring  against 


THE  TRBASUEY  OF  HISTORY. 


6U 


ihe  legality  of  general  warrants 
names  of  the  accused. 


that  is,  warrants  not  specifying  the 


in 


But  Willies,  after  his  release,  having  republished  tlie  offensive  paper,  an 
formation  was  filed  against  him  at  his  majesty's  suit,  for  a  gross  libel, 
and  the  North  Briton  was  burned  by  the  common  hangman:  nor  did  the 
matter  end  here ;  the  legality  of  general  warrants  gave  rise  to  several 
stormy  debates  in  the  house  of  commons ,  and  at  length  Mr.  Wilkes  was 
expelled  for  having  printed  in  his  own  house  an  infamous  poem,  called 
"  An  Essay  on  Woman,"  with  notes,  to  which  the  name  of  Bishop  War- 
burton  was  affixed.  As  he  did  not  appear  to  the  indictment  preferred 
against  him,  he  was  declared  an  outlaw.  He  then  retired  to  France ;  and 
we  may  here  as  well  observe,  though  in  doing  so  we  overstep  ourchrono- 
lo^ical  boundary,  that  in  1768  he  returned  to  England,  and,  by  subiniiting 
lo^he  fine  and  imprisonment  pronounced  against  him,  procured  a  reversion 
of  the  sentence  of  outlawry.  He  then  offered  himself  to  represent  the 
county  of  Middlesex,  and  was  unanimously  chosen,  in  opposition  to  the 
ministerial  candidates.  He  afterwards  commenced  a  prosecution  against 
the  earl  of  Halifax,  and  recovered  4,000/.  damages  for  his  imprisonment 
in  the  Tower  upon  an  illegal  warrant. 

A.  D.  1765. — This  year  is  rendered  important  in  the  annals  of  England 
by  the  passing  of  an  American  stamp  act,  which  gave  rise  to  those  disputes 
which  alienated  the  colonies  from  the  mother-country,  and  ended  in  a 
total  separation.    As  the  late  war  had  been  entered  into  by  Great  Britain, 
in  order  to  protect  her  American  settlements  from  the  encroachments  of 
the  French,  it  was  thought  reasonable  that  they  should  contribute  towards 
the  expenses  which  had  been  incurred.     A  bill  was  accordingly  brought 
into  parliament,  and  received  the  royal  assent,  for  imposing  a  stamp  and 
other  duties  on  fifty-three  articles  of  their  commerce.     However,  eventu- 
ally, the  resistance  made  by  the  Americans  to  these  imposts,  and  the  gen- 
eral discontent  which  prevailed  in  England,  occasioned  the  repeal  of  the 
act.    A  change  in  the  ministry,  by  the  introduction  of  the  marquis  of 
Rockingham,  was  the  immediate  consequence ;  but  his  rule  was  of  very 
limited  duration,  and  the  duke  of  Grafton  was  appointed  first  lord  of  the 
treasury.    The  privy  seal  was  bestowed  on  Mr.  Pitt,  who  was  created 
c;irl  of  Chatham  ;  Lord  Camden  succeeded  Lord  Northington  as  lord 
chancellor,  and  Mr.  Townshend  was  made  chancellor  of  the  exchequer. 
The  affairs  of  the  East  India  Company  now  claimed  the  attention  of  the 
house.    Mr.  Vansittart  had  acted  as  governor-general  from  the  time  of 
Colonel  Clive's  return  to  England  in  1760.     But  the  viceroy  of  Bcngnl 
had  opposed  the  company,  and  a  war  ensued  which  ended  by  the  English 
making  an  entire  conquest  of  the  kingdom  of  Bengal.    The  preceding 
year  the  company  sent  over  Lord  Clive,  who  found  that  their  agents  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  exacting  large  sums  as  presents  from  the  native 
princes,  by  which  means  they  had  accumulated  great  riches,  and  the 
name  of  an  Englishman  had  become  odious.     Lord  Clive  resolved  to  re- 
strain the  rapacity  of  these  persons,  and  he  concluded  a  treaty  for  the 
company,  by  which  they  would  enjoy  a  revenue  of  1,700,000/. 

The  wealth  of  this  powerful  body  rendered  it  too  formidable  in  the  eyes 
of  government,  and  a  question  arose  whether  the  East  India  Company 
had  any  right  to  territorial  jurisdiction.  On  examining  into  their  charter, 
it  appeared  that  they  were  prohibited  from  making  conquests  ;  and  it  be 
ing  proved  that  they  had  subdued  some  of  the  native  princes,  and  annexed 
their  dominions  to  the  company's  settlements,  it  was  agreed  that  this 
commercial  association  should  be  brought  in  some  degree  under  the  con- 
trol of  parliament. 

The  metropolis  was  for  a  long  time  agitated  with  the  affair  of  Wilkes, 
of  which  a  set  of  restless  demagogues  took  advantage  to  distuM  the  public 
iiind,  already  over-excited  by  the  opposition  to  the  measures  of  govern- 


G56 


THK  TREA8UBY  OF  HISTOllY. 


ment  as  regarded  the  North  American  colonies.    But  no  national  event 
worthy  of  historical  record  occurred  for  some  considerable  time. 

One  or  two  matters  of  domestic  interest  which  happened  during  thu 
period  must,  however,  bo  noticed.  Tlie  first  relates  to  an  address  from 
the  corpomtion  of  London  to  the  king,  which  was  presented  on  the  23d 
of  May,  1770,  in  which  they  lamented  the  royal  displeasure  tliey  had 
incurred  in  consequence  of  their  former  remonstrance;  but  they  still  ad- 
hered lo  it,  and  again  prayed  for  a  dissolution  of  |)arliament.  To  which 
his  majesty  replied  that  "  he  should  have  been  wanting  to  the  public,  at 
well  as  to  himself,  had  he  made  such  an  use  of  the  prerogative  as  was 
inconsistent  with  the  interest,  and  dangerous  to  the  constitution  of  the 
kingdom."  Upon  this,  the  lord-mayor  Ueckford,  a  high-spirit(!d  and  fear, 
less  democrat,  begged  leave  to  anszuer  the  /cing-  Such  a  request  was  as 
indecorous  as  it  \va?  unusual;  but  in  the  confusion  of  the  moment,  Inavc 
was  given,  and,  with  great  fluency  of  language,  he  delivered  an  extern 
pore  address  to  his  majesty,  concluding  in  the  following  words  :— "Per 
mit  me,  sire,  to  observe  that  whoever  has  already  dared,  or  shall  hereafter 
endeavour,  by  fiilse  insinuations  and  suggestions,  to  alienate  your  ma- 
jesty's affections  from  your  loyal  subjects  in  general,  and  from  the  city 
of  London  in  particular,  and  to  withdraw  your  confidence  from,  and  regard 
for,  your,  people,  is  au  enemy  to  your  majesty's  person  and  family,  a 
violator  of  the  public  peace,  and  the  betrayer  of  our  happy  constitution 
as  it  was  establish'id  at  the  glorious  and  necessary  revolution,"  No 
reply  was  given,  but  the  king;  reddened  with  anger  and  astonishment 
When  his  civic  lordship  again  appeared  at  St.  James'  the  lord-chamber- 
lain informed  him  that  his  majesty  desired  that  nothing  of  the  kind  might 
happen  in  future. 

An  ex-officio  persecution  against  Woodfall,  the  printer  and  puldisheroi 
the  "  Public  Advertiser,"  in  which  the  "  Letters  of  .lunius"  originally  ap 
peared,  having  placed  him  at  the  bar.  Lord  Mansfield  informed  the  jury 
that  they  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  intention  of  the  writer,  their  province 
was  limited  to  the  fart  of  publishing;  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  alledged 
libel  was  wholly  immaterial.  The  jury,  however,  after  being  out  nine 
hours,  found  a  verdict  of  guilty  of  printing  and  publishing  only,  which  in 
effect  amounted  to  an  acquittal.  These  celebrated  "  Letters"  were  equally 
distinguished  by  the  force  and  elegance  of  their  style,  as  by  the  virulence 
of  their  attacks  on  individuals ;  and  though  conjecture  has  ever  since  been 
busy  to  discover  the  author,  and  strong  circumstantial  evidetice  has  been 
brought  forward  at  different  times  to  identify  different  persons  with  the 
authorship,  no  one  has  yet  succeeded  in  the  attempt. 

Before  this  time  (1771)  the  parliamentary  debates  had  only  been  given 
in  monthly  magazines  and  other  periodicals  published  at  considerable 
intervals.  The  practice  of  daily  reporting  now  commenced ;  but  as  it 
was  an  innovation  on  the  former  practice,  and  in  direct  violation  of  the 
standing;  orders  of  the  house,  several  printers  were  apprehended  and  t»ken 
before  Lord-mayor  Crosby  and  AMermen  Oliver  and  Wilkes,  who  dis- 
charged  them,  and  held  the  messenger  of  the  commons  to  bail  for  false 
imprisonment.  The  house  of  commons,  enraged  at  this  daring  conienipi 
of  their  authority,  committed  their  two  members,  Crosby  and  Oliver,  to 
the  Tower;  but  eventually  the  matter  was  suffered  to  drop ;  the  aldermen 
were  liberated ;  and  from  that  time  the  publication  of  the  parliamentary 
proceedings  has  been  connived  at! 

On  the  death  of  Mr.  Townshend,  who  did  not  long  survive  his  appoint- 
ment to  the  office  of  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  he  was  succeeded  by 
Lord  North — Lord  Chatham  having  now  lost  his  influence  over  the  minis- 
try, and  being  dissatisfied  with  their  proceedings,  resigned  his  place  as 
lord-keeper  of  the  privy  seal,  and  retired  Jrom  the  cares  of  government. 

In  the  late  arrangemeots  made  between  government  and  the  Hast  India 


nciice  cal 
Vol.! 


THE  Ta^ASUaV  OF  HMTORY. 


nr 


vent 

thiB 
from 
c  23(1 
'  had 
ill  i\d. 
which 
>lic,  ai 
18  was 
of  the 
(I  fear- 
was  as 
I,  leave 
extern 
-"Per 
crcaftet 
cmr  ma- 
the  cily 
1(1  regard 
uinily,  a 
istilulion 
tn."    No 
lishmeiU 
chamber- 
iud  migh> 

ihlisheroi 
jiually  ap 
d  the  jury 
T  province 
le  alledged 
out  nine 

,  which  in 

[ere  equally 

virulence 

since  been 
bo  has  been 

s  with  the 

J  been  given 
jowsiderable 
. ,  but  as  it 
ition  of  the 
[A  and  taken 
^8,  who  dis- 
lail  for  false 
\\a  con'empi 
Id  Oliver,  to 
[he  aldermen 
u-liamentary 

I  his  appoint- 
Jucceeded  by 
ler  the  minis- 
1  his  place  as 
lovornnienl. 
[le  East  India 


Company,  permission  was  given  to  the  latter  to  export  teu  free  of  duty. 
Lord  North  hoped  that  the  low  price  of  the  article  would  induce  the 
Americans  to  pay  the  duty  charged  on  importation  by  the  English  legis- 
lature, if  only  for  the  mere  purpose  of  allowing  the  right  of  taxation- 
Custom-houses  iiad  been  established  in  their  seaports,  for  the  purpose  of 
collecting  these  duties  ;  which  being  considered  by  the  Americans  as  an 
infnngenient  of  tiieir  liberty,  they  resolved  to  discontinue  the  use  of  Brit- 
ish commodities.  Accordingly,  when  three  vessels,  laden  with  tea,  arrived 
at  Boston,  they  were  boarded  during  the  night  by  a  party  of  the  townsmen, 
and  the  cargoes  thrown  into  the  sea.  This,  followed  by  other  acts  of 
defiance,  and  a  repetition  of  similar  rebellious  conduct  on  the  par;  of  the 
inliabitants  of  South  Carolina,  gave  great  offence,  while  it  occasioned  con- 
siderable alarm  in  Flngland,  and  acts  were  passed  for  closing  the  port  of 
Doston,  and  for  altering  the  constitution  of  the  colony  of  Massachusetts. 
When  the  order  to  close  the  port  of  Boston  reached  America,  a  copy 
of  the  act,  surrounded  with  a  black  border,  was  circulated  through  all  the 
provinces,  and  they  resolved  to  spend  the  Ist  of  June,  the  day  appointed 
to  put  the  act  into  execution,  in  fasting  and  prayer.  Whilst  each  i)rovince 
was  framing  resolutions,  the  other  bills  reached  Massachusetts.  These 
raised  their  irritated  feelings  to  the  highest  pitch,  and  they  formed  an 
association,  in  which  they  bound  themselves,  by  a  solemn  league  and  cov- 
enant, to  break  off  all  commercial  intercourse  with  Great  Britain,  until 
the  Boston  port-bill  and  other  acts  should  be  repealed,  and  the  colony 
restored  to  its  ancient  rights.  In  this  situation  of  affairs  the  British  par- 
liament assembled,  when  a  conciliatory  plan  for  accommodating  the 
troubles  of  America  was  proposed  in  the  house  of  lords  by  the  earl  of 
Chatham,  and  rejected.  The  petition  and  remonstrance  of  The  Congress 
were  also  rejected,  and  an  application  made  by  their  agents  to  be  heard 
at  the  bar  of  the  house  of  commons  was  refused. 

A.  D.  1775. — An  open  rupture  between  the  parent  state  and  its  colonies 
was  evidently  approaching  with  rapid  strides.  Determined  to  support 
their  cause  with  the  utmost^  vigour,  the  Americans  at  once  proceeded  to 
train  their  militia,  crecx  pov/der-miils  in  Philadelphia  and  Virginia,  and 
prepare  arms  in  e'/ery  proi'ince.  Thsy  also  assumed  the  appellation  of 
"  The  United  Coionies  of  America,"  established  an  extensive  paper  cur- 
rency, and  were  very  active  in  raising  a  regular  army.  On  the  other  hand. 
the  authority  of  the  British  government  was  promptly  supported  by  Gen 
eral  Gage,  who  had  lately  been  appointed  governor  ol^  Massachusetts' 
Bay.  This  officer  having  received  intelligence  that  some  military  ste  rei 
belonging  to  the  provincials  were  deposited  at  a  place  called  Concord,  he 
sent  thither  a  detachment  of  soldiers  to  destroy  them  ;  but  on  their  reti'rr 
to  Boston,  these  troops  were  pursued  by  a  body  of  provincials,  who  wtwli 
have  succeeded  in  cutting  them  off,  had  not  the  general  sent  out  a  la.^^b 
force  to  cover  their  retreat.  The  loss  of  the  English  on  this  occasior 
amounted  to  273  men ;  of  the  Americans  only  50  were  killed  and  3f. 
wounded.  War  had  therefore  now  actually  commenced ;  and  the  provin- 
cials, elated  with  their  success,  pursued  their  hostile  intentions  with 
increased  vigour.  Having  a  short  time  after  surprised  the  fortresses  of 
Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point,  and  by  that  means  possessed  themselves 
of  upwards  of  100  pieces  of  cannon,  besides  a  large  quantity  of  military 
stores  of  every  description,  they  assembled  an  army  of  20,000  men,  which 
they  entrusted  to  George  Washington,  and  resolved  to  lay  siege  to  Bos- 
ton. In  the  meantime  the  English  cabinet  having  received  intelligence 
of  these  resolute  proceedings,  sent  a  reinforcement  to  their  army,  with 
the  generals  Howe,  Eurgoyne,  and  Clinton.  The  Americans,  not  at  ah 
iaiimidated  by  these  measures,  persisted  in  blockading  Boston  :  and  in  the 
n\g,\n  of  the  tenth  of  June  they  took  possession  of  and  fortified  an  emi- 
nence called  Bunker's  hill,  iwtn  which  they  could  open  a  formidable  can. 
Vol.  I.— 42 


<tt 


THE  TEEA8UEY  OF  HISTORY. 


nonade  on  the  town.  To  this  point  General  Gage  sent  two  thousand 
men,  in  order  to  dislodge  them  ;  in  which  attempt  they  at  last  succeeded 
but  not  without  a  loss  so  heavy,  that  the  English  general  resolved  to 
confine  himself  for  the  future  to  defensive  operations. 

Hitherto,  notwithstanding  their  uninterrupted  success,  the  American 
colonists  had  disclaimed  all  idea  of  assuming  independence ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  as  was  averred  in  a  petition  from  the  congress,  presented  to  the 
king  by  Mr.  Penn,  a  descendant  of  the  founder  of  Pennsylvania,  they 
were  extremely  desirous  of  eflfecting  a  compromise.  He  at  the  same 
time  assured  the  government,  that  if  the  present  application  was  rejected 
they  would  enter  into  alliance  with  foreign  powers ;  and  that  such  allian' 
ces,  if  once  formed,  would  be  with  great  difficulty  dissolved.  1'he  peti< 
tion  was,  however,  rejected ;  an  act  was  passed,  prohibiting  all  trade  with 
the  colonies,  and  another,  by  which  all  American  vessels  were  declared 
enemies'  ships. 

The  Americans,  finding  that  their  endeavours  to  conciliate  the  ministry 
were  ineffectual,  gave  orders  to  their  generals  to  endeavour  to  subjugate 
such  of  the  colonies  as  remained  faithful  to  Great  Britain.  Two  parties 
were  sent  into  Canada,  under  General  Montgomery  and  Colonel  Arnold 
who,  after  having  surmounted  innumerable  difficulties,  laid  siege  to  Que- 
bec ;  but  in  this  attempt  they  were  overpowered  ;  Montgomery  was  killed 
Arnold  was  wounded,  and  their  men  were  compelled  to  make  a  precipi-' 
tate  retreat.  While  the  Americans  were  thus  unsuccessful  in  Canada, 
the  British  governors  in  Virginia  and  North  and  South  Carolina  had  used' 
their  best  endeavours  to  keep  those  provinces  in  alliance,  but  without 
effect;  they  therefore  found  themselves  obliged  to  return  to  Kngland. 
General  Gage  was  recalled,  and  the  command  of  the  troops  at  Boston 
devolved  on  General  Howe,  who  was  soon  after  obliged  to  evacuate  the 
place,  and  repair  to  Halifax,  in  Nova-Scotia.  The  royal  forces  had  no 
sooner  relinquished  the  town  than  General  Washington  took  possession 
of  it,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  some  foreign  engineers,  fortified  it  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  render  it  almost  impregnable.  It  now  wanted  littlu 
to  effect  a  total  alienation  of  the  colonies  from  Great  Britain  ;  and  the 
lact  of  having  subsidized  a  large  body  of  German  mercenaries  for  the  pur- 
pose  of  assisting  in  the  subjugation  of  the  revolted  provinces,  served  as  a 
fair  excuse  for  the  congress  to  publish  the  declaration  of  independence  oj 
the  ihtrteen  United  States,  which  took  place  on  the  4th  of  July,  1776. 

This  bold  measure  was  determined  on  at  a  time  when  the  congress  had 
no  very  flattering  prospect  before  their  eyes,  and  little  to  encourage  them 
save  the  indomitable  spirit  of  resistance  that  everywhere  manifested 
itself  to  British  supremacy.  Its  army  was  a  raw  militia,  and  it  was  mi- 
provided  to  any  extent  with  ships  or  money  ;  while  the  English  forces, 
greatly  augmented,  were  preparing  to  besiege  New- York.  General  Howe 
had  been  joined  by  his  brother,  Lord  Howe,  and  on  the  26lh  of  August 
the  campaign  opened  by  the  English  taking  possession  of  Long  Island, 
preparatory  to  an  attack  on  New- York,  which  was  captured  on  the  21st 
of  September,  Washington  evacuating  that  city  with  the  utmost  precipi- 
tation.  The  city  was  soon  after  set  on  fire  by  some  incendiaries,  who  had 
concealed  themselves,  p.kid  nearly  a  third  part  of  it  was  destroyed.  After 
an  undeviating  course  of  victory.  General  Howe  led  his  troops  into  winter. 
quarters ;  but  in  the  disposition  of  them  he  departed  from  his  usual  pru- 
dence, and  allowed  them  to  be  too  much  scattered,  which  occasioned  the 
Hessian  troops,  who,  from  their  depredations  and  cruelties,  had  roused 
the  resentful  feelings  of  the  inhabitants  of  New-Jersey,  to  be  surprised 
in  their  cantonments,  where  nearly  1000  were  taken  prisoners,  and  many 
slain. 

A.  D.  1777. — Gratified  with  the  intelligence  they  received  of  Howe's 
successes,  the  English  ministry  determined  to  follow  them  up  by  sending 


an  arm 

•tates, 

seemed 

defeater 

while  B 

southwa 

reached 

erals  6a 

men,  wei 

paign  wli 

turned  ot 

appeared 


\ 


l  ho  had 
Afiet 
IwiiUBT- 
lva\  pru- 
Ined  ihe 
roused 
kupvised 
U  many 

Howe's 

sending 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY.  |g| 

an  army  under  Ucneral  Burgoyne,  from  Canada  through  the  northern 
•tales,  to  co-operate  with  Howe  in  the  South.  For  a  time  evsry thing 
seemed  to  promise  a  favour&ble  issue  to  this  project :  Sir  William  Howe 
defeated  Washington  at  the  battle  of  Brandywine,  and  look  Philadelphia » 
while  Burgoyne,  having  reduced  Ticonderoga,  was  pursuing  his  march 
southward.  But  innumerable  difficulties  lay  in  his  way,  and  when  he 
reached  Saratoga,  he  was  surrounded  by  the  American  forces  under  gen- 
erals  Gares  and  Arnold,  and  he  and  his  whole  army,  amounting  to  5752 
tnen,  were  compelled  to  surrender  prisoners  of  war.  Thus  ended  a  cam- 
paign which  at  the  outset  seemed  so  promising;  but,  disastrous  as  it  had 
turned  out,  neither  the  confidence  of  ministers  nor  of  the  British  people 
appeared  to  be  at  all  abated. 

A.  D.  1778.— Whilst  England  was  engaged  in  this  unfortunate  contest 
with  her  colonies,  a  cessation  seemed  to  have  taken  place  in  the  conten- 
tions and  animosities  of  other  nations,  and  their  whole  attention  was  ap« 
parently  engrossed  by  speculating  on  the  novel  scene  before  them.  The 
great  disturbers  of  mankind  appear  to  have  laid  aside  their  rapacity  and 
ambition,  wh.Ait  they  contemplated  the  new  events  which  were  transpi- 
ring, and  predicted  the  conclusion  of  sostranee  a  warfare.  The  enemies 
of  Kngland,  who  had  long  beheld,  with  apprehension,  the  increase  of  het 
commerce,  and  many  of  England's  old  allies  who  envied  her  the  posses- 
sion of  such  valuable  colonies,  were  astonished  at  the  revolution  which 
threatened  her,  and  looked  forward  with  pleasure  to  the  time  when  hei 
power  and  glory  should  be  wrested  from  her  grasp.  The  Americans 
were  received,  protected,  and  openly  caressed  by  France  and  Spain,  who, 
beginning  to  feel  the  influence  of  that  commerce  from  which  they  had 
been  so  long  excluded,  treated  the  colonies  with  respect,  and  rejected  the 
feeble  remonstrances  of  England's  ambassadors.  Happy  had  it  been  for 
France,  and  happy  for  the  world,  if,  content  with  reaping  the  benefits  of 
American  commerce,  they  had  remained  spectators  of  the  contest,  and 
simply  profited  by  the  dissensions  of  their  neighbours.  For  it  is  beyond 
all  doubt  that  the  seed  of  republicanism  which  was  sown  in  America 
sprung  up  and  was  nurtured  in  France,  nor  could  its  rank  growth  be 
checked  till  every  acre  of  that  fair  land  had  been  steeped  in  blood. 

Crippled  and  pent  up  in  situations  from  which  they  could  not  stir  with- 
out danger,  the  royal  troops  exhibited  a  most  forlorn  appearance,  while 
every  o:iy  was  adding  to  the  strength  and  resources  of  the  insurgents. 
They  had  established  for  themselves  an  efficient  government ;  they  had 
agents  at  the  principal  European  courts ;  they  raised  and  maintained  ar- 
mies ;  and  they  had,  in  fact,  been  recognised  as  an  independent  nation 
oy  two  of  the  principal  powers  in  Europe.  The  treaty  between  France 
and  America  was  completed,  and  the  discussions  which  arose  on  the  no- 
tification of  this  circumstance  to  the  British  parliament,  were  stormy  and 
violent.  Though  both  parties  were  unanimous  in  theit  opinion  that  a 
war  with  France  was  unavoidable,  yet  the  opposition,  who  had  from  the 
beginning  reprobated  the  American  war,  insisted  that  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  independence  of  the  colonies  was  the  only  effectual  method 
of  terminating  the  contest.  The  ministerial  party,  on  the  other  hand, 
represented  the  disgrace  of  bending  beneath  the  power  of  France,  and 
the  dishonour  of  leaving  the  American  loyalists  exposed  to  the  rancour 
of  their  countrymen. 

An  invasion  of  England  being  at  this  time  threatened  by  the  French,  an 
address  was  moved  for  recalling  the  fleets  and  armies  from  America, 
and  stationing  them  in  a  place  where  they  might  more  effectually  contri- 
bute to  the  defence  of  the  kingdom.  This  measure  was  vigorously  op- 
posed by  the  administration,  and  by  some  members  of  the  opposition. 
Lord  Chatham,  whose  infirmities  had  lately  prevented  him  from  attending 
la  his  place  in  parliament,  evinced  his  decided  disapprobation  of  it  -  he  had 


«60 


THB  TRBASIiRY  OF  HISTOEY. 


entered  the  house  in  a  rich  suit  or  black  velvet,  a  full  wig,  and  wrapp«(« 
in  flannel  to  the  knoes,  and  was  supported  to  his  seat  by  his  sou  and 
■oii-in-law,  Mr.  William  Pitt  and  Viscount  Mahon.  It  is  said  that  ho 
looked  weak  and  emaciated ;  and,  rcstinfr  his  hands  on  hia  crutches,  he  at 
first  spoke  with  difTiculty,  but  as  ho  grbv  warm  his  voice  rose,  and  be- 
came, as  usual,  oratorical  and  affecting.  "  My  lords,"  said  he,  "  I  rejoice 
that  the  grave  has  not  closed  upon  me,  that  I  am  still  alive  to  lift  up  my 
voice  against  the  dismemberment  of  this  ancient  and  most  noble  mon- 
archy." He  was  replied  to  with  great  respect  by  the  duke  of  Richmond, 
when  on  attempting  to  rise  a^ain  he  fell  back  before  uttering  a  word,  in 
a  convulsive  (it.  fiom  which  lie  never  recovered,  and  died  a  few  days 
after,  in  the  70th  year  of  his  age,  May  11,  1778.  His  merits  were  trans 
cendant,  and  his  death  was  lamented  as  a  national  loss.  Apart  from  the 
aberrations  originating  in  an  ardent  love  of  power,  his  course  was  splen- 
did and  magnanimous  ;  and  it  was  truly  said  of  him  by  Lord  ChcsterficM, 
that  his  private  life  was  stained  by  no  vices,  nor  sullied  by  any  mcanncas. 
Contemporary  praise  and  posthumous  honours  were  showered  down  upon 
the  man  of  whom  the  nation  was  justly  proud.  His  remains  were  inter- 
red with  great  solemnity  in  Westminster  abbey,  and  the  city  of  Loudon 
erected  a  flattering  tribute  to  his  memory  in  Guildhall. 

A  French  squadron  was  sent  from  Toulon  to  the  assistance  of  America, 
under  the  command  of  Count  d'Estaing,  who  reduced  the  island  of  Grepu- 
da,  while  a  body  of  his  forces  made  themselves  masters  of  St.  Vinccni. 
In  other  parts  of  the  West  Indian  seas  the  British  arms  were  ably  sii" 
ported  by  the  bravery  and  vigilance  of  the  admirals  Hyde  Parker  e  id 
Rowley.  On  the  37th  of  July  an  indecisive  action  was  fought  off  Brest. 
between  the  French  fleet,  under  M.  d'Orvilliers,  and  a  British  squadron, 
under  Admiral  Keppel.  Sir  Hugh  Palliscr,  the  second  in  command,  ac- 
cused the  admiral  of  not  having  done  his  duty;  he  was  accordingly  tried 
by  a  court-martial,  and  honourably  acquitted ;  in  fact,  it  appeared  that  he 
had  been  so  badly  supported  by  Palliser,  that  he  was  unable  to  make  any 
use  of  the  slight  advantage  he  obtained. 

Sir  Charles  Hardy,  a  brave  and  experienced  officer,  whose  services  had 
been  rewarded  with  the  governorship  of  Greenwich  i  spital,  was  ap- 
pointed to  succeed  Keppel  in  the  command  of  the  channel  fleet.  In  thr 
meantime,  the  Spanish  court  was  prevailed  on  by  the  French  to  take  up 
arms  in  defence  of  America,  and  to  accede  to  the  general  confederacy 
against  Great  Britain.  As  the  danger  to  which  the  nation  was  now  ex- 
posed was  become  truly  alarming,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  raise  volun- 
teer companies  in  addition  to  the  militia,  and  in  this  the  spirit  and  mag- 
nanimity of  the  people  reflected  great  credit  on  the  national  character. 
Strengthened  by  the  alliance  of  Spain,  the  French  began  to  extend  theii 
ideas  of  conquest,  and  thinking  that  a  blow  near  at  hand  was  more  likely 
than  operations  carried  on  at  a  distance  to  alarm  the  fears  of  the  English, 
they  made  attempts  on  the  islands  of  Guernsey  and  Jersey,  but  in  eacli 
they  were  completely  frustrated. 

But  the  old  enemies  of  Britain  had  grown  arrogant  durm'g  the  unnatu- 
ral contest  that  was  waged  with  the  unruly  scions  of  her  own  stock,  and 
preparations  were  now  made  for  Britain  itself.  A  junction  was  etfectcd 
between  the  French  and  Spanish  fleets,  which  made  their  appearance  in 
the  channel,  to  the  number  of  sixty  sail  of  the  line  besides  frigates.  Tliis 
formidable  armament  was  opposed  by  a  force  muchinferiot,  under  Admi- 
ral Hardy,  who  leisurely  retired  up  the  channel,  enticing  them  to  follow 
him,  but,  with  all  their  immense  superiority,  they  chose  rather  to  decline 
an  encounter;  it  is  true  they  fur  some  time  continued  to  menace  and 
msult  the  British  coasts  with  impunity,  but  without  accomplishing  anything 
furth'r  than  the  capture  of  the  Ardent  man-of-war,  w>  ch  by  acrideiit 
had  f  illen  in  with  the  combined  fleets. 


THR  TRKA8URY  O^  HISTORY. 


661 


In  calling  the  reader'a  attention  to  tlio  Btatp  of  iho  continent  at  thii  p«»- 
tiod,  we  have  to  notice  tliat  the  peace  which  folioweil  the  miMnorahlo 
"icven  years'  war"  was  toniporariiy  menaced  hy  ihc  cfTorla  of  ihe  empe 
ror  Joseph  to  obtain  posHcssion  of  Uavari-'i ;  but  the  prompt  interference 
of  the  king  of  Prussia,  who  brought  nito  the  fieM  an  iniineiise  army, 
together  with  the  remonstrances  of  Uussia,  uiid  the  imwillingncss  of 
France  to  second  the  ambitious  designs  of  Austria,  induced  the  emperor 
to  abandon  his  aggressive  intentions. 

A.  D.  1780. — The  first  business  of  importance  that  came  before  the  par- 
liament this  year  was  the  state  of  Indand,  which  brought  from  liord  North 
apian  of  amelioration  that  met  with  the  approbation  of  the  house,  and,  as 
it  opened  lier  ports  for  the  im|)ort  and  export  of  her  manufactures,  tho 
change  was  hailed  as  a  happy  omen  for  tin*  sister  kingdom.  The  next 
subject  for  legislative  discussion  was  the  wasteful  and  extravagant  expen 
diture  in  the  difTercnt  official  departments  of  the  state  ;  and  the  eloquence 
aiid  financial  knowledge  of  Mr.  Burke,  were  amply  displayed  in  a  plan 
for  general  reform,  which  was  seconded  by  petitions  from  various  parts 
of  the  kingdom,  praying  for  a  change  of  men  as  well  as  measures.  Uut 
at  this  crisis  the  attention  of  all  parties  was  attracted  by  a  sudden  alarm. 
Sir  George  Saville  had  in  the  preceding  session  proposed  a  bill  to  repeal 
the  act  of  William  III.,  which  imposed  certain  penalties  and  disabilities 
uii  the  Roman  catholics,  and  which  passed  both  houses  without  opposi- 
tion. The  loyal  conduct  of  this  body  of  his  majesty's  subjects,  and  their 
readiness  to  risk  their  lives  and  fortunes  in  defence  of  their  king  and 
country,  were  generally  acknowledifed ;  but  in  consequence  of  the  popu- 
lation  of  Scotland  expressing  a  dread  of  granting  toleration  to  papists,  the 
bill  did  not  extend  to  that  kingdom.  This  encouraged  a  set  of  fanatics 
ill  England  to  form  themselves  into  an  association,  whose  professed  ob- 
ject was  to  protect  the  protestant  religion,  by  revising  the  intolerant 
statutes  which  before  existed  against  the  Koinan  catholics.  The  great 
itiHJoriiy  of  the  members  of  this  "  protestant  association"  were  at  the  time 
correctly  described  as  "outrageously  zealous  and  grossly  ignorant" — 
persons  who,  had  they  been  unassisted  uy  any  one  of  rank  or  influence, 
would  have  sunk  into  oblivion  from  their  own  insignificance;  but  Lord 
George  Gordon,  a  young  nobleman  of  a  wild  and  fervid  imagination,  or, 
more  correctly,  perhaps,  one  who  on  religious  topics  was  a  monomaniac, 
finding  this  "association"  would  be  likely  to  aflTord  him  an  excellent  op- 
portunity of  standing  forth  as  the  champion  of  the  protestant  faith,  and 
thereby  gaining  a  good  share  of  mob-notoriety,  joined  the  club,  and  tlius 
raised  it  into  temporary  importance.  He  became  their  chairman,  and, 
free  from  even  the  apprehension  of  any  fatal  results,  he  proposed  in  a 
meeting  of  the  society  at  Coachmaker's-hall,  on  the  29th  of  May,  that 
they  should  assemble  in  St.  George's  Fields  at  10  o'clock  on  the  2d  of 
June,  when  they  should  accompany  him  with  a  petition  to  the  house  of 
connnons,  praying  a  repeal  of  the  late  act  of  toleration  granted  to  tho 
Roman  catholics. 

On  the  following  Friday,  the  day  appointed  for  this  display  of  "  moral 
force,"  the  lembers  of  the  house  were  much  surprised — although  there 
was  every  reason,  after  this  public  notice,  to  expect  nothing  less — to  per- 
ceive the  approach  of  fifty  thousand  persons  distinguished  by  blue  cock- 
ades in  their  hats,  with  the  inscription,  "No  Popery."  Lord  George  pre- 
sented the  petition  to  the  house,  and  moved  that  it  he  taken  into  immedi- 
ate consideration ;  but  his  motion  was  rej(!cted  by  lOi!  votes  to  fi.  During 
the  discussion  his  lordship  frequently  addressed  the  mob  outside,  and  told 
them  the  people  of  Scotland  had  no  redress  till  they  pulled  down  the 
catholic  chapels.  Acting  upon  this  su'jgf.stion,  the  populace  proceeded 
to  deiiiolish  and  burn  the  chapels  of  the  foreign  ambassadors.  On  the  fol- 
lowing Monday  the  number  of  the  mob  was  greatly  increased  by  the  idle 


TUB  THEABUHY  OF  HI8TOUY 


■nd  the  profligate,  who  Rre  over  ready  for  riot  and  plunder.  Thpir  vio. 
lenco  waa  now  no  longer  ronfliicd  to  tho  catholicn,  hut  wan  pxcrtnd 
wherever  they  could  do  iuohI  inischier.  They  proceeded  to  Newj^aie, 
Biid  demanded  the  immediHle  rcleane  of  aueh  of  their  aaaociateii  hs  haij 
been  confined  there.  On  reeeiving  a  refuHal  llity  hegan  to  throw  firehriiiidd 
and  conihuslihleH  into  the  kecper'n  dweliing-hoiisu.  The  whole  building 
was  noon  enveloped  in  fliinicn,  and  in  the  interval  of  confuaiou  and  diHiiiay 
all  the  prisioiierR,  amoiuiting  to  upwards  of  three  hundred,  made  their  eg 
cape  and  joined  the  rioters.  The  New.Pri«on,  Clerkenwell,  the  King'n 
Bench,  the  Fleet  prison,  and  New-Hridewell,  were  also  set  on  fire;  and 
many  private  houses  shared  the  same  fate ;  in  nhort,  on  that  night  lionduti 
was  beheld  blazing;  in  no  less  than  thirty-six  different  places  at  once.  At 
length  they  attempted  (he  Bank,  but  the  soldiers  there  inflicted  a  severe 
chastisement  on  them.  The  military  eame  in  from  the  country,  and,  in 
obedience  to  an  order  of  the  king  in  council,  directions  were  given  to  thu 
officers  to  fire  upon  the  rioters  without  waiting  the  sanction  of  the  civil 
power.  Not  only  had  the  most  fearful  ap|)rchensions  been  excited,  and 
great  injury  done,  but  the  character  of  the  nation  in  the  eyes  of  foreign 
powers  could  not  fail  to  suflei  almost  indelible  disgrace  from  such  brutal 
and  tumultuous  scenes.  It  was  not  uniil  a  week  had  elapsed  that  tran- 
quillity was  restored,  when  it  was  found  that  458  persons  had  been  kilird 
or  wounded,  exclusive  of  those  who  perished  from  intoxication.  Under  h 
warrant  of  the  secretaries  of  state,  liOrd  George  Gordon  was  committed 
to  the  Tower  on  a  charge  of  high  treason ;  but  when  brought  to  trial  the 
charge  could  not  be  sustained,  and  this  most  mischievous  person  vim 
acquitted.  However,  though  he  escaped  punishment  for  these  proceed- 
ings, he  was  afterwards  imprisoned  for  a  libel  on  the  queen  of  Franco, 
and  ended  his  days  in  Newgate.  Out  of  the  rioters  who  were  tried  and 
found  guilty,  twenty-five  of  the  most  violent  were  hanged. 

We  gladly  turn  from  these  scenes  of  civil  tumult  to  a  more  agreeable 
part  of  an  historian's  duly.  The  commencement  of  the  year  was  attended 
with  some  considerable  naval  advantages  to  Great  Britain.  The  fleet 
under  the  command  of  Sir  Hyde  Parker  engaged  a  French  squadron  in 
the  West  Indies,  and  captured  nine  merchantmen.  The  success  which 
attended  Admiral  Rodney  was  more  important.  On  the  16th  of  January 
tie  attacked,  off  Cape  St.  Vincent,  a  Spanish  fleet,  consisting  of  eleven 
ships  of  the  line,  captured  four  of  them,  drove  two  more  on  shore,  and 
burned  another;  thence  proceeding  to  America,  he  thrice  encountered  the 
French  fleet,  under  the  count  de  Guichen  and  though  he  obtained  no  ile- 
cisive  success,  he  prevented  Washington  from  receiving  naval  aid  in  his 
meditated  attack  on  New- York.  A  very  severe  loss  was  soon  after  sus- 
tained by  the  English:  on  the  8th  of  August  the  Spanish  fleet  fell  in  with 
the  trade-fleet  bound  for  the  East  and  West  Indies,  the  whole  of  which, 
consisting  of  fifty-four  merchantmen,  was  captured;  their  convoy,  the 
Ramillies  of  74  guns,  and  two  frigates,  alone  escaping. 

The  operations  of  the  war,  taken  altogether,  notwithstanding  the  pow- 
erful alliance  against  Great  Britain,  had  hitherto  been  supported  with 
vigour  and  magnanimity.  Yet  while  England  was  frustrating  every  attempt 
of  her  open  and  declared  enemies,  a  confederhcy  was  formed  tbrouglioiit 
Europe,  which,  as  it  acted  indirectly,  could  not  well  be  resisted.  This 
confederacy,  termed  the  "armed  neutrality,"  was  planned  by  the  empress 
of  Russia,  who  issued  a  manifesto,  asserting  the  right  of  neutral  vessels 
to  trade  freely  to  and  from  all  ports  belonging  to  belligerent  powers,  ex- 
cept such  as  were  actually  in  a  state  of  blockade  ;  and  that  all  efliects  be- 
longing to  the  subjects  of  the  belligerent  powers  should  be  looked  upon 
as  free  on  board  such  ships,  excepting  only  such  goods  as  were  contra- 
band ;  in  other  words,  that "  free  vessels  were  to  make  free  merchandise." 
Russia,  Denmark,  and  Sweden  were  the  first  to  bind  themselves  to  the 


•onditi 
courts 

Kiiglaii 
ican  wi 
proof  V 
ci)iigre.> 
their  p( 

A.  D. 

uas  reii 


THB  TRRAStfRY  OK  HIrtTORY. 


6«:< 


•onditioni*  of  thin  l)';i|{U(< .  liollaitil  quickly  rofDwiMl  tho  example;  ilw 
rourtti  i>(  Vienna,  Hprliii,  N.tplcs,  anil,  hiMily,  PurtuKal,  ihe  oMent  ally  of 
KiikI  iikI,  joint'il  till!  uHHoi-iatioii.  Kruni  tli«-  coinmcnccnxMit  of  the  Amer- 
ican wnr  till!  lAiU'h  huit  hIiowii  urtial  partiality  to  the  rovoUen,  am)  ui 
proof  wart  at  length  obtained  of  their  having  roiicludeil  a  treaty  with  the 
coiiKreHH,  the  lliii{li<th  Kovernmeiit  ihlirmined  on  takiiiif  ven|{eani-o  for 
thi'ir  perffily.  and  war  waH  instantly  diclared  agaiiiHt  them. 

A,  D-  I7rtl.— At  the  eoi  iinencement  of  this  year  the  war  in  Ameriea 
was  renewed  with  variouu  suceesa.  The  pru([reis  of  the  Uritish  foncH 
under  Lord  Cornwallis,  in  Virginia  and  the  Carolinan,  had  raised  great 
^xpei-tutiuna  of  triumph  in  Kngluiid,  and  had  pruporlionably  depressed  the 
AiiiericaiiH;  hut  the  Hritish  general  had  to  contend  against  the  united 
orces  of  Franec  and  her  trans-atlantic  ally,  and  though  he  ubtaiiu^d  Noine 
fresh  laurels,  his  sucectses  were  rendered  iiienfectual  by  his  subHeijiieiii 
reverses.  At  length,  after  making  a  motit  vigorous  resistance  against 
overwhelming  numbers,  while  defending  Vorktown,  where  he  had  for- 
tified himself,  liu  was  compelled  to  capitulate,  when  the  whole  of  his  army 
luicame  prisoners  of  war  to  Washington,  and  the  Hritish  vessels  in  the 
!iarb()nr  surrendered  to  the  French  Admiral  dc  Orasse.  As  no  rational 
expectation  of  subjugating  America  now  remained,  the  military  operation!* 
in  that  quarter  of  the  globe  were  regarded  as  of  comparatively  little  con- 
sequence. 

Immediately  after  the  declaration  of  war  against  Holland,  Admiral  Rod- 
ney, ill  conjunction  with  General  Vaughan,  attacked  the  important  sellh!- 
ineiit  of  Kustatia,  which  surrendered  to  tlicin  without  resistance.  The 
iinmeiiso  property  found  there  surpassed  the  most  sanguine  expectation^ 
of  the  captors  ;  but  it  unfortunately  happened,  that  as  the  riches  aoiiiiircd 
on  this  occasion  were  on  their  transit  to  Kngland,  the  ships  conveying  it 
were  intercepted  by  the  French,  and  twenty-one  of  tlicin  were  taken.  On 
the  Gth  of  the  following  August  Admiral  Hyde  Parker  fell  in  with  a  Dutch 
squadron  off  tiic  Doggers'  Hank,  and  a  most  desperate  engagement  took 
place;  the  contest  was  fiercely  maintained  for  two  hours,  when  the  Dutch 
bore  away  for  the  Tcxel  with  their  convoy,  and  the  English  were  too 
much  disabled  to  pursue  them. 

A.  D.  1782. — Though  the  enemies  of  Great  Britain  had  at  this  time  gained 
decided  advantages  by  land,  and  in  numerical  force  possessed  a  manifest 
superiority  by  sea,  yet  such  was  the  courage,  perseverance,  and  power 
with  which  she  contended  against  them  single-handed,  that  notwithstand- 
ing the  recent  disasters  in  America,  and  the  enormous  expenditure  neces- 
sary to  carry  on  iso  fierce  and  extensive  a  warfare,  the  splendour  of  ihr 
nation  suffered  no  diminution,  and  exploits  of  individual  heroism  and 
brilliant  victories  continued  to  gladden  the  hearts  of  all  who  cherished  a 
love  of  their  country's  glory.  At  the  same  time  popular  clamour  and  dis- 
content ruse  to  a  high  pilch  on  account  of  the  depressed  state  of  trade 
which  the  armed  neutrality  had  caused,  while  invectives  against  tlic 
government  for  the  mal-administration  of  affairs,  as  regarded  the  American 
war,  were  loud  and  deep.  The  whig  opposition,  making  an  adroit  use  ol 
these  disasters  against  Lord  North  and  his  tory  friends,  induced  them  to 
resign,  and  about  the  end  of  March  they  were  succeeded  by  the  marquis 
of  Hocki:igham,  as  first  lord  of  the  treasury,  the  earl  of  Shelburne  and 
Mr.  Fox,  principal  secretaries  of  state,  and  Lord  Thurlow,  lord  chancellor; 
besides  Lord  Camden,  the  dukes  of  Richmond  and  Grafton,  Mr.  Burkt, 
Admiral  Keppel,  General  Conway,  &c.,  to  fill  the  other  most  important 
posts.  The  present  ministry,  however,  had  not  continued  in  office  above 
three  months  before  a  material  change  was  occasioned  by  the  death  ot 
the  marquis  of  Rockingham.  The  earl  of  Shelburne  being  appointed  to 
eucceed  that  nobleman,  his  colleagues  took  offence,  and  Lord  Cavendish, 
Mr.  Fox,  Mr.  Burke,  and  several  others  resiy:iied.     Mr.  Townshend  wasi 


0f>4 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


then  made  sncretary  of  state,  and  Mr.  Pitt,  second  son  of  Lord  Chatham, 
succeeded  Lord  Cavendish  in  the  office  of  chancellor  of  the  exchequer. 

Negotiations  for  peace  were  now  commenced  by  the  new  ministry,  but 
without  at  all  rehixing  in  their  efforts  to  support  the  war.  The  islands  of 
Minorca,  St.  Nevis,  and  St.  Christopher's  were  taken  by  the  French;  and 
%  descent  on  Jamaica  was  meditated  with  a  fleet  of  thirty-four  ships,  they 
were,  however,  fortunately  met  by  Admiral  Rodney  off  Dominica,  and  a 
most  desperate  engagement  ensued,  of  nearly  twelve  hours'  continuance, 
which  terminated  in  the  total  defeat  of  the  French ;  their  admiral.  Count 
de  Grasse,  being  taken  prisoner,  with  the  Ville  de  Paris,  besides  six  other 
ships  of  the  line  and  two  frigates.  In  this  action  the  bold  nautical  ma- 
noeuvre  of  breaking  the  line  and  attacking  the  enemy  on  both  sides  at 
once,  was  first  tried  and  successfully  executed.  This  glorious  action  was 
fought  on  the  12th  of  April ;  and  about  the  same  period,  the  fleet  under 
Admiral  Barrington  captured,  off  Ushant,  two  large  French  men-of-war. 
with  ten  sail  of  vessels  under  their  convoy. 

During  this  period  the  arms  of  Spain  had  been  more  than  usually  suc- 
cessful. In  America  they  conquered  the  English  fortresses  on  the  Missis- 
sippi, as  well  as  Pensacola  and  all  Florida.  But  all  their  efforts,  in  com- 
bination with  their  French  allies,  against  Gibraltar,  proved  fruitless;  its 
brave  governor,  General  Elliott,  returning  their  tremendous  cannonade 
with  a  well-directed  and  impetuous  discharge  of  red-hot  balls  from  the 
fortress,  thereby  utterly  destroying  the  floating  batteries  which  the  be- 
siegers had  vainly  boasted  were  irresistible.  Ever  and  anon  during  the 
last' five  years  this  memorable  siege  had  been  carried  on ;  but  on  the  day 
after  this  memorable  bombardment  and  defence  (Sept.  13),  not  a  vestige  of 
all  their  formidable  preparations  remained. 

In  the  East,  Hyder  Ally  had  succeeded  in  gaining  the  capital  of  Arcot, 
and  his  success  gave  him  strong  hope  that  he  should  drive  the  British 
from  that  part  of  the  globe;  but  Sir  Eyre  Coote  was  victorious  in  more 
than  one  decisive  engagement  with  Hyder,  whose  death  soon  after  gave 
the  government  to  his  son  Tippoo  Saib ;  and  as  he  appeared  somewhat 
disposed  to  be  on  good  terms  with  England,  affairs  there  wore  a  bettei 
aspect.    Still  the  war  in  the  East  had  a  humiliating  termination. 

Some  serious  casual  disasters  occurred  during  the  course  of  the  year. 
Four  large  ships  foundered  at  sea  on  their  return  from  the  West  Indies; 
and  the  Royal  George,  of  100  guns,  a  fine  ship  which  had  been  in  port 
to  refit,  was,  while  careening  at  Spithead,  overset  by  a  gust  of  wind,  and 
about  700  persons,  with  Admiral  Kempenfelt,  were  drowned. 

A.  D.  1783. — The  famous  "  coalition  ministry,"  of  incongruous  celebrity, 
was  now  formed  ;  the  duke  of  Portland  being  first  lord  of  the  treasury; 
Lord  North  and  Mr.  Fox,  ^oin/ secretaries  of  state;  Lord  John  Cavendish, 
chancellor  of  the  exchequer ;  Viscount  Keppel,  first  lord  of  the  admiralty; 
Viscount  Stormont,  president  of  the  council ;  and  the  earl  of  Carlisle,  lord 
privy-seal.  These  seven  constituted  the  new  cabinet,  the  whigs  having 
a  majority  of  one  over  the  three  tories.  North,  Carlisle,  and  Stormont. 
It  was  an  ill-assorted  and  insincere  compact,  an  abandonment  of  principle 
for  power,  which  soon  lost  them  the  confidence  and  support  of  the  nation. 

Negotiations  for  a  general  peace  commenced  at  Paris,  under  tiie  auspi- 
ces of  Austria  and  Russia;  and  the  basis  of  it  being  arranged,  it  was 
ripcedily  ratified.  Great  Britain  restored  the  island  of  St.  Lucia  to  Fraiicp 
also  the  settlements  on  the  Senegal,  and  the  city  of  Pondicherry,  in  tne 
East  Indies  ;  while  France  gave  up  all  her  West  India  conquests,  wiilitlie 
exccijlinM  of  Tobago.  Spain  retained  Minorca  and  West  Florida,  East 
Florida  being  also  ceded  in  exchange  for  the  Bahamas.  And  between 
England  and  Holland  a  suspension  of  hostilities  was  agreed  to  in  the  first 
place  ;  but  i'l  the  sequel  it  was  stipulated  that  there  should  be  a  general 
restitution  ot  all  places  taken  during  the  war,  excepting  the  town  ol 


THK  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


666 


Nsgapatam,  with  its  depondcncics,  which  should  be  ceded   V\    'Jroat 
Britain. 

Ill  the  treaty  with  America,  the  king  of  Great  Britain  acknowledged  the 
thirteen  Unittid  States  to  be  "  free,  sovereign,  and  independent,"  relin- 
quishing for  himself,  his  heirs,  and  successors,  all  ri<rht  and  claim  to  the 
SHine.  To  prevent  disputes  in  future  on  the  subject  of  boundaries  between 
these  states  and  the  adjoining  provinces,  lines  were  minutely  drawn ;  the 
right  of  navigation  on  the  Mississippi  was  declared  free ;  and  no  confisca- 
tions or  persecutions  of  the  loyalists  were  to  take  place. 

Such  was  the  termination  of  the  contest  between  Great  Britain  and  the 
American  colonies ;  a  contest  in  which  the  former  lost  upwards  of  one 
hundred  millions  of  money,  and  through  which  a  federative  stale  of  vrfst 
extent  and  power  sprung  into  existence.  But  great  as  the  change  was, 
the  mother-country  had  ultimately  little  real  cause  to  regret  the  detach- 
ment of  the  thirteen  provinces  :  freedom  of  commercial  relations,  advan- 
tageous to  both  countries,  superseded  a  right  of  sovereignty  whicii,  in 
reality,  was  of  far  less  value  than  it  appeared  to  be.  In  short,  the  com- 
merce of  England,  instead  of  being  destroyed  by  the  war  of  independence, 
increased  most  rapidly,  and  English  trade  was  never  more  prosperous  than 
in  the  period  that  succeeded  the  loss  of  the  colonies.  The  Canadas  and 
Nova-Scotia  shared  in  the  rising  prosperity  of  America,  and  the  West 
India  islands,  emancipated  from  unwise  commercial  restrictions,  also 
rapidly  improved. 

The  coalition  ministry  was  now  to  be  subjected  to  a  severe  test.  Mr. 
Fox  thought  proper  to  introduce  to  parliament  two  bills  for  the  better  gov- 
ernment of  India,  by  which  the  entire  administration  of  the  civil  and  com- 
mercial affairs  of  the  company  were  to  be  vested  in  a  board  of  nine  mem- 
bers, chosen  for  four  years,  and  not  removable  without  an  address  from 
cither  house  of  parliament.  That  such  a  board  would  be  an  independent 
authority  in  the  state  was  quite  manifest,  and  it  accordingly  met  with  a 
determined  opposition,  particularly  in  the  house  of  lords,  where  Lord 
Thurlow  observed,  that  if  the  bill  passed,  the  crown  would  be  no  longer 
worthy  of  a  man  of  honour  to  wear ;  that  "the  king  would,  in  fact,  take 
the  diadem  from  his  own  head,  and  place  it  on  that  of  Mr.  Fox."  The 
bill  was  thrown  out  by  the  lords,  and  this  was  immediately  followed  by  a 
message  from  the  king  requiring  Mr.  Fox  and  Lord  North  to  send  in  their 
seals  of  office  by  the  under  secretaries,  as  "  a  personal  interview  with  him 
would  be  disagreeable."  Early  the  next  morning  letters  of  dismission 
were  sent  to  the  other  members  of  the  cabinet. 

A.  D.  1784. — A  new  administration  was  now  formed,  in  which  Mr.  Pitt 
was  appointed  first  lord  of  the  treasury  and  chancellor  of  the  exchequer. 
Lord  Sydney  (late  Mr.  Townshend)  and  the  marquis  of  Carmarthen,  were 
made  secretaries  of  state  ;  Lord  Thurlow,  lord  high-chancellor;  the  duke 
of  Rutland,  privy-seal;  Earl  Gower,  president  of  the  council ;  the  duke  of 
Richmond,  master  of  the  ordnance ;  Lord  Howe,  first  lord  of  the  admi- 
ralty, and  Mr.  Dnndas,  treasurer  of  the  navy.  It  being,  however,  impos- 
sible to  carry  on  public  business  while  the  coalition  party  had  a  majority 
in  the  house  of  commons,  a  dissolution  of  parliament  became  unavoidable. 
The  elections  turned  out  favourably  for  the  new  ministers,  and  when 
the  parliament  assembled,  his  majesty  met  the  representatives  of  the  peo- 
ple with  evident  satisfaction.  He  directed  their  attention  to  the  affairs  of 
the  East  India  Company,  advising  them  at  the  same  time  to  reject  all  such 
measures  as  might  affect  the  constitution  at  home.  Mr.  Pitt  had  strenu- 
ously opposed  Mr.  Fox's  India  bill,  and  now  finding  himself  ably  sup- 
ported, framed  a  new  one  for  the  government  of  India,  which  transferred 
to  the  crown  the  influence  which  Mr.  Fox  had  designed  to  intrust  to  par- 
liamentary commissioners,  but  leaving  the  whole  management  of  com* 
uiercial  affairs  with  the  court  of  directors. 


<66 


THB  TIIBA8URY  OF  HISTOKY. 


A.  D.  1786.  — Early  in  the  session  Mr.  Pitt  introduced  to  parliament  his 
celebrated  plan  of  a  "sinking  fund"  for  the  gradual  reduction  of  the  na- 
tional  debt.  It  appeared  that  the  condition  of  the  revenue  was  in  so  flour- 
ishinsr  a  state,  that  the  annual  receipts  exceeded  the  expenditure  by 
900,000/.  It  was  therefore  proposed  that  this  sum  should  be  increased  to 
one  million,  and  placed  in  the  hands  of  commissioners  appointed  for  the 
purpose,  to  be  applied  to  the  discharge  of  the  national  debt.  After  some 
opposition,  and  an  amendment  suggested  by  Mr.  Fox,  the  bill  passed. 

On  the  2d  of  August,  as  the  king  was  alighting  from  his  carriage,  a 
woman  approached  him  under  pretence  of  offering  a  petition,  and  at- 
tempted to  stab  him  with  a  knife  she  had  concealed.  His  majesty  avoided 
th^  blow  by  drawing  back,  when  she  made  another  thrust  at  him,  but  was 
prevented  from  effecting  her  purpose  by  a  yeoman  of  the  guards  who 
seized  her  at  the  instant.  On  being  examined  before  the  privy  council,  it 
appeared  that  she  was  a  lunatic,  her  name  Margaret  Nicholson. 

Nothing  at  this  period  excited  equal  interest  to  the  trial  of  Mr.  Hastings, 
the  governor  of  Bengal,  who  had  returned  to  England,  possessed,  as  it 
was  asserted,  of  inordinate  wealth,  obtained  by  unfair  means.  The  trial 
was  conducted  by  Mr.  Burke,  who  exhibited  twenty-two  articles  of  im, 
peachment  against  him.  On  the  part  of  the  prosecution  Mr.  Sheridan 
appeared  vindictively  eloquent.  He  said,  "  The  administration  of  Mr. 
Hastings  formed  a  medley  of  meanness  and  outrage,  of  duplicity  and 
depredation,  of  prodigality  and  oppression,  of  the  most  callous  cruelty, 
contrasted  with  the  hollow  affectation  of  liberality  and  good  faith.  Mr.' 
Hastings,  in  his  defence,  declared,  "  That  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  all 
his  measures  terminate  in  their  designed  objects  ;  that  his  political  con- 
duct  was  invariably  regulated  by  truth,  justice,  and  good  faith,  and  that 
he  resigned  his  charge  in  a  state  of  established  peace  and  security,  with 
all  the  sources  of  its  abundance  unimpaired,  and  even  improved."  The 
trial  lasted  seven  years,  and  ended  in  the  acquittal  of  Mr.  Hastings,  at 
least  of  all  intentional  error;  but  his  fortune  and  his  health  were  ruined 
by  this  protracted  prosecution. 

The  debts  of  the  prince  of  Wales  engrossed  much  of  the  public  atten- 
tion  at  this  period.  His  expensive  habits  and  munificent  disposition  had 
brought  his  affairs  into  a  very  embarrassed  state ;  and  the  subject  having 
undergone  parliamentary  discussion,  an  addition  of  50,000/.  was  made  to 
his  former  income  of  50,000/.,  and  the  sum  of  181,000/.  was  granted  by 
parliament  for  the  payment  of  his  debts. 

A.  D.  1788. — An  event  occurred  about  this  time  in  Holland  which 
threatened  the  tranquillity  of  Europe.  Ever  since  the  acknowledgemem 
of  the  independence  of  the  United  Provinces,  two  powerful  parties  had 
been  continually  struggling  for  the  superiority;  one  was  the  house  ol 
Orange,  which  had  been  raised  to  power  by  their  great  services  to  the 
state,  both  against  the  tyranny  of  Spain  and  the  efforts  of  France ;  the 
other  was  the  aristocratical  party,  which  consisted  of  the  most  wealthy 
individuals  in  the  country.  This  party  was  secretly  favoured  by  France, 
and  was  denominated  the  "party  of  the  states," or  "  the  republican  party," 
The  prince  of  Orange  being  at  length  compelled  to  leave  the  Hague,  he 
applied  to  England  and  Prussia  for  protection,  who  lent  their  aid,  and  the 
Btadtholder  was  reinstated. 

It  was  during  this  session  that  the  attention  of  parliament  was  first  en- 
gaged in  attempting  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade.  It  was  first  pointed 
out  by  the  Quakers  in  the  independ<!nt  provinces  of  South  America,  wiio 
ia  many  instances  had  emancipated  their  slaves.  A  number  of  pamphlets 
were  published  on  the  subject ;  several  divines  of  the  established  church 
recommended  it  in  their  discourses  •  the  two  universities,  and  after  chem 
the  whole  nation,  presented  petitions  praying  for  the  interference  of  par- 
iament  to  forward  the  humane  design  of  African  emancipation.    Mr 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


CRT 


Wilberforce  brought  the  subject  before  parliament;  but  as  many  circum 
(tances  arose  to  retard  the  consideration  of  it,  a  resolution  was  carried 
to  defer  it  till  a  future  opportunity. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  the  nation  was  thrown  into  great  dismay 
by  the  fact  that  the  king  was  suffering  under  a  severe  mental  malady ;  so 
much  80,  that  on  the  4th  of  November  it  was  necessary  to  consult  the 
most  eminent  physicians,  and  to  assemble  the  principal  officers  of  state. 
His  majesty's  disorder  not  abating,  but  the  contrary  appearing  from  the 
examination  of  the  physicians  before  the  privy  council,  the  house  twice 
adjourned;  but  hearing  on  their  re-assembling  the  second  time  that  there 
was  a  great  prospect  of  his  majesty's  recovery,  though  the  time  was  un- 
certain, both  houses  turned  their  thoughts  to  the  establishment  of  a  re- 
gent during  his  majesty's  incapacity.  The  right  of  the  prince  of  Wales 
to  this  office  was  asserted  by  Mr.  Fox,  and  denied  by  Mr.  Pitt,  who  af- 
firmed that  for  any  man  to  assert  such  a  right  in  the  prince  of  Wales  was 
little  less  than  treason  to  the  constitution.  After  violent  altercations,  a 
modified  regency  was  carried  in  favour  of  the  prince ;  the  queen  to  have 
the  custody  of  the  royal  person,  and  the  appointment  to  places  in  fhe 
household.  For  the  present,  however,  these  arrangements  wore  not 
needed,  for  the  health  of  the  king  was  rapidly  improving,  and  on  tht;  10th 
of  March  his  majesty  sent  a  message  to  parliament,  to  acquaint  them  of 
his  recovery,  and  of  his  ability  to  attend  to  the  public  business  of  thei 
kingdom. 

A.  D.  1789. — According  to  a  promise  given  by  the  king,  that  the  British 
constitution  should  be  extended  to  Canada,  that  province  now  applied  fi 
a  form  of  legislature.  For  the  better  accommodation  of  its  inhabitants 
Mr.  Pitt  proposed  to  divide  the  province  into  Upper  and  Lower  Canada, 
and  to  provide  separate  laws  which  might  suit  the  French-Canadian  no- 
blesse on  the  one  hand,  and  the  British  and  American  colonists  on  tlie 
other.  In  the  course  of  the  discussion,  Mr.  Fox  observed  that  it  would 
be  wrong  to  abolish  hereditary  distinctions  where  they  had  been  long  es- 
tablished, and  equally  wrong  to  create  those  distinctions  in  a  country 
which  was  not  suited  for  their  establishment.  This  drew  from  Mr.  Burke 
the  observation  that  "  it  became  a  duly  of  parliament  to  watch  the  con- 
duct of  individuals  and  societies  disposed  to  encourage  innovations." 
Mr.  Fox  thinking  these  sentiments  contained  a  censure  on  him,  defended 
his  opinions  by  a  full  explanation  of  his  sentiments  on  the  French  revo- 
lution. Mr.  Burke  had  previously  written  a  work,  intended  to  operate  as 
an  iintidote  to  the  growing  evils  of  republicanism  and  infidelity.  In  par- 
liament he  denounced  the  insidious  cry  of  liberty  and  equality,  and  a 
breach  was  thus  made  in  the  long-cemented  friendship  of  these  two  dis 
tinguished  statesmen  which  ever  after  remained  unclosed. 

A.  D.  1790. — At  this  period  France  had  begun  to  exhibit  scenes  of  an- 
archy and  confusion,  which,  for  monstrous  wickedness  and  wide-spread 
misery,  never  before  had  their  parallel  in  the  world's  history.  A  con- 
densed narrative  of  those  revolutionary  horrors  will  be  found  under  the 
proper  head.  We  shall  here  simply  observe,  en  passant,  that  the  progress 
of  free-thinking,  miscalled  philosopliy,  which  had  been  much  encouraged 
in  that  country  during  the  last  century,  had  diffused  a  spirit  of  innovation 
and  licentiousness  that  was  highly  unfavourable  to  the  existence  of  au 
absolute  monarchy.  Moreover,  the  participation  of  France  in  the  Amer 
ican  struggle  for  independence,  had  instilled  into  the  minds  of  the  Gallo. 
American  champions  of  liberty  a  perfect  detestation  of  regal  authority, 
and  on  their  return  from  that  vaunted  land  of  freedom,  they  imparted  to 
their  couutrymen  the  spirit  of  liberty  which  had  been  kindled  in  the  wes- 
tern hemisphere.  But,  perhaps,  the  more  immediate  cause  of  this  wild 
ebullition  of  popular  fury  arose  from  the  embarrassed  state  of  the  finances. 


668 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


which  iiidnned  Louis  XVI.  to  tisseinble  the  states-general,  in  order  to 
consider  the  measures  by  which  thir,  serious  evil  might  be  remedied. 

During  the  present  session,  a  message  from  the  king  informed  the  house 
of  some  hostile  proceedings  on  the  part  of  Spain,  who  had  seized  three 
British  ships  that  wery  endeavoring  to  establish  a  foreign  trade  between 
China  and  Nootka  Sound,  on  the  west  coast  of  North  America,  the  Span- 
iards  insisting  on  their  exclusive  right  to  that  part  of  the  coast.  Orders 
were  immediately  issued  for  augmenting  the  British  navy ;  but  the  ex- 
pected rupture  between  the  two  countries  was  averted  by  timely  conces- 
sions on  the  part  of  Spain. 

A  new  parliament  having  met  on  the  20th  of  November,  the  king,  after 
making  some  remarks  on  the  state  of  Europe,  observed  that  the  peace  of 
India  had  been  disturbed  by  a  war  with  Tippoo  Sultan,  son  of  the  late 
Ilyder  Ally.  The  business  of  the  session  was  then  entered  into,  and 
various  debates  occurred  with  respect  to  the  convention  with  Spain,  and 
the  expensive  amount  that  had  been  prepared  anticipatory  of  a  war  with 
that  power. 

A.  D.  1791. — The  whole  kingdom  was  now  divided  into  two  parties 
arising  from  the  opposite  views  in  which  the  French  revolution  was  con- 
sidered ;  one  condemning  the  promoters  of  Gallic  indepetidence  as  the 
subverters  of  all  order,  while  the  other  considered  the  new  constitution 
of  France  as  the  basis  of  a  system  of  politics,  from  which  peace,  happi. 
ress,  and  concord  would  arise  to  bless  the  world!  On  the  14lh  of  Julv, 
the  anniversary  of  the  demolition  of  the  Bastile,  the  "  friends  of  liberty" 
agreed  to  celebrate  that  event  by  festive  meetings  in  the  principal  towns 
in  the  kingdom.  These  meetings  were  rather  unfavourably  regarded  b'- 
the  opponents  of  the  revolution,  as  indicative  of  principles  inimical  to  the 
British  constitution ;  but  no  public  expression  of  disapprobation  had  yet 
appeared.  In  the  metropolis  and  most  of  the  other  towns  these  meetiiiijs 
had  passed  over  without  any  disturbance ;  but  in  the  populous  town  of 
Birmingham,  where  a  dissension  had  long  existed  between  the  high 
churchmen  and  the  dissenters,  its  consequences  were  very  alarming.  °A 
seditious  handbill  having  been  circulated  about  the  town  by  some  unknown 
person,  created  a  great  sensation.  The  friends  of  the  intended  meetiiig 
thought  it  necessary  to  disclaim  the  sentiments  contained  in  the  hand" 
bills ;  but  as  their  views  were  misrepresented,  the  hotel  in  which  the 
meeting  was  held  was  soon  surrounded  by  a  tumultuous  mob,  who  ex- 
pressed their  disapprobation  by  shouts  of  "Church  and  King!"  In  the 
evening  the  mob  demolished  a  Unitarian  meeling-house  belonging  to  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Priestly,  and  afterwards  attacked  his  dwelling-house  and 
destroyed  his  valuable  library.  For  three  days  the  rioters  continued  their 
depredations,  but  tranquillity  was  restored  on  the  arrival  of  the  military, 
and  some  of  the  ringleaders  were  executed. 

A.  D.  1792. — Parliament  assembled  Jan.  31,  and  were  agreeably  sur- 
prised by  a  declaration  of  the  minister,  that  the  finances  of  the  nation 
would  allow  him  to  take  off  taxes  to  the  amount  of  c£200,000  and  to  appro- 
priate c£400,000  towards  the  reduction  of  the  national  debt.  He  then  des- 
canted on  the  flourishing  state  and  happy  prospects  of  the  nation,  de- 
claring at  the  same  time  how  intimately  connected  its  prosperity  was 
with  the  preservation  of  peace  abroad  and  tranquillity  at  home. 

The  duke  of  York  having  at  the  close  of  the  previous  year  married  the 
princess  Fredcrica  Charlotta,  eldest  daughter  of  the  king  of  Prussin,  the 
commons  passed  a  bill  to  settle  c£25,000  per  annum  on  the  duke,  and 
jGe.OOO  on  the  duchess  should  she  survive  him.  The  house,  also,  during 
this  session,  went  into  a  committee  on  the  African  slave-trade,  and  gave 
it  as  their  opinion  that  it  should  be  abolished.  In  the  course  of  dfbate 
Mr.  Pitt  and  many  others  spoke  in  favour  of  its  immediate  abolition. 
After  many  divisions  the  term  was  limited  to  the  1st  day  of  Janu.rv, 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


609 


1796.    In  the  house  of  lords  several  of  the  peers  were  in  favour  of  its 
indefinite  continuance. 

The  war  in  India  against  Tippoo  Saib  had  lately  been  vigorously  eon- 
ducted  by  Lord  Cornwallis,  who,  having  surmounted  all  impodimcnt!*, 
commenced  the  siege  of  Scringapatam,  the  capital  of  Tippoo's  domin- 
ions. This  reduced  that  prince  to  such  difficulties  as  compelled  him  to 
conclude  peace  on  the  terms  offered  by  the  carl,  and  to  deliver  up  his  two 
ions  as  hostages  for  the  performance  of  the  conditions 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

THB  REIGN  OF  OGOROE  III.  (CONTINUED.) 

A.  D.  1790. — "  When  your  neighbour's  house  is  on  fire  it  is  well  to  look 
after  your  own,"  says  a  trite  but  wise  old  saw.  The  rapidity  with  wiiich 
the  new  political  principles  of  the  French  republicans  were  diffused 
throughout  Great  Britain,  and  the  numerous  inflammatory  libels  which 
were  issued  from  the  press,  awakened  well-grounded  apprehensions  of 
the  government,  and  induced  the  legislature  to  adopt  measures  for  the 
suppression  of  the  growing  evil.  The  moral  as  well  as  the  political  re- 
suits  of  French  republicanism  were  fast  developing;  and  every  reckless 
demagogue  was  busily  at  work,  disseminating  the  poison  of  infidelity  and 
sedition.  To  put  a  stop,  if  possible,  to  this  state  of  things,  a  royal  proc- 
lamation was  issued  for  the  suppression  of  seditious  correspondence 
abroad,  and  publications  at  home.  The  London  Corresponding  Society, 
and  various  other  societies,  had  recently  sent  congratulatory  addresses  io 
the  National  Assembly  of  France !  But  the  heart  of  England  was  still 
sound,  although  some  of  the  limbs  were  leprous. 

In  the  meantime  affairs  on  the  continent  became  every  day  more  inter- 
esting. An  alliance  was  entered  into  between  Russia,  Austrifi,  and  Prus- 
sia, the  ostensible  object  of  which  was  to  re-establish  public  security  in 
France,  with  the  ancient  order  of  thmgs,  and  to  protect  the  persons  and 
property  of  all  loyal  subjects.  On  the  25th  of  July  the  duke  of  Bruns- 
wick, commander-in-chief  of  the  allied  armies,  issued  at  Coblentz  his  cel- 
ebrated manifesto  to  the  French  people,  promising  protection  to  all  who 
should  submit  to  their  king,  and  threatening  the  city  of  Paris  with  fire  and 
sword  if  injury  or  insult  were  offered  to  him  or  any  of  his  family.  The 
republicans,  indignant  at  this  foreign  interference,  now  resolved  on  the 
king's  dethronement.  Having  by  their  mischievous  publications  turned 
the  tide  of  disgust  against  their  sovereign,  and  persuaded  the  populace 
that  the  royalists  had  invited  the  allies  to  invade  them,  the  suspension  of 
royal  authority  was  soon  after  decreed,  the  king  and  his  family  were 
closely  confined  in  the  Temple,  all  persons  who  were  attached  to  monar- 
chical government  were  cast  into  prison  or  massacred ;  and,  to  crown  the 
whole,  the  inoffensive  monarch  was  led  forth  to  execution,  and  while 
praying  to  the  Almighty  to  pardon  his  enemies,  ignoniiniously  perished 
by  the  guillotine. 

While  these  detestable  scenes  of  murder  were  dispayed  in  France,  the 
vigilance  of  the  English  government  was  excited  by  the  propagation  of 
revolutionary  principles,  and  it  was  compelled  to  employ  such  measures 
as  the  dangerous  circumstances  of  the  country  demanded.  The  sangui- 
nary conduct  of  the  French  revolutionists,  their  extravagant  projects  and 
unholy  sentiments,  naturally  alarmed  all  persons  of  rank  and  property, 
and  associations  of  all  classes  who  had  anything  to  lose,  were  formed  for 
the  protection  of  liberty  and  property  against  the  efforts  of  anarchists  and 
levellers.  But  still  there  were  many  desperate  characters  ready  to  kindle 
the  flame  of  civil  war  on  the  first  favourable  opportunity.    Another  pro 


870 


THE  TUEA8URY0F  HISTORY, 


clamation  was  therefore  issued,  in  which  it  was  stated  that  ovil-dispotei] 
persons  were  acting  in  concert  with  others  in  foreign  countries,  in  order 
to  subvert  the  laws  and  constitution  ;  and  that  a  spirit  of  tumult  and  sedi> 
tion  having  manifested  itsself  on  several  occasions,  his  majesty  had  re- 
solved to  embody  part  of  the  national  militia.  This  was,  in  fact,  a  mca- 
sure  absolutely  necessary  on  another  account,  it  being  clear  that  the 
French  republfc  had  resolved  to  provoke  England  to  a  war,  by  the  moit 
inijustifiable  breach  of  the  laws  of  nations:  this  was  their  avowed  design 
to  open  the  river  Scheldt,  in  direct  opposition  to  the  treaties  of  which 
Kn^rjand  was  a  guarantee,  and  to  the  manifest  disadvantage  of  the  com- 
mt-rcte  of  the  United  Provinces,  who  were  the  allies  of  England. 

So  portentous  was  the  political  aspect  at  this  time,  thai  it  was  thought 
necessary  to  summon  the  parliament.  In  the  speech  from  the  throne,  his 
majesty  declared  that  he  had  hitherto  observed  a  strict  neutrality  in  regard 
to 'he  war  on  the  continent,  and  had  refrained  from  interfering  with  the 
inttrual  affairs  of  France ;  but  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  see, 
without  the  most  serious  uneasiness,  the  strong  and  increasing  indications 
which  appeared  there,  of  an  intention  to  excite  disturbances  in  other  coun- 
tries, to  disregard  the  rights  of  neutral  powers,  and  to  pursue  views  of 
unjust  conquest  and  aggrandizement.  He  had  therefore  taken  steps  for 
making  some  augmentation  of  his  naval  and  military  force  ;  and  he  re> 
commended  the  subject  to  the  serious  attention  of  parliament.  After  very 
long  and  animated  debates  on  the  address  of  thanks  for  the  king's  speech 
(during  which  manjyr  of  the  opposition,  who  were  by  this  time  thoroughly 
disgusted  with  the  French  revolutionists,  deserted  their  party),  the  motion 
was  carried  by  a  large  majority. 

The  next  subject  which  engaged  the  at'.ention  of  parliament  was  the 
alien  hill,  which  authorized  government  to  dismiss  from  the  kingdom  such 
foreii^ners  as  they  should  think  fit.  During  the  month  of  December  an 
order  of  government  was  also  issued  for  preventing  the  exportation  of 
i-orn  to  France ;  and  several  ships  laden  with  grain  were  compelled  tu 
unload  their  cargoes. 

A.  D.  1793. — That  a  war  between  Great  Britain  and  France  was  speedily 
approaching,  was  believed  by  all  parties ;  yet  war  was  neither  foreseen 
nor  premeditated  by  the  king's  ministers;  it  was  the  unavoidable  result  of 
circumstances.  In  a  decree  of  the  French  convention  on  the  19th  of 
November,  1792,  they  had  declared  their  intention  of  extending  their  fra 
ternity  and  assistance  to  the  disaffected  and  revolting  subjects  of  all  mon- 
arcliical  governments.  The  disavowal  of  this  assertion  was  demanded 
by  the  British  ministry ;  but  as  this  was  not  complied  with,  M.  Chauve- 
lin,  ambassador  from  the  late  king  of  France — though  not  acknowledged 
in  that  light  by  the  republic — received  orders  to  leave  the  kingdom,  in  virtue 
of  the  alien  act.  In  consequence  of  tl.is  measure,  the  French  convention, 
on  the  1st  of  February,  declared  war. 

No  sooner  was  Great  Britain  mvolved  in  this  eventful  war,  th.  n  a 
treaty  of  commerce  was  concluded  with  Russia,  a  large  body  of  troops 
was  taken  into  the  service  of  government,  and  an  engagement  was  entered 
into  by  the  king  of  Sardinia,  who  agreed,  for  an  annual  subsidy  of  200,000/., 
to  join  the  Austrians  in  Italy  with  a  very  considerable  military  force. 
Alliances  were  likewise  formed  with  Austria,  Prussia,  Spain,  Hollaud, 
Portugal,  and  Russia,  all  of  whom  agreed  to  shut  their  ports  against  the 
vessels  of  France.  Denmark,  Sweden,  and  Switzerland,  however,  re- 
fused to  join  the  confederacy.  The  king  of  the  Sicilies  agreed  to  furnish 
GOOO  troops  and  four  ships  of  the  line  ;  the  empire  also  furnished  its  con- 
tingents to  the  Auistrian  and  Prussian  armies,  and  British  troops  wer» 
sent  to  the  protection  of  Holland,  under  the  command  of  the  duke  of  York. 

The  French  arn)y,  commanded  by  General  Dumouriez,  invaded  Hol- 
land, and  having  taken  Breda,  Gertruydenburg,  and  some  other  placet, 


THB  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


«71 


advanced  to  Williamsladt,  wliich  was  defended  by  a  detachment  from  the 
brigade  of  the  Knglish  guards,  just  arrived  in  Holland.  Here  the  French 
niRt  with  a  repulse,  and  were  compelled  to  raise  the  siege  with  great  loss. 
Dumouriez  then  left  Holland  to  defend  Louvain;  but  being  afterwardn 
defeated  in  several  engagements  with  the  allied  armies,  particularly  at 
Neer-winden,  his  soldiers  were  so  discouraged,  that  they  deserted  in  great 
numbers.  At  length,  weary  of  the  disorganized  state  of  the  French  gov- 
crnment,  and  finding  himself  suspected  by  the  two  great  factions  which 
divided  the  republic,  Dumouriez  entered  into  negotiations  with  the  allied 
generals,  and  agreed  to  return  to  Paris,  dissolve  the  national  convention, 
and  free  his  country  from  the  gross  tyranny  which  was  there  exercised 
under  the  specious  name  of  equality.  But  the  conventionalists  withheld 
his  supplies,  and  sent  commissioners  to  thwart  his  designs  and  summon 
him  to  their  bar.  He  instantly  arrested  the  officers  that  brought  the  sum- 
mons, and  sent  them  to  the  Austrian  head-quarters.  But  the  army  did 
not  share  the  anti-revolutionary  feelings  of  the  general,  and  he  was  him- 
self oblisied  to  seek  safety  in  the  Austrian  camp,  accompanied  by  young 
Egalil6  (as  he  was  then  styled),  son  of  the  execrable  duke  of  Orleans,  and 
now  Louis  Philippe,  king  of  the  French ! 

The  duke  of  York,  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  allied  armies,  had  laid 
siege  to  and  taken  Valenciennes,  and  he  was  now  nnxious  to  extend 
their  conquests  along  the  frontier ;  he  accordingly  marched  towards  Dun- 
kirk and  commenced  the  siege  on  the  27th  of  August.  He  expected  a 
naval  armament  from  Great  Britain  to  act  in  conjiuiction  with  llie  land 
forces ;  but,  from  some  unaccountable  cause,  the  heavy  artillery  was  so 
long  delayed  that  the  enemy  had  time  to  provide  for  the  defence  of  the 
town.  The  French  troops,  commanded  by  Houchard,  poured  upon  them 
in  such  numbers,  that  the  duke  was  compelled  to  make  a  precipitate 
retreat,  to  avoid  losing  the  whole  of  his  men.  He  then  came  to  England, 
and  having  held  a  conference  with  the  ministers,  returned  to  tiio  conti- 
nent. At  Valenciennes  it  was  decided  in  a  council  of  war,  that  the  em- 
peror of  Germany  should  take  the  field,  and  be  invested  with  the  supreme 
command. 

The  principal  persons  of  the  town  and  harbour  of  Toulon  entered  into 
an  agreement  with  the  British  admiral.  Lord  Hood,  by  which  they  deliv- 
ered up  the  town  and  shipping  to  his  protection,  on  condition  of  its  being 
restored  to  France  when  the  Bourbon  restoration  should  be  effected. 
The  town,  however,  was  not  for  any  long  time  defensible  against  the  su- 
perior force  of  the  enemy  which  had  come  to  its  rescue ;  it  was  therefore 
evacuated,  fourteen  thousand  of  the  inhabitants  taking  refuge  on  board 
the  British  ships.  Sir  Sidney  Smith  set  fire  to  the  arsenals,  which,  to- 
gether with  an  immense  quantity  of  naval  stores,  and  ships  of  the  line, 
were  consumed.  On  this  occasion  the  artillery  was  commanded  by  Na- 
polcdii  Bonaparte,  whose  skill  and  courage  was  conspicuous,  and  from 
that  day  his  promotion  rapidly  took  place. 

The  efforts  made  by  the  f'rench  at  this  time  were  truly  astonishing. 
Having  prodigiously  increased  their  forces,  they  were  resolved  to  conquer, 
whatever  might  be  the  cost  of  human  life.  Every  day  was  a  day  of  bat- 
tle; and  as  they  wert)  continually  reinforced,  the  veteran  armies  of  the 
allies  were  obliged  to  give  way.  On  the  22nd  of  December  tliey  were 
driven  with  immense  slaughter  from  Hagenau  ;  this  was  followed  up  by 
snccessive  defeats  till  the  17th,  when  the  French  army  arrived  at  Weis- 
geniburg  in  triumph.  During  this  last  month  the  loss  of  men  on  both 
sides  was  immense,  being  estimated  at  between  70,000  and  80,000  men. 
The  French  concluded  the  campaign  in  triumph,  and  tiie  allied  powers 
were  seriously  alarmed  at  the  difficulties  which  were  necessary  to  be  sur 
mounted,  in  order  to  regain  the  ground  that  had  been  lost. 

In  the  East  and  West  Lidies  the  English  were  successful     Tobago, 


679 


THE  TEEA8URY  OF  HISTOilY. 


St.  Domingo,  Pondicherry,  and  llie  French  settlements  on  the  coa«t  o( 
Malabar  and  Coromandel,  all  surrendered  to  them. 

A.  D.  1794.— From  the  great  and  irnportant  events  which  were  traii 
sacting  on  the  continent,  we  turn  to  the  internal  afTairs  of  Great  Brituin, 
The  French  republic  having  menaced  England  with  an  invasion,  it  was 
proposed  by  ministers  that  associalions  of  volunteers,  both  of  cavalry  ami 
infantry,  miglit  be  formed  in  every  county,  for^'the  purpose  of  defending 
the  country  from  the  hostile  attempts  of  its  enemies,  and  for  supporting 
the  government  against  the  cflforts  of  the  disaffected. 

On  the  12th  of  May  a  message  from  the  king  announced  to  parliament 
the  existence  of  seditious  societies  in  London,  and  that  the  papers  of  eer- 
tain  persons  belonging  to  them  had  been  seized,  and  were  submitted  to 
the  consideration  of  the  house.  Several  members  of  the  Society  for  Con- 
stitutional Information,  and  of  the  London  Corresponding  Society,  were 
apprehended  on  a  charge  of  high  treason,  and  committed  to  the  Tower, 
Among  them  were  Thomas  Hardy,  a  shoemaker  in  Piccadilly,  and  Danici 
Adams,  secretaries  to  the  before-named  societies ;  the  celebrated  John 
Home  Tooke ;  the  Rev.  Jeremiah  Joyce,  private  secretary  to  Earl  Stan- 
hope; John  Augustus  Bonney,  an  attorney ;  and  Messrs.  Thelwall,  Rich- 
ter,  Lovatt,  and  Stone.  They  were  brought  to  trial  in  the  following  Oc. 
tober,  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  acquitted. 

Every  appearance  on  the  grand  theatre  of  war  indicated  a  rontinuanct 
of  success  to  the  French  in  the  ensuing  campaign.  The  diligence  and 
activity  of  their  government,  the  vigour  and  bravery  of  their  troops,  the 
ability  and  firmness  of  their  commanders,  the  unwearied  exertions  of  ail 
men  employed  in  the  public  service,  astonished  the  whole  world.  Filjel 
with  an  enthusiastic  devotion  to  the  cause  in  which  they  had  embarked, 
their  minds  were  intent  only  on  the  military  glory  and  aggrandisement 
of  the  republic.  While  the  whole  strength  which  could  be  collected  by 
the  allies  amounted  to  less  than  four  hundred  thousand  men,  the  armiej) 
of  France  were  estimated  at  upwards  of  a  million. 

Though  the  superiority  by  land  was  at  present  evidently  in  favour  of 
the  French,  yet  on  the  ocean  "Old  England"  maintained  its  predominance. 
During  the  course  of  the  summer  the  island  of  Corsica  was  subdued ;  and 
the  whole  of  the  West  India  islands,  except  part  of  Guadaloupe,  surren- 
dered to  the  troops  under  the  command  of  Sir  Charles  Gray  and  Sir  John 
Jervis.  The  channel  fleet,  under  its  veteran  commander,  Lord  Howe, 
sailed  from  port,  in  order  to  intercept  the  Brest  fleet,  which  had  ventured 
out  to  sea  to  protect  a  large  convoy  that  was  expected  from  America. 
The  hostile  fleets  descried  each  other  on  the  28lh  of  May,  and  as  an  en- 
gagement became  inevitable,  the  enemy  formed  in  regularorder  of  battle. 
On  the  morning  of  the  1st  of  June  a  close  action  commenced ;  tlie  enemy's 
fleet,  consisting  of  twenty-six  sail  of  the  line,  and  the  British  of  twenty. 
five.  Though  the  battle  did  not  last  long,  it  was  very  severe,  and  proved 
decisive,  seven  of  the  French  ships  being  compelled  to  strike  their  colours, 
one  of  which,  La  Vengeur,  went  down  with  all  her  crew  almost  immedi- 
ately  on  being  taken  possession  of.  In  the  captured  ships  alone,  the 
killed  and  wounded  amounted  to  1270.  The  total  loss  of  the  British  was 
906.  When  intelligence  of  this  memorable  victory  arrived  in  England,  it 
produced  the  greatest  exultation,  and  the  metropolis  was  illuminated  three 
successive  nights. 

This  naval  loss  of  the  French,  though  it  considerably  diminished  the 
ardour  of  their  seamen,  was  greatly  overbalanced  by  the  general  success 
of  their  military  operations.  The  principal  theatre  of  the  contest  was  the 
Netherlands,  where  generals  Jourdan  and  Pichegru  had  not  less  liian 
200,000  good  troops,  headed  by  many  expert  and  valiant  ofliccrs,  and 
abundantly  supplied  with  all  the  requisites  of  war.  To  oppose  this  formi- 
dable force,  the  allies  assembled  an  army  of  146,000,  commanded  by  the 


nmiKiTot  ^1 

the  Jukt)  vj 

losa  v/IiJx; 

conflii  tj  ai( 

limateJ  at  1 

sislible,  and 

Bruges ;  Tt 

cieiiiies,  Co 

torious  care 

were  equall; 

maintained  i 

masses  of  tli 

licans  fough 

they  wert  of 

But  the  n 

Netherlands 

Spain  and  Iti 

as  to  disturb, 

much  reducei 

ticulty  the  coi 

Europe.    It  ^ 

energy  which 

whelm  the  in 

unavailing  agf 

less  fortunate, 

armies,  a  serie 

campaign  end< 

France. 

We  shall  no 
Netherlands,  v 
ducted  with  gr 
Bois-le-Duc  an 
superior  numb( 
across  the  Mat 
tember  Crevec 
immediately  af 
liis  royal  highn 
at  Arnheim. 
November,  ant 
of  the  rivers 
\eginning  of  jj 
.roops  were  at 
enemy,  seizing 

of  70,000  men?! 

on  the  16ih  of  J 

Wiliiamstadt,  B 

remnant  of  the 

privations,  and  i 

escaped  in  a  litt 

became  the  obje 

revolutionized  a 

fiaimed,  ieprese 

Batavian  Republ 

iliat  this  new  on 

they  soon  had  ej 

glish  seized  theii 

other,  the  French 

A-  n.  1795 A 

Vol.  I.-43  ^ 


THE  TRKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


673 


fiQpisrot  ill  p<trsun,  assisted  by  generals  Clairfait,  Kaiinit^,  Prince  Cobiirg, 
the  iuka  ot  i'oiic,  &c.  Numerous  were  the  battles,  and  enurniuus  the 
loss  lyl  li^'  OA  each  side  during  this  campaign:  in  une  or  these  bloody 
cunflivta  aionR,  iKe  battle  of  Charlerui,  the  U-.r  of  the  Austriaiis  was  es- 
timatej  at  15,000  men.  The  armies  of  Frav  ^^  were,  in  fact,  become  irre- 
sistible, and  the  allies  retreated  in  all  directions ;  Nieuport,  Ostetid,  and 
Bruges ;  Tournay,  Mons,  Uudenarde,  and  Brussels ;  Landrecins,  Valen- 
ciennes, Conde,  and  Quesnoi — all  fell  into  their  hands.  During  this  vic- 
torious career  of  Ihe  French  in  the  Netherlands,  their  armies  on  the  Rhine 
were  equally  successful ;  and  though  both  Austrians  and  Prussians  well 
maintained  their  reputation  for  skill  and  bravery,  yet  the  overwhelming 
masses  of  the  French,  and  the  fierce  enthusiasm  with  which  tiiese  repub- 
licans fought,  were  more  than  a  match  for  the  veteran  bands  by  whom 
liiey  were  opposed. 

But  the  military  operations  of  the  French  were  not  confined  to  the 
Netherlands  and  the  frontiers  of  Germany ;  they  had  other  armies  both  in 
Spain  and  Italy.  The  kingdom  of  Spain,  which  was  formerly  so  powerful 
as  to  disturb,  by  its  ambition,  the  peace  of  Europe,  was  at  this  time  so 
much  reduced  by  superstition,  luxury,  and  indolence,  that  it  was  with  dif- 
ticulty  the  court  of  Madrid  maintained  its  rank  among  the  countries  ot 
Europe.  It  was  therefore  no  wonder  that  the  impetuosity  and  untiring 
energy  which  proved  so  destructive  to  the  warlike  Germans,  should  over- 
whelm the  inert  armies  of  Spain,  or  that  their  strongholds  should  prove 
unavailing  against  such  resolute  foes.  In  Italy,  too,  the  French  were  not 
less  fortunate.  Though  they  had  to  (tombat  the  Austrian  and  Sardinian 
armies,  a  series  of  victories  made  them  masters  of  Piedmont,  and  the 
campaign  ended  thare,  as  elsewhere,  greatly  in  favour  of  revolutionary 
France. 

We  shall  now  return  to  the  operations  of  the  common  enemy  in  the 
Netherlands,  which,  notwithstanding  tiie  approach  of  winter,  were  con- 
iucted  with  great  perseverance.  The  duke  of  York  was  posted  between 
Bois-le-Duc  and  Breda,  but  being  attacked  with  great  impetuosity  by  the 
superior  numbers  of  Pichegru,  he  was  overpowered,  and  obliged  to  retreat 
across  the  Maese,  with  the  loss  of  about  1,500  men.  On  the  30th  of  Sep- 
tember CreveccKur  was  taken  by  the  enemy,  and  Bois-le-Duc  surrendered 
immediately  after.  They  then  followed  the  duke  across  the  Maese,  when 
liis  royal  highness  found  it  necessary  to  cross  the  Rhine,  and  take  post 
at  Arnheim.  Nimeguen  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  French  on  the  7th  of 
November,  and  as  the  winter  set  in  with  uncommon  severity,  the  whole 
of  the  rivers  and  lakes  of  Holland  were  bound  up  by  the  frost.  At  the 
Veginning  of  January,  1795,  the  river  Waal  was  frozen  over ;  the  British 
vToops  were  at  the  time  in  a  most  deplorable  state  of  ill  health,  and  the 
enemy,  seizing  the  favourable  opportunity,  crossed  the  river  with  an  army 
of  70,000  men,  and  having  repulsed  the  force  which  was  opposed  to  them, 
on  the  16th  of  January  took  possession  of  Amsterdam.  The  fortresses  of 
Wilhamsladt,  Breda,  Bergen-op-Zoom,  admitted  the  French ;  the  shattered 
remnant  of  tiie  British  army  was  obliged  to  retreat,  under  the  most  severe 
privations,  and  in  a  season  unusually  inclement ;  and  the  prince  of  Orange 
escaped  in  a  little  boat,  and  landed  in  England,  where  he  and  his  family 
bficame  the  objects  of  royal  liberality.  The  United  Provinces  were  now 
revolutionized  after  the  model  of  France;  the  rights  of  man  were  pro- 
pjaimed,  representatives  chosen,  and  the  country  received  the  name  of  the 
Hatavian  Republic.  If  there  were  any  in  Holland  who  seriously  expected 
that  this  new  order  of  things  was  likely  to  prove  beneficial  to  the  country, 
they  soon  had  experience  to  t)ie  contrary;  for,  on  the  cue  hand,  the  En- 
glish seized  their  colonies  and  destroyed  their  commerce,  while  on  the 
other,  the  French  treated  them  with  all  the  hauteur  of  insolent  conquerors. 
A.  n.  1795. — At  the  conclusion  of  the  past  ye^r  the  aspect  of  aflTairs  ou 
Vol.  I — 4.'} 


«74 


THE  TREASURY  OF  H18T0H\ 


Ihe  outiiioiit  was  most  gloomy  and  nnpromiiiing.  The  Froiirh  rppublie 
had  Buddcnly  bccoiiu-  more  exteiitsivj;  by  its  coiKjuests  than  Fraiito  had 
been  «ince  tho  days  of  Charh>magi\o ;  they  had  ac(|iiir«id  an  incrcaHed 
population,  (;stimatt>d  at  thirteen  inillionH,  which,  added  to  twenty-rour 
millions  contained  in  France,  nonstituted  an  empire  of  37,000,000  people. 
Aa  this  immense  popniation  inhabited  the  centre  of  FUirope,  they  were 
able  by  their  position  to  defy  the  enmity  of  all  their  neighbours,  and 
to  exercise  an  influence  almost  amounting  to  an  universal  sovereignty. 

The  consternation  of  Great  Britain  and  the  allied  powers  was  greatly 
increased  by  the  conduct  of  the  king  of  Prussia,  wht)  withdrew  froin  the 
coalition,  atid  concluded  a  treaty  of  peace  with  the  French  eonvemiun. 
This  act,  in  addition  to  the  disntemberment  of  Poland,  was  cotumented  oti 
in  the  British  parliament  in  terms  of  severe  and  merited  censure.  Ih  had 
received  large  subsidies  from  England,  and  was  pledged,  as  a  mctrihcr  of 
the  coalition,  to  do  his  utmost  towards  the  overthrow  of  regicidal  France 
and  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons ;  and  his  defection  at  such  a  time  was 
as  unprincipled,  as  the  effect  of  it  was  likely  to  be  disastrotis.  But  the 
English  and  Atistriaiis,  encouraged  by  the  distracted  state  of  France,  more 
especially  by  the  royalist  war  in  La  Vendee,  eotttinued  their  efforts,  not. 
withstanding  Spain  followed  the  example  of  Prussia,  and  the  duke  of 
Tuscany,  also,  deserted  the  allies. 

Though  unfortunate  in  her  alliances,  and  unsuccessful  in  the  attempts 
made  by  her  military  force  on  the  continent.  Great  Britain  had  still  tho 
satisfaction  of  beholding  her  fleets  riding  triumphantly  on  the  ocean.  On 
the  23d  of  June,  Admiral  Lord  Bridporl  attacked  the  French  fleet  off  I/Ori- 
ent,  and  captured  three  ships  of  the  line.  Some  other  minor  actions  also 
served  to  show  that  Britain  had  not  lost  the  power  to  maintain  her  naval 
superiority.  As  Holland  was  now  become  subject  to  France,  letters  of 
reprisals  were  issued  out  against  the  Dutch  ships,  and  directions  were 
given  for  attacking  their  colonies,  with  the  intention,  however,  of  restoriiiw 
ihem  when  the  stadthholder's  government  should  be  re-established.  Tli° 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  was  obliged  to  submit  to  the  British  arms,  together 
with  Trincomalee,  and  all  the  other  United  settlements  except,  Batavia. 

The  other  events  of  the  year  may  be  thus  summed  up : — The  marriage 
of  the  prince  of  Wales  with  the  prii'icess  Caroline  of  Brunswick  ;  a  malrh 
dictated  by  considerations  of  what  are  termed  prudence,  rather  than  of 
affection ;  the  prince's  debts  at  the  time  amounted  to  620,000/.,  and  parlia- 
ment agreed  to  grant  him  125,000/.  per  ann:m  in  addition  to  his  income 
arising  from  the  duchy  of  Cornwall,  a  portion  being  reserved  forthe^frad 
ual  liquidation  of  his  debts. — The  death  of  Louis  XVH.,  son  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Louis  XVI.,  and  lawful  sovereign  of  France,  in  prison. — The  acquit- 
tal of  Warren  Hastings,  after  a  trial  which  had  lasted  seven  years.— The 
commencement  of  the  societies  of  United  Irishmen  against,  and  of  Orange 
clubs  in  favour  of,  the  government. — A  dearth  of  corn  in  England,  with 
consequent  high  prices,  great  distress,  and  riots  which  created  much  alarm. 
In  seasons  of  scarcity  and  consequent  high  prices,  the  multitmle  are 
easily  excited  to  acts  of  insubordination.  At  this  period  their  attention 
had  been  rjused  to  political  subjects  by  some  meetings  held  in  the  open 
fields,  at  the  instance  of  the  corresponding  societies,  where  the  usual  in- 
vectives against  government  had  formed  the  staple  of  their  discourse,  and 
the  people  had  been  more  than  usually  excited.  A  report  was  circulated 
that  vast  bodies  of  the  disaffected  would  make  their  appearance  when  the 
king  proceeded  to  open  parliament;  and  so  it  proved,  for  the  amazing 
number  of  200,000  persons  assembled  in  the  park  on  that  occasion,  Oct. 
29.  An  immense  throng  surrounded  his  majesty's  carriage,  clamouroiisly 
■ociferating  "  Bread  !"  "  Peace !"  "  No  Pitt !"  some  voices  also  shouting  out 
No  King!"  while  stones  were  thrown  at  the  coach  from  all  directions, 
Id,  on  passing  through  Palace-yard,  one  of  the  windows  was  broken  by 


a  I'ullet  f 

iiiil  to  th( 

icandalou 

feriiig  a  tli 

cerned  in 

A.  n.  17i] 

armies  nnc 

of  Great  I] 

night  appi 

the  frontiei 

Jourdan ;  t 

extraonlina 

like  Picheg 

publican  an 

at  the  siege 

veloped.     /I 

opposed  to  \ 

by  General 

on  the  9th  oi 

at  .Millesimo, 

the  village  ol 

<^iirity.     Mas 

(luring  the  da 

some  reinfoi( 

made  14,000  i 

liaving  been  c 

arms,  which  \ 

confederacy,  t 

of  the  duchy  c 

followed  by  si 

llie  king  of  Sal 

tiiietion. 


—  ■•       n     uiui 

cannonading  k< 
trian  artillery 
not  be  forced ; 
French  army  \ 
tneir  position, 
efleet  his  object 
of'nis  troops,  h( 
O'the  Austrian 
oppone/its,  that 
"16  shattered  re 
pursued  by  a  lai 
now  soon  in  the 
•ne  only  place  o 
ai'er,  Bonaparte 
and  next  menace 
s's'ing  this  unpr 
ncessitvofsoli 
"ng  terms.    He 
*''tl»  the  citadel 


TUB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


•» 


8  bullet  from  an  air-gun.  On  enlcring  the  house,  the  kinj;,  much  MgilnttfJ, 
■;ii(l  to  the  chancellor,  *'  My  lord,  I  have  heen  mIioI  at."  On  his  return  these 
gcxndaloUM  oulrageH  were  re|)eute(l.  and  a  proclam.ition  wan  inttued  o(- 
fering  a  thousand  poundH  reward  for  the  apprehension  of  the  perHonii  con- 
cerned in  these  seditious  pn ethngs. 

A.  n.  179(). — The  unremitting  Htrugi{le  on  the  eontinenl  Ix-tween  the  allied 
armies  and  these  of  France,  was  far  too  important  as  regarded  the  interests 
of  Great  Itritain  for  us  to  pass  it  ligiilly  ovt-r,  however  little  it  may  at  first 
night  appi  r  to  belong  strictly  to  Uritish  history.  The  French  armies  on 
the  frontiers  of  (Jermany  were  conunanded  by  their  generals  Moreau  and 
Jourdan  ;  the  army  of  Italy  was  conducted  hv  Napoleon  l)ona|)arte.  This 
extraordinary  man,  whose;  name  will  hereafUT  so  freijuently  occur,  had, 
like  Pichegru,  Jourdan,  Moreau,  iV:c.,  attained  rapid  promotions  in  the  re- 
publican armies.  In  1791  he  was  a  captain  of  artillery  ;  and  it  was  only 
at  the  siege  of  Toulon,  in  179.3,  that  his  soldierly  abilities  b»-gan  to  be  de- 
veloped. He  had  now  an  army  of  50,000  veterans  under  his  command, 
opposed  to  whom  were  80,000  Austrians  and  Piedmontese,  commanded 
by  General  Beaulieu,  an  officer  of  great  ability,  who  opened  the  campaign 
on  llie  9lh  of  April.  Having,  after  several  engagements,  suffered  a  ciefeat 
at  Millesiino,  he  selected  7,000  of  his  best  troops,  and  attacked  and  took 
the  village  of  Dego,  where  the  French  were  indulging  thciinselves  in  se- 
curity. Massena,  having  rallied  his  troops,  made  several  fruitless  attempts 
(luring  the  day  to  retake  it ;  but  Bonaparte  arriving  in  the  evening  with 
some  reinforcements,  renewed  the  attack,  drove  the  allies  from  Dego,  and 
made  14,000  orisoners.  Count  Colli,  the  general  o(  the  Sardinian  forces, 
having  been  defeated  by  Bonaparte  at  Mondovi,  requested  a  suspension  of 
arms,  which  was  followed  by  the  king  of  Sardinia  s  withdrawal  from  the 
confederacy,  the  surrenderor  his  most  important  fortresses,  and  the  cession 
of  the  duchy  of  Savoy  &c.,  to  the  French.  This  ignominious  peace  was 
followed  by  similar  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  duke  of  Parma,  who,  like 
the  king  of  Sardinia,  appeared  to  have  no  alternative  but  that  of  utter  ex- 
tinction. 

The  Austrian  general,  Beaulieu,  being  now  no  longer  able  to  maintain 
his  situation  on  the  Po,  retreated  across  the  Adda  at  Lodi,  Pizzighettone, 
and  Cremona,  leaving  a  detachment  at  Lodi  to  stop  the  progress  of  the 
enemy.  These  forces  were  attacked,  on  the  10th  of  May,  by  the  advanced 
guard  of  the  republican  army,  who  compelled  them  to  retreat  with  so 
much  precipitation  as  to  leave  no  time  for  breaking  down  the  bridge  of 
Lodi.  A  battery  was  planted  on  the  French  side,  and  a  tremendous 
cannonading  kept  up;  but  so  well  was  the  bridge  protected  by  the  Aus- 
trian artillery,  that  it  was  the  opinion  of  the  general  officers  that  it  could 
not  be  forced ;  but  as  Bonaparte  was  convinced  that  the  reputation  of  the 
French  army  would  suffer  much  if  the  Austrians  were  allowed  to  maintain 
their  position,  he  was  determined  to  encounter  every  risk  in  order  to 
effect  his  object.  Putting  himself,  therefore,  at  the  head  of  a  select  body 
of'his  troops,  he  passed  the  bridge  in  the  midst  of  a  most  destructive  fire 
ofthe  Austrian  artillery,  and  then  fell  with  such  irresistible  fury  on  his 
opponents,  that  he  gained  a  complete  victory.  Marshal  Beaulieu,  with 
the  shattered  remnants  of  his  army,  made  a  hasty  retreat  towards  Mantua, 
pursued  by  a  large  body  of  the  French.  Pavia,  Milan,  and  Verona,  were 
now  soon  in  their  hands  ;  and  on  the  4th  of  June  they  invested  Mantua, 
the  only  place  of  importance  which  the  emperor  held  in  Italy.  Not  long 
after,  Bonaparte  made  himself  master  of  Ferrara,  Bologna,  and  Urbino; 
and  next  menaced  the  city  of  Rome.  As  the  pope  was  incapable  of  re- 
sisting this  unprovoked  invasion  of  his  territories,  he  was  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  soliciting  an  armistice,  which  was  granted  on  very  humilia- 
ting terms.  He  agreed  to  give  up  the  cities  of  Bologna  and  Ferrara, 
with  the  citadel  of  Ancona,  and  to.ueliver  up  a  great  number  of  paintings 


67(> 


THI£  TUKAHUHY  OF  H18TOUY. 


and  ■tHtiien,  uiul  to  eiiricli  Ow  roiiqiu^ror  with  sumo  Ituadrcda  of  the  moii 
curious  iiiitiiuKcriptM  Troin  tho  Vuticiin  library. 

Tht*  court  of  ViniiDi  now-  recitlli'd  Hi-nuliuu,  and  gnvc  the  ooriun:iiid  to 
Marshal  VVuriiiner ;  hut  the  tide  of  success  ran  nioru  slronif  ayaiiiHi  hitn, 
ir  pohsihU-,  than  it  had  doix!  against  his  oreOcctaNor.  As  Ooii.tparte  wai 
at  this  time  »in|)loyed  in  rorminn  a  rvpubhe  or  the  status  of  litiggio,  >(„. 
duiia,  Hoh)gna,  and  Ferrara,  thu  Auslriuns  had  leisure  to  make  new  inih< 
tary  arrangements.  They  reinrurced  Marshal  Wuriiiser,  and  formed  a 
new  army,  the  command  of  which  was  given  to  General  Alvinzi.  At  the 
beginning  n(  November,  several  ^larlial  engagements  took  place  bctwero 
Alvinzi  and  Uonaparlc,  till  the  15th,  when  a  most  desperate  engiigeinuiil 
at  thu  village  of  Areola  ended  in  the  defeat  and  retreat  of  the  Austriaiig, 
who  lost  about  l:i,000  men.  Mantua,  however,  was  still  obstinately  de- 
fended, but  the  garrison  ceased  to  entertain  hopes  of  ultimate  sueceiss. 

While  the  French  army  under  Bonaparte  was  overrunning  Italy,  the 
armies  on  the  Rhine,  under  Jourdan  and  Moreau,  wi!re  unable  to  make 
any  impression  on  the  Austrians.  The  armistice  which  had  been  con- 
cluded at  the  termination  of  the  last  campaign,  expired  on  the  Slst  of  May, 
when  both  armies  took  the  field,  and  the  archduke  Charles,  who  cum- 
manded  the  Austrians,  gained  several  advantages  over  both  Jourdan  and 
Moreau,  till,  at  the  end  of  the  year,  the  hostile  armies,  having  been  harassed 
by  the  incessant  fatigues  they  had  undergone,  discontinued  their  military 
operations  for  the  winter. 

The  successes  of  Uonaparte  in  Italy,  and  tho  general  aversion  with 
which  the  people  beheld  the  war,  induced  the  British  ministry  to  make 
overtures  lor  peace  with  the  French  republic.  Lord  Malmesbury  wii 
accordingly  dispatched  to  Paris  on  this  important  mission,  and  proposed 
as  the  basis  tho  mutual  restitution  of  conquests  ;  but  there  was  no  di«po. 
sition  for  peace  on  the  part  of  the  French  directory,  and  the  attempt  at 
pacification  ended  by  a  sudden  order  for  his  lordship  to  leave  Paris  in  mrty. 
eight  hours.  While  these  negotiations  were  on  the  tapis,  an  armament 
was  prepared  at  Brest  for  the  invasion  of  Ireland,  which  had  long  been 
meditated  by  the  French  rulers.  The  fleet,  consisting  of  twenty-five 
ships  of  the  line  and  fifteen  frigates,  was  intrusted  to  Admiral  Boiivet; 
the  land-forces,  amounting  to  25.000  men,  were  commanded  by  General 
Hoche.  They  set  sail  on  the  18th  of  December,  but  a  violent  tempest 
arose,  and  the  frigate  on  board  of  which  the  general  was  conveyed  being 
separated  from  the  fleet,  thoy  returned  to  harbour,  after  losing  one  ship  of 
the  line  and  two  frigates. 

A  few  incidental  notices  will  serve  to  wind  up  the  domestic  events  of 
the  year: — Sir  Sidney  Smith  was  taken  prisoner  on  the  French  coast, 
and  sent,  under  a  strong  escort,  to  Paris.— The  princess  of  Wales  gave 
birth  to  a  daughter,  tlie  princess  Charlotte ;  immediately  after  which,  at 
the  instance  of  the  prince  on  the  ground  of  "  incongeniality,"  a  separation 
took  place  between  the  royal  parents. — A  government  loan  of  18,000,000/. 
was  subscribed  in  fifteen  hours,  between  the  l»t  and  5th  instant.  One 
million  was  subscribed  by  the  bank  of  England  in  their  corporate  capucity, 
and  400,000/.  by  the  directors  individually. 

A.  D.  1797. — The  garrison  of  Mantua,  which  had  held  out  with  astonish- 
ing bravery,  surrendered  on  the  2d  of  February,  but  obtained  very  honour- 
able terms.  After  this,  Bonaparte  received  very  considerable  reinforce- 
ments, and  having  cut  to  pieces  the  army  under  Alvinzi,  he  resolved  on 
penetrating  into  the  centre  of  the  Austrian  dominions.  When  the  court  of 
Vienna  received  information  of  this  design,  they  raised  a  new  army,  the 
command  of  which  was  given  to  the  archduke  Charles.  The  French  de 
feated  the  Austrians  in  almost  every  ontragement;  and  Bonaparte,  afier 
making  20,000  prisoners,  effected  a  passage  across  the  Alps,  and  drove  the 
emperor  to  the  uecessity  of  requesting  an  armistice     In  April  a  preliinir- 


uy  tri'iiiy 
rcl  nil  the 
from  till)  t 
ilniiild  rec 
It  ilv,  lr:tv 
»liii'll  was 
Kiiglniid 
^;ul  hi'cn  t 
Mtlu'iii. 
iiihcs  to  To 
(iroit  Hritii 
I  run  upon 
CHtt'd  ititejf 
of  the  liiiiik 
eomiiiittee  ' 
thouifh  the 
iiet  was  pas 
pounds  wen 
was  at  rtr.1t 
i.'oii(iih'iu;e  i 
One  of  tin 
the  e()iiipm( 
Frfiii(!li.     Tl 
on  the  1  ith  ( 
Cape  Sr.  Vin 
line  in  order 
rtect,  and  sep 
vigour,  and  ii 
and  hliiitkadei 
wounded;  tli 
to  the  peera<» 
son,  who  was 
Rejoieiiigs 
serious  niutii 
this  uiitowarc 
lent  was  first 
received  anon 
cm  ships'  coi 
biition  of  priz' 
his  lordship  t( 
disaffection  in 
forgeries,  anc 
orders  were  | 
Spithead  ran  i 
They  then  cht 
the  admiralty 
an  oath  to  be  I 
hoard,  and  tolt 
and  the  king's 
mentiiig  the  pa 
ciiiims  had  bee 
fniitiny  and  m 
at  the  head  of 
who  undertook 
reject  repented 
meiiced  on  boti 
appear,  ^iid,  aft 
Parker  and    hi 
•filiated  their  ol 


TUB  TIlKArtl'llY  OK  UISTOIIY. 


m 


fry  (n'lity  wan  cnti<r«-(l  into,  by  which  it  w.\n  Htipuliitfiil  that  Krniirp  ahotiM 
rcl  till  ll"'  \ii^tri.iii  NiMh<>rliiii>lii,  niul  that  a  new  npiililio  Nhmilil  tx*  riiriiifii 
from  tti)!  >«tat)'H  of  Milan,  Maiilmi,  Vfixhtna,  Korrira,  uinl  U(ilii|{iia,  which 
ihiiiilil  ri'Cfivt!  thu  iiaiiic  of  thr  Cmaliiiiic  Uciuihhr.  Mi>  then  rcturiit'd  t<i 
It  ily<  leaving  luiiuir  ih^tails  of  thi)  tn-aly  (o  h*>  ailJuHtnl  aftiTwunlH.  anj 
vhit'li  wa!4  ai-corthii|^ly  doiii'  at  Oainpo  Korinio,  in  th«;  following  Oi-lohcr. 

KiiKlaiul  waH  now  tht;  only  power  at  war  with  France  ;  and  arcat  a* 
Viil  hccn  tlu!  uxtirtiuiiH  of  th«  pi-0|ili>,  still  !;reat«>r  wnro  uf  coitrHc  rt'({iiirt>(| 
if  tiu'iii-  'I'hu  larq[c  ftums  of  money  which  haii  boiMi  Mcnt  ahroitd,  a^t  mih- 
ii(lic8  to  foreign  pnncttM,  had  iliniiniHhed  the  unantity  of  gold  and  Kilvcr  in 
liroii  Itritain  ;  tliin  cause,  added  to  the  dread  of  an  invHNion,  occasioiitul 
I  run  upon  the  country  hanks,  and  a  demand  for  sprrie  hooii  ciMiiimiiii- 
tHteil  itself  to  the  metropolis.  An  order  was  isHued  to  prohibit  i  he  directors 
of  the  hank  from  payinenis  in  cash.  On  the  ineeiiiiK  of  parliament,  « 
iMiiniiiiltee  was  appointed  to  iii(|uire  into  the  state  of  the  ciirreiii;y  ;  and 
(houi{li  th(5  atfairs  of  the  bank  were  deemed  to  be  in  a  prosperous  stale,  an 
uct  was  passed  for  conHrming  the  restriction,  and  notes  for  one  and  two 
pounds  were  circulated.  The  consternation  ocirasioned  by  these  measiirea 
was  at  lir.it  very  general,  but  the  alarm  gradually  subsided,  and  public 
(•oiilideiice  returned. 

One  of  the  fimt  acts  of  Spain,  after  declaring  war  against  Hngland,  was 
th(!  ei|iiipmeMt  of  a  large  number  of  ships,  to  act  in  concert  with  ihe 
Kreiich.  The  Spanish  rteet,  of  twenty-seven  sail  of  the  line,  was  descried 
oil  the  llth  of  January  by  Admiral  Sir  John  Jervis,  who  was  cruisina  off 
('ajie  St.  Vincent,  with  a  fleet  of  fifteen  sail.  He  immediately  formed  liis 
line  in  order  of  battle,  and  having  forced  his  way  through  the  enemy's 
deet,  and  separated  one-third  of  it  from  the  main  body,  he  attacked  with 
vigour,  and  in  a  short  time  captured  four  first-rate  Spanish  men-of-war, 
and  blockaded  the  remainder  in  Cadiz.  The  Spaniards  had  600  killed  and 
wounded  ;  the  British,  300.  Por  this  brilliant  exploit  Sir  John  was  raised 
to  the  peerage  by  the  title  of  earl  of  St.  Vincent;  and  Commodore  Nel- 
gun,  who  was  now  commencing  his  brilliant  career,  was  knighted. 

Rejoicings  for  the  late  ip[loriou.s  victory  were  scarcely  over,  when  a 
serious  mutiny  broke  out  in  the  channel  fleet.  The  principal  (;ause  of 
this  untoward  event  %va8  the  inadequarv  of  ''le  sailors'  pay.  This  discon- 
tent was  first  made  known  to  Lord  H  ^ve,  who  in  February  and  March 
received  anonymous  hctters,  in  wh  u  were  enclosed  petitions  fromdilTer- 
ciil  ships'  companies,  reqiiestintf  »ii  increase  of  pay,  a  more  equal  distri- 
bution of  prize  money,  &c.  The  ii'iveliy  of  this  circumstance  induced 
his  lordship  to  make  some  in^^mrit-s;  but  as  there  was  no  appearance  of 
disatfeclion  in  the  fleet,  he  I'oncUided  that  the  letters  must  have  been 
forgeries,  and  took  no  furtlur  notice  of  it.  On  the  15th  of  April,  when 
orders  were  given  for  piepanng  to  sail,  the  crews  of  the  ships  lyiiij,'  at 
Spiihead  ran  up  the  shrovidii,  gave  three  cheers,  and  refused  to  comply. 
Tliey  then  chose  two  delegates  from  each  ship,  who  drew  up  a  petition  to 
the  admiralty  and  the  house  of  commons,  and  each  seaman  was  bound  by 
an  oath  to  be  faithful  to  the  cause.  At  length  Lord  Bridport  wein  on 
board,  and  told  them  he  was  the  bearer  of  redress  for  all  their  griev  .m-es, 
and  the  king's  pardon ;  and  on  the  8th  of  May  l-.ii  act  was  passed  for  aug 
menting  the  pay  of  sailors  and  marinera.  The  facility  with  which  hese 
claims  had  been  granted  instigated  the  seamen  at  the  Noic  to  r  se  in 
mutiny  and  make  further  demands.  A  council  of  delegates  was  elected, 
at  the  head  of  whom  was  a  bold  and  insolAiit  man  named  Richard  Parker, 
who  undertook  to  command  the  fleet,  and  prevailed  on  his  companions  to 
reject  repc-ued  offers  of  pardon.  Preparations  for  hostilities  were  com- 
menced on  both  sides,  when  dissensions  among  the  disaffected  began  to 
appear,  and,  after  some  bloodshed,  all  tlie  siiips  submitted,  giving  up 
Parker  and  his  fellow-de.lesjates ;  some  of  whom,  with  iheir  leader* 
•N^iiaied  their  offences  by  an  ignominious  death. 


678 


THE  TKEASURY  OF  HI3T0EY. 


Notwitlistanding  the  late  dangerous  mutiny,  the  idea  was  very  prevalent 
in  the  country,  that  if  a  hostile  fleet  were  to  make  its  appearance,  the 
men  would  show  themselves  as  ea^er  as  ever  to  fight  for  the  honour  of 
Old  England.  In  a  few  months  afterwards  an  opportunity  occurred  of 
testing  their  devotion  to  the  service.  The  Batavian  republic  having  fitted 
out  a  fleet  of  fifteen  ships,  under  the  command  of  their  admiral,  De 
Winter,  with  an  intention  of  joining  the  French,  Admiral  Duncan,  who 
commanded  the  British  fleet,  watched  them  so  narrowly,  that  they  fouiKj 
it  impracticable  to  venture  out  of  the  Texel  without  risking  an  engaae. 
ment.  The  British  admiral  being  obliged  by  tempestuous  wealher'to 
leave  his  station,  the  Dutch  availed  themselves  of  the  opporiunity 
and  put  to  sea;  but  were  descried  by  the  Eimlish  fleet,  which  imme- 
diately set  sail  in  pursuit  of  them.  On  the  lltn  of  October  the  English 
came  up  with,  and  attacked  them  off  Camperdown ;  and  after  a  gallant 
fight  of  four  hours,  eight  ships  of  the  line,  including  those  of  the  admiral 
and  vice-admiral,  besides  four  frigates,  struck  their  colours.  The  loss  of 
the  English  in  this  memorable  action  amounted  to  700  men ;  the  loss  of 
the  Dutch  was  estimated  at  twice  that  number.  The  gallant  Admiral 
Duncan  was  raised  to  the  peerage,  and  received  the  title  of  Viscount 
Camperdown,  with  an  hereditary  pension. 

About  three  months  previous  to  this  action  Admiral  Nelson,  acting  on 
fallacious  intelligence,  made  an  unsucoessful  attack  on  Santa  Cruz,  in 
the  island  of  Teneriffe ;  on  which  occasion  the  assailants  sustained 
great  loss,  and  Nelson  himself  had  his  arm  shot  off. 

A.  D.  1798. — As  the  French  republic  had  at  this  time  subdued  all  its 
enemies  except  England,  the  conquest  of  this  country  was  the  principal 
object  of  their  hopes.  The  vast  extent  of  territory  which  the  French 
now  possessed,  together  with  the  influence  they  had  obtained  over  the 
councils  of  Holland,  rendered  them  much  more  formidable  than  they 
had  been  at  any  former  period.  The  circumstances  of  the  British  nation 
were,  however,  such  as  would  discourage  every  idea  of  an  invasion. 
Its  navy  was  more  powerful  than  it  had  ever  been  ;  the  victories  which 
had  lately  been  gained  over  the  Dutch  and  Spanish  fleets,  had  confirmed 
the  general  opinion  of  the  loyalty  as  well  as  bravery  of  its  seamen ;  and 
all  parties  burying,  for  a  time,  all  past  disputes  in  oblivion,  unanimous- 
ly resolved  to  support  the  government.  On  the  meeting  of  parliament, 
in  January,  a  message  from  the  king  intimated  that  an  invasion  of  the 
kingdom  was  in  contemplation  by  the  French.  This  communication 
gave  rise  to  very  active  measures,  which  plainly  manifested  the  spirit 
of  unanimity  which  reigned  in  Great  Britain.  Besides  a  large  addition 
made  to  the  militia,  every  county  was  directed  to  raise  bodies  of  cavalry 
from  the  yeomanry ;  and  almost  every  town  and  considerable  village 
had  its  corps  of  volunteers,  trained  and  armed.  The  island  was  never 
before  in  such  a  formidable  stale  of  internal  defence,  and  a  warlike 
spirit  was  diffused  throughout  the  entire  population.  A  voluntary  sub. 
scription  for  the  support  of  the  war  also  took  place,  by  which  a  million 
and  a  half  of  money  was  raised  towards  defraying  the  extraordinary 
demands  on  the  public  purse. 

Wliilc*  this  universal  harmony  seemed  to  direct  the  councils  of  Great 
Britain,  the  Irish  were  greatly  divided  in  their  sentiments,  and  at  length 
commenced  an  open  rebellion*  In  the  year  1791  a  society  had  been  in- 
stituted by  the  catholics  and  protestant  dissenters,  for  the  purpose  of  ob- 
taining a  reform  in  parliament,  and  an  entire  deliverance  of  the  Roman 
catholics  from  all  the  restrictions  under  which  they  laboured  on  account 
of  religion.  This  institution  was  projected  by  a  person  named  Wolfe 
Tone ;  and  the  members,  who  were  termed  the  Untied  Irishmen^  were  so 
numerous,  that  their  divisions  and  subdivisions  were,  in  a  short  time, 
extended  over  the  whole  kingdom.    Though  a  reform  of  parliament  was 


THE  TIKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


fr« 


Itie  ostensible  object  of  this  society,  yet  it  soon  proved  that  their  secret 
but  zealous  endeavoui-s  were  directed  to  the  bringing  Hbuut  a  revolution, 
and,  by  etfectiii);  a  disjunction  of  Ireland  from  Great  Briiain,  to  estabiisb 
a  republican  form  of  government  similur  to  that  of  France.  So  rapidly 
did  the  numbers  of  these  republican  enthusiasts  increase,  and  so  confident 
were  they  of  the  ultimate  success  of  their  undertaking,  tliat  in  1797  they 
nominated  an  executive  directory,  consisting  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald, 
Arthur  O'Connor,  Oliver  Bond,  Dr.  Mac  Niven,  and  Counsellor  Emmet. 
Tlieir  conspiracy  was  planned  with  such  consummate  art,  and  conducted 
with  such  profound  secresy,  that  it  would,  doubtless,  have  been  carried 
into  effect,  but  for  its  timely  discovery  in  March,  by  a  person  employed 
by  the  government,  when  the  principal  ringleaders  were  apprehended,  and 
Fitzgerald  was  mortally  wounded  while  resisting  the  ofTicers  of  justice. 
A  se'cond  conspiracy  shortly  afterwards  was  in  the  like  manner  detected, 
but  not  until  a  general  insurrection  had  been  determined  upon,  in  which 
the  castle  of  Dublin,  the  camp  near  it,  and  the  artillery  barracks,  were  to 
be  surprised  in  one  night,  and  other  places  were  to  be  seized  at  the  same 
moment.  But  the  flame  of  rebellion  was  not  easily  extinguished.  In 
May,  a  body  of  rebels,  armed  with  swords  and  pikes,  made  attempts 
on  the  towns  of  Naas  and  Wexford ;  but  they  experienced  a  signal  defeat 
from  Lord  Gosford,  at  the  head  of  the  Armagh  militia,  and  four  hundred 
of  them  were  left  dead  on  the  field.  They  afterwards  marched,  15,000 
strong,  against  Wexford,  and  upon  defeating  the  garrison,  which  sallied 
forili  to  meet  them,  obtained  possession  of  tiie  town.  Subsequently  they 
became  masters  of  Enniscorthy,  but  being  driven  back,  with  great  slaugh- 
ter, from  New  Ross,  they  wreaked  their  vengeance  upon  their  captives 
at  Wexf^ord  in  the  most  barbarous  manner.  On  the  twelfth  of  June, 
General  Nugent  attacked  the  rebels,  5000  in  number,  commanded  by 
Miniro,  near  Ballynaliinch,  and  routed  them  with  great  slaughter.  But 
their  greatest  discomfiture  was  that  which  they  sustained  in  their  encamp- 
ment on  Vinegar-hill,  where  General  Lake  attacked  and  completely  routed 
them.  Various  other  minor  engagements  ensued  about  this  time,  in  all 
of  which  the  rebels  were  defeated  with  considerable  loss. 

In  the  present  divided  and  dangerous  state  of  Ireland  it  was  judgea 
pruilent  by  the  legislature  to  appoint  to  the  lieutenancy  of  that  country  a 
military  man  of  acknowledged  prudence  and  bravery.  The  person 
chosen  for  the  station  was  Lord  Cornwallis,  who  arrived  at  Dublin  on 
the  30th  of  June.  His  first  act  was  to  publish  a  proclamation,  offering 
his  majesty's  pardon  to  all  such  insurgents  as  would  desert  their  leaders, 
and  surrender  themselves  and  their  arms.  This  proclamation,  and  the 
resolute  conduct  of  the  government,  had  a  great  effect  on  the  rebels, 
and  the  insurrection  was  in  a  short  time  suppressed.  On  the  23d 
of  August,  about  eight  hundred  Frenchmen,  under  ths  conr.mand  of 
General  Humbert,  who  had  come  to  the  assistance  of  the  rebellious 
Irish,  landed  at  Killala,  and  made  themselves  masters  of  that  town. 
But  instead  of  being  joined  by  a  considerable  body  of  rebels,  as  they  ex- 
pected, they  were  met  by  General  Lake,  to  whom  they  surrendered  as 
prisoners  of  war.  An  end  was  thus  temporarily  put  to  the  Irish  rebellion 
—a  rebellion  which,  though  never  completely  organized,  was  fraught  with 
excesses  on  each  side  at  which  humanity  shudders.  It  was  computed  at 
the  time  that  not  less  than  30,000  persons  in  one  way  or  other,  were  itH 
victims. 

Tiie  preparations  which  had  been  making  for  the  invasion  of  England 
were  apparently  continued,  but  at  the  same  time  an  armament  was  fitting 
out  at  Toulon,  the  destination  of  which  was  kept  a  profound  secret.  It 
consislod  of  thirteen  ships  of  the  line,  with  other  vessels,  amounting  in  all  to 
(oriy-five  sail,  besides  200  transoorts,  on  board  of  which  were  20,000  choice 


Im 


680 


THB  TRBABDRY  OF  HISTORY. 


troops,  with  horses,  artillery,  and  an  immense  quantity  of  provisions  aiid 
military  stores.  All  Kiirope  beheld  with  astonishment  and  apprehension 
these  mighty  preparations,  and  seemed  to  wait  in  awful  expectation  Tor 
the  storm  of  war  that  was  about  to  burst  on  some  devoted  land.  This 
armament,  which  was  under  the  command  of  General  Bonaparte,  set.  sail 
May  20tli,  and  having  taken  possession  of  tlie  island  of  Malta  on  the  Igt 
of  .June,  proceeded  towards  Egypt,  where  it  arrived  at  the  beginning  uf 
July  :  its  ultimate  destination  being  said  to  be  the  Kast  Indies,  via  the 
Red  Sea.  Sir  Horatio  Nelson,  who  was  sent  in  pursuit  of  the  French 
fleet,  being  wholly  ignorant  of  its  destination,  sailed  for  Naples,  where  he 
obtained  information  of  the  surrender  of  Malta,  and  accordingly  directed 
his  course  towards  that  island.  On  his  arrival  he  had  the  mortification 
to  find  that  Bonaparte  was  gone,  and  conjecturing  that  he  had  sailed  to 
Alexandria,  he  immediately  prepared  to  follow.  He  was,  however,  again 
^disappointed,  for  on  reaching  Alexandria  he  learned  that  the  enemy  had 
not  been  there.  After  this,  the  British  squadron  proceeded  to  Rhodes, 
and  thence  to  Sicily,  where  they  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  that  thu 
enemy  had  been  off  Candia  about  a  month  before,  and  had  gone  to  Alex- 
andria. Thitherward  they  pressed  all  sail,  and  on  the  Ist  of  August 
descried  the  French  fleet  lying  in  Aboukir  bay.  Bonaparte  had  landed 
his  army  on  the  5th  of  July,  and  having  made  himself  master  of  Alex- 
andria, he  drew  up  his  transports  within  the  inner  harbour  of  that  city, 
and  proceeded  with  his  army  along  the  banks  of  the  Nile.  The  French 
ffeet,  commanded  by  Admiral  Brueys,  was  drawn  up  near  the  shore,  in  a 
compact  line  of  battle,  flanked  by  four  frigates,  and  protected  in  the  front 
by  a  batt(Ty  planted  on  a  small  island.  Nelson  decided  on  an  immedia  e 
attack  that  evening,  and  regardless  of  the  position  of  the  French,  led  hid 
fleet  between  them  and  the  shore,  so  as  to  place  his  enemies  between  two 
fires.  The  victory  was  complete.  Nine  ships  of  the  line  were  taken, 
one  was  burnt  by  her  captain,  and  the  admiral's  ship,  L'Orient,  was  blown 
up  in  the  action,  with  her  commander  and  the  greater  part  of  her  crew 
The  loss  of  the  English  was  900  sailors  killed ;  that  of  the  French  far 
greater.  The  glorious  conduct  of  the  brave  men  who  achieved  this 
signal  triumph  was  the  theme  of  every  tongue,  and  the  intrepid  Nelson 
was  rewarded  with  a  peerage  and  a  pension. 

The  victory  of  the  Nile  produced  a  powerful  effect  throughout  Europe. 
The  formidable  preparations  which  had  menaced  Asia  and  Africa  with 
immediate  ruin  were  overthrown,  and  seemed  to  leave  behind  them  an 
everlasting  monument  of  the  extreme  folly  and  uncertainty  of  human 
undertakings.  The  deep  despondency  which  had  darkened  the  horizon 
of  Europe  was  suddenly  dispelled,  the  dread  of  Gallic  vengeance  seemed 
to  vanish  in  a  moment,  and  the  minds  of  men  were  awakened  into  action 
by  the  ardent  desire  of  restoring  tranquillity  to  Europe.  A  second  >ali. 
tion  was  immediately  formed  against  France,  under  the  auspices  of  Great 
Britain,  and  was  entered  into  by  Austria,  Russia,  the  Ottoman  Porte,  and 
Naples.  Towards  the  close  of  the  year  the  island  of  Minorca  surrendered, 
with  scarcely  a  show  of  resistance,  to  General  Stuart  and  Commodore 
Duckworth. 

We  must  now  take  a  glance  of  the  state  of  British  affairs  in  India. 
Tippoo  Saib  having  entered  into  a  secret  correspondence  with  the  French 
republic,  the  governor-general  demanded  an  explanation  of  his  uitentions; 
and  as  this  demand  was  not  complied  with.  General  Harris  uivaded  his 
territories.  After  some  slight  engagements,  the  British  army  advanced  to 
Seritigapatam,  the  capital  of  Tippoo,  and  on  the  4th  of  May,  after  a  gal- 
lant and  desperate  resistance,  they  succeeded  in  taking  it,  the  sultan  being 
killed  while  defending  the  fortress. 

A.  D.  17911. — In  consequence  of  the  confederacy  which  had  been  formed 
against  the  French  republic,  the  campaign  of  this  year  became  particu 


THE  TRBASUHY  OF  liJrtTORY 


681 


larly  interesting.  A  French  army  which  hiid  iulvimced  iiue  Siiabia.  nn 
der  General  Joiirdani  was  opposed  by  the  Austriana  iiiuler  the  archduite 
Charles,  and  being:  discomfited,  was  compelled  to  retreat  into  Switzerland. 
The  Austrians  pursued  them  as  far  as  Zurich,  where  they  were  enabled 
to  l^,^<''Bi  stand  until  they  received  reinforcements.  In  the  meantime,  an 
,«nny  of  Austrians  and  Russians,  under  General  Suwarrow.  having  obliged 
the  French  to  relinquish  their  conquests  in  Italy,  they  determined  to 
hasten  to  the  assistance  of  the  archduke ;  but  being  anticipated  by  the 
French  general,  Massena,  the  Austrians  were  obliaed  to  retreat  in  great 
haste,  and  the  Russians  were  surrounded  so  completely,  that  only  5,000, 
with  their  general,  escaped.  In  fact,  so  severe  were  the  several  (iontests, 
that  in  the  space  of  fifteen  days  30,000  men  on  both  sides  fell  victims  to 
the  unsparing  sword. 

While  these  events  were  transacting  in  Italy  and  Switzerland,  an  at- 
tempt was  made  by  Great  Britain  to  drive  the  French  from  Holland,  and 
to  reinstate  the  prince  of  Orango  in  his  authority  as  stadtholder.     A  land- 
ing was  accordingly  effected  at  the  mouth  of  the  Texel,  under  Sir  Ralph 
Abercrombie ;  and  immediately  afterwards  the  British  fleet,  commanded  by 
Admiral  Mitchell,  entered  the  Zuider  Zee,  and  captured  eight  ships  of  the 
line,  besides  some  smaller  vessels  of  war  and  four  Indiamen.     On  the  13th 
of  September  the  duke  of  York  assumed  the  chief  command  of  the  army, 
which  amounted  to  35,000  men,  including  17,000  Russians.    This  army 
was  at  first  successful,  and  drove  the  French  from  their  positions ;  but 
their  reinforcements  arriving,  and  the  British  commanders  finding  no  sup- 
port from  the  Dutch,  a  suspension  of  arms  was  agreed  upon,  and  the  duke 
resolved  to  rr'hnnish  the  enterprise.     Holland  was  consequently  evacu- 
ated; and,i"^  >  >  j>i'ce  of  being  allowed  tore-embark  without  molestation 
8  000  seanier.  ni;ici  or  French,  prisoners  in  FiUgland,  were  to  be  liberated. 
After  the  I   .  ^  of  the  Nile,  Bonaparte  led  his  army  into  Palestine,  with 
the  avowed  intention  of  taking  possession  of  Jerusalem,  rebuilding  the 
temple,  and  restoring  the  Jews.     El-Arisch  and  Gaza  surrendered  to  him, 
Jaffa  was  carried  by  storm,  and  he  rapidly  advanced  is  far  as  the  city  of 
Acre,  which  he  invested  with  an  army  of  10,000  select  troops;  but  here 
he  met  with  an  <     i)nent  who  arrested  his  progress.    The  pacha  had  the 
assistance  of  that  gallant  Englishman,  Sir  Sidney  Smith,  whose  former 
daring  exploits  on  the  coasts  of  France  had  rendered  his  name  far  more 
familiar  than  agreeable  to  Gallic  ears.    On  the  20th  of  March,  Bonapartj 
opened  his  trenches  ;  but  a  flotilla  conveying  part  of  his  besieging  train 
had  been  captured  by  Sir  Sidney  Smith,  who  was  on  board  the  Tigre  of 
84  guns,  then  lying  off  Acre,  and  the  enemy's  guns  were  employed  in  its 
defence.    However,  the  French  made  a  breach,  and  attempted  to  carry 
the  place  by  assault,  but  were  again  and  again  repulsed  with  great  loss. 
An  alternation  of  attacks  and  sorties  followed  for  the  space  of  sixty  days, 
during  which  Bonaparte  uselessly  sacrificed  an  immense  number  of  his 
bravest  soldiers,  and  at  last  was  compelled  to  raise  the  siege.    Having  re- 
ceived intelligence  of  the  arrival  of  a  Turkish  army  in  Egypt,  Napoleon 
returned  from  Palestine  across  the  deserts  of  Arabia,  and  on  the  25th  ol 
July  obtained  a  great  victory  over  the  Turks  near  the  Pyramids. 

But  he  was  now  about  to  enter  on  a  new  theatre  of  action.  Party  dis- 
sensions in  France,  her  danger  of  external  foes,  and  the  opportunity 
which  was  thereby  afforded  to  the  ambition  of  this  extraordinary  leader, 
st^ems  to  have  suddenly  determined  him  to  leave  Egypt.  He  accordingly 
left  the  army  to  General  Kleber,  and  sailed  with  all  imaginable  secresy 
from  Aboukir;  his  good  fortune  enabling  him,  and  the  few  friends  he  took 
with  him,  to  reach  F'rcjus  on  the  7th  of  October,  unobserved  and  unmo- 
lested. Finding  that  the  people  generally  approved  of  the  step  he  had 
taken,  and  that  while  the  corruption  and  mismanHgement  of  the  directory 
4ad  rendered  them  very  u.ipopular,  he  was  regarded  •*«  the  goofl  geiiiua 


ii2 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


of  Fraiu^e,  ho  in  the  true  Cromwellian  fashion,  with  the  assistance  of  a 
strong  party,  dissolvesi  '.he  assembly  of  representatives,  and  usurped  the 
government  with,  the  title  of  chief  consul,  which  was  at  first  conferred  on 
him  for  ten  years,  but  was  afterwards  confirnied  for  life. 

In  order  to  render  his  usurpation  popular,  Bonaparte  began  to  make 
professions  of  a  pacific  character,  and  entered  into  a  correspondence  fur 
a  negotiation  with  the  principal  powers  at  war  with  the  republic.  In  his 
conimunicaHons  with  the  allied  sovereigns  he  departed  from  the  forms 
sanctioned  '  the  custom  of  nations,  and  personally  addressed  his  letters 
to  the  mo:  .>rchs.  The  substance  of  the  note  addressed  to  his  Britannic 
majesty  was  conveyed  in  two  questions,  "  Whether  the  war  which  had 
for  eight  years  ravaged  the  four  quarters  of  the  dobe,  was  to  be  eternal ;' 
and  "  Whether  there  were  no  means  by  which  France  and  England  might 
come  to  a  good  understanding }"  In  answer  to  this  letter,  an  official  note 
was  returned  by  Mr.  Grenville,  who  dwelt  much  on  the  bad  faiih  of  revo- 
lutionary  rulers,  and  the  '..stability  of  France  smce  the  subversion  of  the 
ancient  monarchy.  The  overture  which  was  transmitted  to  the  court  ol 
Vienna  was  of  a  similar  nature,  and  experienced  similar  treatment;  but 
the  emperor  of  Russia,  being  disgu^'.ed  with  the  conduct  of  Austria  in  the 
late  campaign,  withdrew  from  the  confederacy. 

A.  D.  1800. — The  often  discussed  question  of  a  legislative  union  between 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland  engaged  the  attention  of  politicians  at  this  time, 
and  gave  rise  to  much  angry  feeling.  Some  serious  difficulties  had  arisen 
from  the  existence  of  independent  legislatures  in  England  and  Ireland,  and 
there  was  reason  to  fear  that  while  separate  interests  were  made  para- 
mount to  the  general  good,  old  grievances  might  again  lead  to  disaflTectioi , 
and  the  result  be  a  dismemberment  of  the  empire.  To  prevent  such  an 
evil  the  ministers  of  the  day  considered  their  bounden  duty;  and  though 
the  measure  at  first  met  with  great  opposition,  it  was  eventually  carried 
by  considerable  majorities,  and  took  place  on  the  1st  of  January,  1801, 
By  this  arrangement  the  Irish  were  to  have  a  share  of  all  the  commerce 
of  Great  Britain,  except  such  parts  of  it  as  belonged  to  chartered  companies. 
The  commons  of  Ireland  to  be  represented  in  the  imperial  parliament  by 
a  hundrea  members  ;  the  spiritual  and  temporal  peerag  ;  of  that  country 
by  (our  bishops  and  twenty-eight  lay-lords,  holding  their  seats  for  life. 

During  the  past  winter  and  the  early  part  of  spring  the  greatest  distress 
was  felt  by  the  poorer  classes  on  account  of  the  scarcity  and  extraordinary 
high  price  of  bread ;  in  order  to  mitigate  which,  an  act  was  passed  pro 
hibiting  the  sale  of  that  great  necessary  of  life  until  it  had  been  baked 
twenty-four  hours,  from  a  well-founded  notion  that  the  consumption  ot 
stale  bread  would  be  much  less  than  new. 

On  the  15th  of  May,  as  the  king  was  reviewing  a  battalion  of  the  guards 
in  Hyde  Park,  a  ball  was  fired  in  one  of  the  vollies  by  a  soldier,  which 
wounded  a  gentleman  who  was  standing  not  many  yards  from  his  majes- 
ty ;  but  whether  it  was  from  accident  or  design  could  not  be  discovered 
And  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day  a  much  more  alarming  circumstance 
occurred  at  Drury-lane  theatre.  At  the  moment  his  majesty  entered  l!ie 
royal  box,  a  man  stood  up  in  the  pit  and  discharged  a  pistol  at  the  king 
the  ball  providentially  missed  him,  and  the  offender  was  immediately 
seized,  when  it  appeared  that  his  name  was  James  Hatfield,  formerly  a 
private  soldier,  and  that  he  was  occasionally  afflicted  with  mental  derange- 
ment, from  a  wound  he  had  received  in  the  head.  He  was  accordingly 
"  provided  for"  as  a  lunatic.  The  consternation  occasioned  by  these 
occurrences  was  succeeded  by  many  signal  proofs  of  affectionate  loyaltv, 
especially  on  the  4th  of  June,  h^s  majesty's  birth-day. 

The  campaign  of  1800  was  opened  with  great  resolution  on  both  sides. 
Independently  of  the  other  troops  of  France,  an  additional  army  of  60,000 
men  was  assembled  at  Dijon,  and  it  was  publicly  announced  in  the  French 


papers, 

and  in  Ii 
iinportui 
licity  of 
8equenc( 
Italy,  ui 
Genoese 
der  of  G 
suddenly 
St.  Berna 
into  the  ^ 
reinforcei 
rear  of  th( 
encounter 
vantage;  ; 
The  Austi 
mencing  t 
defeat  of  t, 
rived  with 
the  Austriii 
the  French 
following  d 
was  grante 
after,  Bona, 
On  the  3; 
was  signall 
being  10,00( 
that  the  emj 
This  was  fc 
on  the  9th  ( 
A.  D.  1801 
royal  style 
United  Kii 
Faith;"  the' 
aside.    On 
lors  for  the 
presented  t 
By  the  tre 
the  French 
common  en€ 
Paul  of  Rusi 
armed  neutri 
without  subi 
juncture  the 
offices.    The 
lie  emancipat 
to  obtain  a  re 
the  king's 
conscientious 
tion  of  his  a 
which,  there 
of  Ireland 
clergy  of  the 
majesty,  a  ne 
Mr.  Addingtor 
exchequer; 
first  lord  of 
taries  of  state 


t( 


t 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


6ej 


papers,  lliat  it  was  intended  as  a  reinforcement  to  the  armies  on  the  Rhine 
and  in  Italy,  as  circumstances  might  require.  No  one  suspected  lliat  any 
important  plan  of  military  operations  was  concealed  by  the  affected  pub- 
licity of  tins  arrangement,  so  no  precaution  was  taken  to  obviate  the  con- 
sequences  which  might  -xrise  from  its  movements.  The  Auslrians  in 
Italy,  under  General  Meias,  i'tKcked  Massena  in  the  territory  of  the 
Genoese  ;  and  being  su^^cessful  in 'several  obstinate  conflicts,  the  surren- 
der of  Genoa  with  its  garrison  followed.  Just  at  this  time  Bonaparte 
suddenly  joined  the  army  of  reserve  at  Dijon,  crossed  the  Alps  over  Mount 
St.  Bernard,  which  before  had  been  deemed  impracticable,  and  descended 
into  the  Milanese  without  opposition.  Having  received  some  powerful 
reinforcements  from  the  army  in  Switzerland  he  placed  himselt"  iii  the 
rear  of  the  Austrian  army,  and  resolved  on  hazarding  a  battle.  Their  first 
encounter  was  the  battle  of  Montobello,  in  which  the  French  had  the  ad- 
vantage; and  it  served  as  a  prelude  to  the  decisive  battle  of  Marengo. 
The  Austrians  numbered  G0,000 ;  the  French,  50,000 ;  the  former  com- 
mencing the  fight  with  unusual  spirit  and  success.  For  a  long  time  the 
defeat  of  the  French  seemed  inevitable.  But  General  Desaix  having  ar« 
rived  with  a  reinforcement  towards  evening,  a  terrible  carnage  ensued,  and 
the  Austrians  were  totally  routed.  The  loss  on  each  side  was  terrific; 
the  French  stating  tlieirs  at  12,000,  and  the  Austrians  at  15,000.  On  the 
following  day  a  cessation  of  hostilities  was  proposed  by  the  allies,  which 
was  granted  on  condition  of  their  abandoning  Piedmont.  Immediately 
after,  Bonaparte  re-established  the  Cisalpine  republic. 

On  the  3;-d  of  December  the  Austrian  army,  under  the  archduke  John, 
was  signally  defeated  at  Hohenlinden,  by  General  iviw.°au;  their  hos 
being  10,000  men  and  eighty  pieces  of  cannon;  the  effect  of  which  was, 
that  the  emperor  was  driven  to  the  necessity  of  soliciting  an  armistice. 
This  was  followed  by  a  treaty  of  peace,  which  was  signed  at  Luueville, 
on  the  9lh  of  February,  1801. 

A.  D.  1801. — On  the  1st  of  January  a  royal  proclamation  announced  the 
royal  style  and  title  as  "  George  the  Third,  by  the  grace  of  God,  of  the 
United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  King,  Defender  of  the 
Faith  ;"  the  absurd  titular  assumption  of  king  of  France  being  now  laid 
aside.  On  the  3rd  his  Majesty's  council  look  the  oaths  as  privy  council- 
lors far  the  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  ;  and  the  king 
presented  the  lord  chancellor  with  a  new  great  seal  made  for  the  union. 

By  the  treaty  of  Luneville,  Great  Britain  became  the  only  opponent  oL' 
the  French  republic,  and  was  placed  in  a  situation  requiring  more  than 
common  energy  and  prudence.  Influenced  by  the  capricious  emperor 
Paul  of  Russia,  the  principal  northern  powers  resolved  on  reviving  the 
armed  neutrality,  and  claimed  a  right  of  trading  to  the  ports  of  France, 
without  submitting  to  their  vessels  being  searched.  At  this  critical 
juncture  the  British  ministry,  on  the  llih  of  February,  resigned  their 
oflSces.  The  ostensible  cause  was  a  misunderstanding  relative  to  catho- 
lic emancipation.  It  was  understood  that  Mr.  Pitt  had  pledged  himself 
to  obtain  a  repeal  of  the  disabilities  legally  pending  over  that  body  ;  but 
the  king's  objections  to  the  measure  were  too  deeply  rooted,  and  too 
conscientiously  formed  (it  being,  as  he  believed,  contrary  to  the  obliga- 
tion of  his  coronation  oath),  for  the  minister  to  remove  tliem  ;  added  to 
which,  there  was  the  well-known  dislike  entertained  by  the  protestants 
of  Ireland  to  encounter  a  catholic  magistracy,  and  the  fears  of  the 
clergy  of  the  established  church.  Owing  to  the  indisposition  of  his 
majesty,  a  new  ministry  was  not  formed  till  the  middle  of  March,  when 
Mr.  Addlngton  was  chosen  first  lord  of  the  treasury  and  chancellor  of  the 
exchequer;  Lord  Eldon,  lord  high  chancellor;  the  earl  of  St.  Vincent, 
first  lord  of  the  admiralty ;  the  lords  Hawkesbury  and  Pelham,  secre- 
taries of  state ;  and  the  Hon.  Col.  Yorke    secretary  of  war.    There  is 


»4 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


little  duubt  that  the  new  ministers  were  brought  forward  to  do  what  their 
predecessors  were  unable  or  unwilling  to  accomplish,  namely,  the  putting 
an  end  to  the  war,  and  evading  the  agitation  o(  the  catholic  quesiiun. 
Mr.  Addington,  it  is  true,  had  given  general  satisfaction  as  speaker  of 
the  house  of  commons,  and  he  had  acquired  the  king's  personal  favours 
by  his  decorous  manner  and  respectable  character ;  but  iieitiier  he  nur 
his  colleagues  had  any  political  reputation  to  entitle  them  to  be  entrusted 
with  the  pilotage  of  the  vessel  of  the  state,  especially  where  it  was 
necessary  to  ntef  t*  her  amid  the  rocks  and  breakers  of  a  tempestuous  sea. 
In  order  to  unt  -act  the  designs  of  the  northern  confederates,  an  arma- 
ment wan  .y  ot't  in  the  British  ports  consisting  of  17  sail  of  the  line 
with  frigates,  uomb-vessels,  &c.,  and  entrusted  to  the  tommand  of  Ad- 
miral Sir  Hyde  Parker  and  Vice-Admiral  Lord  Nelson.  The  fleet 
embarked  at  Yarmouth  on  the  12th  of  March,  and  having  passed  the 
Sound  with  very  trifling  opposition,  appeared  before  Copenhagen  on  the 
30th.  Batteries  of  cannon  and  mortars  were  placed  on  every  part  of  the 
shore  where  they  might  be  used  in  annoying  the  English  fleet ;  the 
mouth  of  the  harbour  being  protected  by  a  chain,  and  by  a  fort  construct, 
ed  on  piles.  An  attack  on  this  formidable  crescent  was  entrusted,  at 
his  own  request,  to  Nelson,  with  twelve  ships  of  the  line  and  all  the 
smaller  craft.  It  began  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  was  kept  up 
on  both  sides  with  great  courage  and  prodigious  slaughter  for  four  hours; 
by  which  time  17  sail  of  the  enemy  had  been  burnt,  sunk,  or  taken ;  while 
three  of  the  largest  of  the  English  ships,  owing  to  the  intricacies  of  the 
navigation,  had  grounded  within  reach  of  the  enemy's  land  batteries.  At 
this  juncture  Nelson  proposed  a  truce,  to  which  the  prince  of  Denmark 
promptly  acceded.  The  loss  of  the  English  in  killed  and  wounded  was 
942 ;  that  of  the  Danes  1800.  The  sudden  death  of  Paul,  emperor  oi 
Russia,  who,  it  has  been  authentically  said,  was  strangled  in  his  palace, 
caused  a  change  in  foreign  afl'airs.  His  eldest  son,  Alexander,  ascended 
the  throne,  and.  renouncing  the  politics  of  his  father,  entered  into  a  treaty 
of  amity  with  England;  the  northern  confederacy  was  consequently  dis- 
solved. 

At  the  time  the  expedition  to  Copenhagen  was  on  the  eve  of  departure, 
a  considerable  British  force  had  boen  sent  to  Egypt,  in  order  to  eflecl  the 
expulsion  of  the  French  from  that  country.  This  was  under  the  command 
of  Sir  Ralph  Abercrombie,  who  on  the  8th  of  March  efl'ected  a  disembarka- 
tion, with  great  spirit,  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  at  Aboukir,  the  fort  of 
which  surrendered  on  the  19th.  General  Kleber,  who  commanded  the 
French  troops  in  Egypt  after  the  departure  of  Bonaparte,  had  been  assas- 
sinated, and  Menou  was  now  the  general-in-chief.  On  the  13th  a  severe 
action  took  place,  in  which  the  English  had  the  advantage  ;  hut  on  theSlgt 
the  celebrated  battle  of  Alexandria  was  fought.  The  force  on  each  side  was 
about  12,000;  and  before  daylight  the  French  commenced  the  attack.  A 
long,  desperate  engagement  succeeded;  but  at  length  the  assailants  were 
defeited,  and  the  famous  corps  of  "  Invincibles  "  almost  annihilated.  The 
loss  of  the  French  in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners,  was  upwards  of 
3500 ;  that  of  the  British  1400 ;  among  whom  was  the  gallant  Sir  Ralph 
Abercrombie,  who  nobly  terminated  a  long  career  of  military  glory.  He 
was  wounded  in  the  thigh,  about  the  middle  of  the  day;  but  that  he  might 
not  damp  the  ardour  of  his  troops,  he  concealed  his  anguish  until  the  b<it 
tie  was  won. 

The  command  of  the  British  troops  devolved  on  General  Hutchinson, 
an  able  ofl[icer,  and  the  intimate  friend  of  Sir  Ralph,  who  having  made 
himself  master  of  the  ports  of  Rosetta,  Cairo,  and  Alexandria,  completed 
the  conquest  of  Egypt  about  the  middle  of  September  ;  when  the  French 
capitulated,  upon  condition  of  their  being  conveyed,  with  their  arms,  Hrlil- 
lery,  &c.,  to  their  own  country.     A  large  detachment  of  troops  fromlbo 


Indiari  { 

after  thf 

The  n 

the  preli 

part  of  tt 

nic  majei 

March,  1 

quests,  e 

The  Cap 

powers. 

ish,  and  i 

was  to  t 

Naples. 

lories  and 

viously  to 

main  entii 

repubKc  o; 

of  Newfoi 

The  resi 

joy,  and  h 

on  which  i 

habitants  ( 

house  of  c( 

man  is  glac 

tendency  o 

prognosticii 

E respect  wi 
etween  th 
Having  in 
was  appoint 
this  occasio 
o[  honour-j 
bravery,  ant 
their  strict  ^ 
Before  we 
able  conspir 
considerab 
family  and 
valour  and  g 
fields  prison 
liambeth,  wi 
labouring  c 
peared  that 
violent  fellov 
ent  governin 
measure,  it  w 
the  Bank  and 
these  plans 
execution,  W( 
cerned  in  tt. 
conspiracy,  it 
the  designs  o 
dragged  from 
After  a  trial  v 
and  on  the  21 
conspirators, 
fiespard  decli 
sorrow,  or  coi 


THE  TllEASUKY  OP  HISTORY. 


6e»> 


Indian  army  arrived,  bv  way  of  the  Red  Sea,  under  Sir  David  Baird,  jii«i 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  treaty. 

The  news  of  tliis  important  event  reached  Rnghtnd  on  the  same  day  that 
the  prehminaries  of  a  peace  with  France  were  signed  by  Mr.  Otto,  on  the 
part  of  the  French  republic,  and  Lord  Hawkesbury,  on  the  part  of  his  Britan- 
nic majesty.  The  definitive  treaty  was  concluded  at  Amiens  on  tlio  27tli  of 
March,  1802 ;  by  which  Great  Britain  consented  to  restore  all  her  eon- 
quests,  except  the  island  of  Trinidad,  and  the  Dutch  possessions  in  Ceylon. 
The  Cape  of  Good  Hope  was  to  remain  a  free  port  to  all  the  contracting 
powers.  Malta,  with  its  dependencies,  was  to  be  evacuated  by  the  Brit- 
ish, and  restored  to  the  order  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem  ;  while  the  island 
was  to  be  placed  under  the  protection  and  sovereignty  of  the  king  of 
Naples.  Egypt  was  to  be  restored  to  the  Sublime  Porte,  whose  terri- 
tories and  possessions  were  to  be  preserved  entire,  as  they  existed  pre- 
viously to  the  war.  The  territories  of  the  queen  of  Portugal  were  to  re- 
main entire  ;  and  the  French  agreed  to  evacuate  Rome  and  Naples.  The 
republic  of  the  Seven  Islands  was  recognised  by  France  ;  and  the  fishery 
of  Newfoundland  was  established  on  its  former  footing. 

The  restoration  of  peace  was  universally  received  with  transports  ol 
joy,  and  was  in  itself  a  measure  so  necessary  and  desirable,  that  the  terms 
on  which  it  had  been  concluded  were  passed  over  in  silence  by  ttie  in- 
habitants of  both  countries.  When  the  subject  was  alluded  to  in  the 
house  of  commons,  Mr.  Sheridan  observed,  "  it  is  a  peace  of  which  every 
man  is  glad,  but  of  which  no  man  is  proud."  But  thougli  this  apparent 
tendency  of  the  two  nations  to  forget  their  mutual  animosities  seemed  to 
prognosticate  a  long  continuance  of  the  blessings  of  peace,  the  happy 

Erospect  was  soon  interrupted  by  symptoms  of  jealousy  yvhich  appeared 
etween  the  respective  governments. 

Having  in  various  ways  gained  the  popular  voice  in  his  favour,  Bonaparte 
was  appointed  consul  for  life,  wit)  'he  power  of  naming  a  successor.  On 
this  occasion,  he  instituted  a  r  blican  order  of  nobility — the  legion 
of  honour — to  be  conferred  on  military  men  as  a  reward  for  skill  and 
bravery,  and  on  citizens  who  distinguished  themselves  by  their  talents  or 
their  strict  administration  of  justice. 

Before  we  enter  upon  a  new  chapter,  we  are  bound  to  notice  a  treason- 
able conspiracy  by  certain  obscure  individuals,  which,  at  the  time,  caused 
considerable  alarm.  Colonel  Despard,  an  Irish  gentleman  of  respectable 
family  and  connections,  who  had  formerly  given  distinguished  proofs  of 
valour  and  good  conduct,  but  had  subsequently  been  confined  in  Cold-batl.< 
fields  prison  for  seditious  practices,  was  apprehended  at  the  Oakley-Arms, 
Lambeth,  with  thirty-six  of  his  confederates,  principally  consisting  of  the 
labouring  classes,  and  among  them  three  soldiers  of  the  guards.  It  ap- 
peared tiiat  on  his  liberation  from  prison,  Despard  induced  a  number  of 
violent  fellows  to  believe  that  they  were  capable  of  subverting  the  pres- 
ent government,  and  establishing  a  democracy.  In  order  to  effect  this 
measure,  it  was  proposed  to  assassinate  the  king  and  royal  family,  to  seize 
tiie  Bank  and  Tower,  and  imprison  the  members  of  parliament.  Vast  as 
these  plans  were,  yet  it  appeared  that  the  time,  mode,  and  place  for  their 
execution,  were  arranged  ;  though  only  fifty  or  sixty  persons  were  con- 
cerned in  tt.  Information  having  been  conveyed  to  mitiisters  of  this  bold 
conspiracy,  its  progress  was  narrowly  watched,  and  at  the  moment  when 
the  designs  of  the  traitors  were  ripe  for  execution  they  were  suddenly 
dragged  from  their  rendezvous  and  fully  committed  on  a  charge  of  treason. 
After  a  trial  which  lasted  eighteen  hours  the  colonel  was  found  guilty ; 
and  on  the  21sf  of  February,  1890,  this  misguided  man,  with  six  fellow 
conspirators,  was  executed  on  the  top  of  the  new  gaol  in  SouthwarJ 
Despard  declined  spiritual  assistance,  and  met  his  fate  without  contritioi 
sorrow,  or  concern :  the  others  suffered  death  with  decency. 


S8i 


THK  TREASUHY  OB'  HISTOttY. 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

THK    RKIOK    or    OEOROB  III.  (CONTINOED.) 

A.  n.  1803.— Thk  treaty  of  Amiens  proved  delusive,  and  both  combat 
ants,  jealous  and  watchful,  stood  ready  to  renew  the  conflict.  The  un 
bounded  ambition  of  the  French  consul  induced  him  to  take  every  oppor- 
tunity of  insulting  our  ambassadors,  in  order  to  occasion  a  renewal  of 
fiostilities.  Peace  had  hardly  been  concluded,  when  the  whole  fortresses 
of  Piedmont  were  dismantled,  and  that  country  was  annexed  to  France. 
The  same  measures  were  pursued  with  regard  to  Parma  and  Placentia; 
and  a  numerous  army  was  sent  against  Switzerland,  and  that  government 
was  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  dependents  of  Bonaparte.  Notwithstand- 
ing these  and  several  other  acts  of  tyranny,  his  Britannic  majesty  ear- 
nestly endeavoured  to  avoid  a  recurrence  to  anns,  and  seemed  willing  to 
suffer  the  most  unwarrantable  aggressions,  rather  than  again  involve 
I'iUrope  in  the  horrors  of  war.  Tliis  was  construed  by  the  Corsican  into 
a  dread  of  his  ill-gotten  power.  Some  official  papers  were  afterwards 
presented  to  the  British  ministry,  in  whi^-u  he  required  that  the  Prencii 
emigrants  who  had  found  shelter  in  England  should  be  banished;  that 
the  liberty  of  the  press  in  Britain  should  be  abridged,  because  some  of 
the  newspapers  had  drawn  his  character  with  a  truthful  (len ;  and  it  ap- 
peared, indeed,  that  nothing  short  of  a  species  of  dictation  in  the  domestic 
affairs  of  Great  Britain  was  likely  to  satisfy  him.  Such  insolent  preten- 
sions could  not  be  brooked ;  all  ranks  of  men  seemed  to  rouse  from  their 
lethargy,  and  the  general  wish  was  to  uphold  the  country's  honour  by  a 
renewed  appeal  to  arms. 

The  extensive  warlike  preparations  going  fot  ward  about  this  time  in 
the  ports  of  France  and  Holland,  excited  the  jealousy  of  the  British  min- 
istry ;  though  it  was  pretended  that  they  were  designed  to  reduce  their 
revolted  colonies  to  obedience.  An  explanation  of  the  views  of  ilie 
French  government  was  requested  by  Lord  Whitworth,  the  English  am- 
bassador,  but  he  was  openly  insulted  by  the  first  consul,  who  had  the  in- 
decency to  intimate,  in  a  lone  of  gasconade,  that  Great  Britain  was  un;- 
ble  to  contend  single-handed  with  France.  On  the  12th  of  May  Lord 
Whitworth  presented  the  ultimatum  of  the  British  government,  which  be- 
ing  rejected,  war  was  announced  on  the  16th,  by  a  message  from  his 
majesty  to  parliament.  Almost  immediately  upon  this,  Bonaparte  issued 
a  decree  for  ll  detention  of  all  the  English  in  France ;  in  consequence  ot 
which  infringement  of  international  law,  about  12,000  English  subjects, 
of  all  ages,  were  committed  to  custody  as  prisoners  of  war. 

This  event  was  followed  by  the  invasion  of  Hanover  by  a  republican 
army  under  General  iMortier,  thus  openly  violating  the  neutrality  of  the 
German  empire,  and  breaking  the  peace  which  been  separately  concluded 
with  his  majesty,  as  elector  of  Hanover.  His  royal  highness  the  duke 
of  Cambridge,  who  was  at  that  time  in  Hanover,  and  had  the  command 
of  a  small  body  of  troops,  was  resolved  to  oppose  the  progress  of  the 
invaders ;  but  being  urged  by  the  regency  to  retire  from  the  command, 
he  returned  to  England.  In  a  short  time  the  French  made  themselves 
masters  of  the  electorate,  and  committed  the  most  flagrant  acts  of  cruelty 
on  the  unfortunate  inhabitants.  The  Elbe  and  the  Weser  being  now  un- 
der the  control  of  the  French,  these  rivers  were  closed  against  English 
commerce,  and  Bonaparte  also  insisted  that  the  ports  of  Denmark  should 
be  shut  against  the  vessels  of  Great  Britain.  In  retaliation  the  British 
government  gave  orders  for  blockading  the  French  ports. 

But  it  appeared  that  all  minor  schemes  of  aggrandizement  were 
to  give  place  to  the  invasion  and  subjugation  of  Great  Britain;  for  which 
purpose  an  immense  number  of  transports  were  ordered  to  be  built  with 


the  great 

CiiMlt  to    I 

tilia  was 
number  v 
tection,  ti 
lo  watch 
altitude  w 
nel,  gave ; 
tioiiably  a 
regular  ati 
levied,  unc 
Unteer  cot 
defence. 

While  m 

invasion,  a 

to  form  ai 

Emmet,  br( 

lions  transi 

attempt  to 

when  Emm 

arms,  marcl 

carriage  of 

nied  by  his 

riage,  and  b 

the  young  la 

small  party  ( 

Emmet  and  s 

extreme  penj 

acts  were  pa 

enforce  marti 

In  tlie  We 

other  islands 

Donniigo  to  \ 

without  a  mo 

dent  state,  un 

III  the  East 

w,,a  the  famo 

VVellesIey,  w\ 

bined  Mahratt 

Berar. 

A.  D.  ie04.- 
crisis  a  strong 
ership  of  Mr. 
of  Great  Brit; 
he  should  retu 
i'ster  according 
but,  adherint'  ( 
tion,"  Mr.  Pjtt 
CfEsar,  aut  nul 
erfnl  coalition, 
expected  to  be 
vigorous  pros( 
and  induced  th 
Great  as  wa 
advanced  him 
resolved  to  sec 
iii'.'liiiations  of 
pointing  out  th 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


687 


the  greatest  expedition;  and  a  flotilla  was  assembled  at  Boulogiir,  sum- 
cii  lit  to  carry  any  army  which  France  might  wish  to  employ.  This  flo- 
tilla was  frequently  attacked  by  the  English,  and  whenever  any  of  th«Mr 
number  ventured  beyond  the  range  of  the  batteries  erected  for  their  pro- 
tection, they  were  generally  captured  by  cruisers  stationed  ofl"  the  coast 
to  watcli  their  motions.  These  mighty  preparations,  and  the  menacing 
altitude  which  was  not  allowed  to  relax  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  chan- 
nel, gave  a  new  and  vigorous  impetus  to  British  patriotism,  and  propor- 
tioiiably  strengthened  the  hands  of  the  government.  Exclusive  of  the 
regular  and  supplementary  militia,  an  additional  army  of  50,000  men  was 
levied,  under  the  title  of  the  army  of  reserve ;  and  in  a  few  months,  vol- 
unteer corps,  amounting  to  300,000  men,  were  armed  in  their  country's 
defence. 

While  measures  were  being  taken  for  defending  the  country  against 
invasion,  a  new  insurrection  broke  out  in  Ireland,  which  had  for  its  object 
to  form  an  independent  Irish  republic.  It  originated  with  Mr.  Robert 
Emmet,  brother  to  him  who  had  been  so  deeply  implicated  in  the  rebel- 
lious transactions  of  1798,  and  who  had  been  expatriated.  This  rash 
attempt  to  disturb  the  public  tranquillity  was  made  on  the  23d  of  July, 
when  Emmet,  with  a  crowd  of  desperadoes  armed  with  pikes  and  fire- 
arms, marched  through  the  principal  streets  of  Dublin,  and  meeting  the 
carriage  of  Lord  Kilwarden,  chief-justiee  of  Ireland,  who  was  accompa- 
nied by  his  nephew  and  daughter,  the  rufllans  dragged  them  from  the  car- 
riage, and  butchered  the  venerable  judge  and  Mr.  Wolfe  on  the  spot,  but 
the  young  lady  was  allowed  to  escape.  Being  attacked  in  their  turn  by  a 
small  party  of  soldiers,  some  of  the  rioters  were  killed,  and  others  seized. 
Emmet  and  several  of  the  most  active  ringleaders,  afterwards  suffered  the 
extreme  penalty  of  the  law  for  their  offence.  In  the  session  of  November, 
acts  were  passed  to  continue  the  suspension  of  the  habeas  corpus,  and 
enforce  martial  law  in  Ireland. 

In  the  West  Indies  the  English  captured  St.  Lucie,  Ucmerara,  ana 
other  islands.  A  British  fleet  also  assisted  the  insurgent  blacks  of  St. 
Domingo  to  wrest  that  island  from  the  French  ;  but  it  was  not  effected 
without  a  most  sanguinary  contest.  It  was  then  erected  into  an  indepen- 
dent state,  under  its  ancient  Indian  name  of  Hayti. 

Ill  the  E.ist  Indies  much  greater  triumphs  were  achieved;  among  these 
w<is  the  famous  battle  of  Assaye  (Sept.  23),  where  Major-general  Arthur 
Wellcsley,  with  a  comparatively  few  troops,  completely  defeated  the  com- 
bined Mahratta  forces  commanded  by  Scindiah  Holkar  and  the  rajah  of 
Berar. 

A.  D.  If  04. — It  was  the  opinion  of  men  of  all  parties,  that  in  the  present 
crisis  a  stronger  ministry  than  thai  which  had  been  formed  under  the  lead- 
ership of  Mr.  Addington,  was  absolutely  necessary  to  direct  the  councils 
of  Great  Britain;  and  the  friends  of  Mr.  Pitt  became  most  anxious  that 
he  should  return  to  the  adininisiraiion  on  the  renewal  of  war.  The  min- 
ister accordingly  sought  the  aid  of  that  great  statesman  as  an  auxiliary ; 
but,  adhering  to  his  well-known  maxim  'to  accept  of  no  subaltern  situa- 
tion," Mr.  Pitt  plainly  signified  thai  the  premiership  must  be  his  "  Aut 
CiEsar,  aut  nuUus."  Though  many  wore  disappointed  to  find  that  a  pow- 
erful coalition,  in  which  Mr.  Fox  and  his  most  eminent  colleagues  were 
expected  to  be  included,  was  not  formed,  yet  the  manifest  necessity  of  a 
vigorous  prosecution  of  the  war  excited  a  spirit  of  unanimity  .n  the  nation, 
ami  induced  the  parliament  to  second  every  motion  of  the  ministry. 

Great  as  was  the  power  to  which  Bonaparte  had  by  artful  gradations 
advanced  himself,  it  was  not  sulTicieiU  to  satiate  his  ambition;  and  he 
resolved  to  se<-ure  to  himself  the  title  of  emperor,  in  order  to  sound  the 
inclinations  of  the  people,  a  book  had  been  published  some  time  before, 
pointing  out  the  propriety  and  expediency  of  creating  him  emperor  of  the 


«88 


TUB  TBJEAHUUY  OF  HlSlUdY. 


Oauls;  after  which,  un  overture,  equally  insolent  and  abiurd,  was  maf* 
to  Louis  XVIII.,  offunng  him  imtenniitieH  and  a  apluiiuid  eittubliMhnient, 
if  he  would  nMiounce  liis  prctenHions  to  the  crown  of  France.  'I'lua  pro- 
posal beini;  treated  with  the  contempt  it  merited,  Donnparto  rcHolvcd  on 
takinif  away  the  life  of  the  duke  U'Kn({lit'in,  eldest  son  of  the  duke  of 
Bourbon,  on  a  surreptitious  charge  of  having  engaged  in  a  conspiracy 
against  the  first  consul,  and  of  serving  in  the  armies  of  the  eiiugraiits 
against  France.  He  had  fixed  Iiih  residence  at  Kttenheim,  in  the  iicutrdi 
territoiy  of  the  elector  of  Baden,  where  his  chief  occupation  was  study, 
and  his  principal  recreation  the  culture  of  a  small  gard<m.  From  this  ru- 
ral retreat  he  was  dragged  on  the  15th  of  March,  by  a  body  of  French 
cavalry,  under  the  command  of  General  Cauliiicuurt,  and  carried  the  same 
day  to  the  citadel  of  Strasburgh,  where  he  remained  till  the  18ih.  Oa 
the  2(ilU  the  duke  arrived  at  Paris  under  a  guard  of  gens  d'armcs,  and, 
after  some  hours  at  the  barrier,  was  driven  to  Vincennes.  A  military 
commission  appointed  to  try  him  met  the  same  evening  in  the  castle,  and 
the  foul  atrocity  was  completed  by  his  being  sentenced  to  immediate  ex 
ecution ;  which  having  taken  place,  his  body  was  placed  in  a  coffin  partly 
filled  with  lime,  and  buried  in  the  castle  garden. 

Bonaparte  having  now  nothing  to  apprehend  either  from  his  declared 
or  concealed  enemies,  prevailed  on  the  people  to  confer  on  himself  and 
his  heirs  the  imperial  dignity.  Tlie  ceremony  of  his  coronation  accor- 
dingly took  place,  with  remarkable  solemnity,  on  the  19lh  of  November; 
and  in  the  following  February  he  addressed  the  king  of  Great  Britain  a 
letter,  soliciting  the  establishment  of  peace.  The  answer  of  his  Britannic 
majesty  acknowledged  that  no  object  would  be  dearer  to  him  than  euih 
a  peace  as  would  be  consistent  with  the  security  and  interests  of  his  do< 
minions ;  but  it  added,  that  he  declined  entering  into  particular  discussiou 
without  consulting  his  allies. 

A.  D.  1805. — Enraged  at  the  perseverance  of  Great  Britain,  and  elated 
by  the  unparalleled  success  which  had  attended  all  his  measures,  the 
French  emperor  seemed  now  to  consider  himself  as  the  disposer  of  king- 
doms, and  disregarded  all  principles  of  justice  and  moderation.  In  order 
to  secure  his  own  personal  aggrandizement  he  made  an  excursion  to 
Italy,  converted  the  Cisalpine  republic  into  a  kingdom,  and  assumed  the 
title  of  king  of  Italy.  He  then  united  the  Ligurian  republic  to  France, 
and  erected  the  republic  of  Lucca  into  a  principality,  in  favour  of  his  sis- 
ter Eliza,  who  had  married  the  senator  Bacchiachi.  After  these  unpre- 
cedented acts  of  aggression,  he  returned  to  France,  and  being  once  more 
resolved  to  effect  the  subjugation  of  the  British  isles,  he  repaired  to 
Boulogne  and  reviewed  his  troops  there,  which  were  ostentatiously 
named  "  the  army  of  England,"  and  amounted  to  considerably  more  than 
a  hundred  thousand  men. 

Spain  having  been  compelled,  in  consequence  of  its  dependence  on 
France,  to  become  a  party  in  the  war  with  Great  Britain,  Bonaparte  de- 
termined, by  uniting  the  naval  strength  of  both  nations,  to  strike  a  blow 
in  several  parts  of  the  world  at  the  same  time.  The  greatest  activity  ac- 
cordingly prevailed  in  the  French  ports,  where  the  fleets  had  hitherto  re- 
mained inactive ;  and  several  squadrons  having  eluded  the  vigilance  of  the 
British  cruisers,  put  to  sea.  A  squadron  of  five  ships  arrived  in  the  West 
Indies,  and  surprized  the  town  of  Rouseau  in  Dominica ;  but  being  gal- 
lantly opposed  by  General  Provost,  the  governor  of  the  island,  they  levied 
a  contribution  of  five  thousand  pounds,  and  precipitately  re-embarked  their 
troops.  They  next  proceeded  to  St.  Christopher's,  where,  having  made 
great  pecuniary  exactions,  they  seized  all  the  ships  in  the  Basseterre  road. 
These  prizes  were  sent  to  Gaudaloupe;  and  the  French  squadron,  fearful 
of  encountering  the  British  fleet,  returned  to  Europe. 

In  the  meantime  a  formidable  fleet  uf  ton  sail  of  the  line,  with  10,000 


men  on 
neuve ; 

•Spuiiiith 
for  the  V 
Frciicli  ,1 
for  an  all 
JIf  travi  r 
often  slii| 
111'  CDiiclu 
diiitely  (III 
biiii'ij  .squi 
attack  on 
of  NfJNon 
tlifir  suAji' 
the  lirave  j 
patL'lipd  a  I 
ovcrtakiiiir 
haviiiir  relii 
«i.\iy-llu-eo 
On  the  ai 
.•iquadroii,  c 
Kolicrt  Oak 
Koberl  desc 
tlioir  great 
action.     Afi 
in  tho  defcal 
in  liasto  to  , 
Goiirdon,  th( 
they  were  bl 
been  express 
Hdniiriil  in  tli 
qiiiro  into  th 
of  the  whole 
teiiccd  to  bo 
years,  with  In 
Subscquen 
versed  the  be 
with  fmiguci 
He  arrived  .. 
Loiiiion  on  th 
from  his  grat 
remain  in  ina 
was  then  pre 
serving  his  ca 
foliowiiio  (lay 
Afimiral  (Jolfi 
sistcij  oftivci 
learned  that  t 
Ihre';  sail  of  t 
and  (iravina  ; 
immediately 
liis  previous 
'las  since  bet 
liis  duty."     T 
iNelson,  in  thv. 
Royal  Soverei 
"ig  ships  of  t 
tiiroimli  in  all 
Vol.  I.- 


THr.  THKAHUllY  ()K  IIIMTOHY 


6b9 


men  on  bo.inl,  si  l  sail  from  Toiilim.iiiuii  r  ilu:  cuiiiiiia.nl  of  Ailiiiir;»l  VMIo- 
neuvt; :  who,  having  procrcih'd  to  ("ailiz,  was  thtri'  rrniforcM'J  bv  the 
S|iuiii8h  aitniirnl,  (iiaviiia,  uiul  hix  lart{(>  (tliipi,  ami  iininciliaU'ly  iinbarkid 
for  ihc  West  Iii(h(«.  Wlifii  Loril  Ni-lsoii  ri'c-nvcd  information  ih.il  ihe 
Fi't'iii'h  and  SpaiilardH  had  put  tu  sea,  he  HuppoNcd  that  ihiy  wtfrr  dc^itnii-d 
f(n  an  attempt  Oil  Ah'xaiidriu,  and  ai-cordiiij^ly  .set  Hail  in  that  diri.-ctiun. 
He  travcr.scd  thf  Moditrrraneaii  with  tin  utmost crhnity,  haviii|i{  a  squadron 
of  ten  sliipH  with  him  ;  but  fiinnnj}  that  he  was  mistakm  m  his  conji'itiirus, 
III'  concluded  that  the  riieinj  had  saih'd  for  the  West  Indica.  He  iinini'- 
dialoly  directed  hw  course  towards  that  quarter,  and  l>y  driviiis;  the  com- 
biiiitd  .squadrons  from  island  to  island,  he  prevented  tiiem  from  m  ikiii,;  an 
attack  oM  any  of  the  brilish  possessions;  nay,st»  universal  was  ilie  dread 
of  Nelson's  name,  that  they  had  no  sooner  arrived,  than  they  coiisuUed 
iheir  safelv  in  :i  precipitate  lli{,'lil,  ami  li.it-lily  returned  to  Kuropc  Wheu 
the  brave  Nelson  was  assured  of  the  course  of  lis  adversaries,  he  dis- 
patched a  messenger  to  Enjrland,  and  imtm^uiaiely  set  sail  in  liopes  of 
(ivcrtakiiiijf  the  fugitives.  Fie  arrived  at  Gibraltar  on  the  •.'Olli  of  July,  and 
haviiiij  iTtitted  his  ships,  he  resumed  his  position  off  Cape  St.  Vincent, 
sixly-liireo  days  after  his  departure  from  it  for  the  West  Indies. 

On  the  arrival  in  Loiidon  of  the  iiiformatiou  of  the  ciiciiiy's  retreat,  n 
squadron,  consisting  of  fifteen  sail  of  the  line,  was  dispatched  under  Sir 
Kohert  CalJer,  in  th(^  hope  of  intercepting  ttiem.  On  the  2-,>d  of  July  Sir 
Jlobcrl  descried  the  object  of  his  mission,  oP"  Ferrol ;  and,  notwithstanding 
their  great  aupcriorily,  he  did  not  hesitate  a  moment  in  bringing  them  to 
action.  After  an  o!)stinate  engaiieinnnt,  the  uiUMiual  cui.llict  lenninated 
in  the  defeat  of  the  enemy,  who,  having  lust  two  large  ships,  proceeded 
in  haste  to  Ferrol.  Being  reinforced  by  the  admirals  Grandallanu  and 
Gourdon,  they'weighcd  anchor,  and  retiretl  to  the  harbour  of  Cadiz,  where 
they  were  blockaded  by  Sir  Itobert  Caldcr.  Some  dissatisfaction  hiving 
been  expressed  in  the  public  papers,  relative  to  the  conduct  of  the  liritish 
adminil  in  the  engagement  off  Ferrol,  he  aj)plied  for  a  court-martial  to  in- 
quire into  the  subject;  when,  to  his  great  astonishment,  and  to  tin;  regret 
of  tlic  wliole  navy,  he  was  found  guiliy  of  an  error  of  judgment,  and  sen- 
tenced to  be  reprimanded — a  reproach  which  he,  who  had  passed  forty-six 
years  with  honour  in  the  service,  felt  deeply. 

Subsequently  to  his  arrival  at  Cape  St.  Vincent,  Admiral  Nelson  tra- 
versed the  bay  of  Biscay  in  search  of  the  eniMuy ;  but  being  oppressed 
with  fatigues  and  disappointment,  he  resolved  on  returning  to  England 
lie  arrived  at  Portsmouth  on  the  18lh  of  August,  and  having  reached 
London  on  the  20th,  experienced  a  most  cordial  and  affectionate  reception 
from  hi3  grateful  countrymen.  He  would  not,  however,  allow  himself  to 
remain  in  inactivity,  and  being  offered  the  command  of  an  armament  that 
was  then  preparing,  he  without  hesilatioa  embraced  the  opportunity  of 
serving  his  country.  Having  hoisted  his  flag  on  board  t!ie  Victory,  on  the 
foUowiuji  day  he  put  to  sea,  and  on  his  arrival  at  Cadiz  he  received  from 
Admiral  Collingwood  the  coaiinand  of  the  British  fleet,  which  now  con- 
sisted of  twenty-seven  sail  of  the  line.  On  the  I9th  of  October  Nelson 
learned  that  the  combined  French  and  Spanish  fleets,  consisting  of  thirty- 
threo  sail  of  the  line,  had  put  to  sea  from  Cadiz,  under  admirals  Villeneuve 
and  Gravina  ;  and  on  the  21st  he  discovered  them  off  Cape  Trafalgar.  He 
immediately  ordered  the  fleet  to  bear  up,  in  two  coin  muss,  as  directed  by 
his  previous  plan  of  attack;  and  issued  this  a  imonitory  signal — which 
lias  since  become  a  national  proverb — "England  expects  every  man  to  do 
his  duty."  The  windward  column  of  the  English  ships  was  led  by  Lord 
Nelson,  in  the  Victory;  the  leeward  by  Rear-admiral  Collingwood,  in  the 
Royal  Sovereign.  About  noon  the  awful  contest  commenced,  by  the  lead- 
ing sliips  of  the  columns  piercing  the  enemy's  line ;  the  others  breaking 
tiirouuh  in  all  parts,  and  engaging  their  adversaries  at  the  muzzle  of  their 
Vol.  I — 44 


no 


TIIK  TREA8UHY  OF  HISTORY. 


|Uiin.  Tlie  enemy  foiiKhl  willi  intrepid  spirit ;  hut  the  superior  «kill  which 
opposed  tliein  waH  recislli  »h.  Tlie  fury  of  the  liulll(!  wan  MUhl.timd  f„, 
three  hours,  when  many  shipn  of  the  <(inilinie(i  tieel  havnii^  Nirurk,  their 
liise  gave  way:  nineteen  nail  uf  the  Inie,  with  Vilhiit  uve  and  two  other  ilau 
offleers,  were  taken;  the  other  «hip»,  with  Admiral  (Jravina,  eKcapcd. 

This  splendid  vietorv,  so  pre  ennnent  in  the  annals  of  Untam,  wum  pur. 
chased  with  the  life  of  her  ({reatest  naval  coniinaiuier.  In  the  iniddh;  uf 
the  contest  Lord  Nelson  rueeived  in  his  left  lireust  a  musket- ball,  anmd 
at  him  from  the  ship  with  whieh  he  was  en({aged;  and  in  about  an  hour 
afterwards  he  expired,  displaying  in  his  death  the  heroic  firmness  winch 
nad  distinguished  every  action  ofhis  life.  The  loss  of  this  gallant  inuii 
damned  the  joy  whieh  the  news  of  so  important  a  victory  would  have  nx- 
.-ited;  and  it  is  diincult  to  say  whether  the  general  grief  that  was  felt  fur 
Ihe  hero's  death,  or  the  exultation  for  so  signal  a  triumph,  prcponderutcd. 
Many  there  were,  most  assuredly,  who  would  have  relinquishud  the  vici 
•ory  to  have  saved  the  victim.  Mis  remains  were  deposited  in  St.  Paul's 
cathedral,  and  were  accompanied  by  a  procession  more  extensive  and 
magnificent  tht.n  Kngland  had,  on  any  similar  occasion,  beheld. 

Of  that  part  of  the  Cadiz  fleet  wl.ich  had  escaped,  four  ships  were  after- 
wards  captured  by  Sir  Richard  Strachan,  olT  Kerrol,  and  were  coiiduLieJ 
.0  a  British  port.  Thus  the  enemy's  marine  was  virtually  annihilated,  and 
the  navy  of  England  heid,  undisputed,  the  mastery  of  the  seas. 

It  was  far  otherwise,  however,  with  her  continental  projects  and  allimi. 
ces.  An  alliance  offei.  .ive  and  defensive  had  long  been  iaeflTectually  ne- 
gotiating  with  Russia,  Austria,  and  Sweden ;  but  it  was  not  till  the  Fi-t>iic  i 
emperor  had  arbitrarily  annexed  Genoa  and  Parma  to  his  dominions,  thai 
a  treaty  was  concluded.  The  objects  of  this  formidable  coalition  were 
the  liberation  of  Holland,  Sardinia,  Switzerland,  and  Hanover,  from  French 
tyranny ;  the  restoration  of  tranquillity  to  the  Italian  states,  and  the  ru- 
cstablishment  of  safety  and  peace  in  all  Europe.  It  was  stipulated  that 
the  three  continental  powers  should  furnish  500,000  men,  exclusive  of  the 
British  troops.  The  military  force  at  the  disposal  of  France  was  050,000, 
besides  a  considerable  number  of  auxiliaries.  By  one  article  of  the  con- 
federacy it  was  agreed  that  the  continental  powers  should  not  withdraw 
their  forces,  nor  Great  Britain  her  subsidies,  till  a  general  pacification  took 
place  with  the  common  consent  of  the  cuntraciing  parties. 

The  dissatisfaction  evinced  against  the  French  emperor  in  all  the  ter- 
ritories  which  he  had  seized,  seemed  only  to  raise  his  ambition.  To  in- 
sure the  subjugation  of  Germany,  he  endeavoured  to  separate  Austria  from 
the  other  imperial  states.  He  issued  a  manifesto,  reprobating  the  folly 
and  injustice  of  the  confederate  powers,  and  declaring  that  if  hostilities 
were  commenced  against  any  of  his  allies,  particularly  against  Bavaria,  he 
would  instantly  march  his  whole  army  to  revenge  the  affront.  lie  said 
that  the  war  was  created  and  maintained  by  the  gold  and  hatred  of  Grtat 
Britain,  and  boasted  that  he  would  light  till  he  had  secured  the  iiiJepi  n- 
dence  of  the  Germanic  body,  and  would  not  make  peace  without  a  suffi- 
cient security  for  its  continuance.  The  Austrians,  disregarding  these 
threats,  entered  Bavaria  with  55,000  men,  and  were  vigorously  supported 
by  the  hereditary  states.  These  forces,  with  those  furnished  by  Russia 
and  the  Tyrol,  seemed  to  promise  success ;  but  through  the  preeipituntj 
of  the  Austrians,  the  tardiness  of  the  Russians,  and  the  vigorous  measnn;!! 
of  Bonaparte,  the  great  objects  of  the  coalition  failed,  and  the  most  disas- 
trous reverses  were  experienced. 

The  French  reached  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  in  September,  and  eflfeuted 
a  passage  over  the  river;  engaged  the  Austrians  before  the  Russians 
could  join  them,  and  defeated  them  with  great  loss  at  Wertingen  and 
Gunsburgh.  In  the  meantime  General  Bernadotte,  by  the  order  of  Ho- 
flaparte,  entered  the  neutral  territories  of  Franconia,  and  was  there  joined 


tj  (he  Da 

UM  oy  III 
Ihe  Ausii 

Octobrr,  ] 
Un  Ihe  If) 
tacking  D 
A  few  da  J 
up  in   Uli 
picious  cir 
The  firs 
ing  at  ien) 
110,000  St r 
niiwilliiig  t 
awaited  the 
ever,  delay 
opposition  I 
ing  the  con 
ries,  the  Fn 
ill-fated  po{ 
Europe  aftn 
its  position  ; 
cessily  of  fa 
hut  that  of 
with  which  1 
tria  to  prop* 
reiiiforcemei 
quarters  of  I 
tilities  for  a 
general  peae< 
tiee,  on  coiid 
to  return  hoi 
Venice  and  ll 
Tlic  Russif 
Austria,  they 
but  as  the 
sacrifice  of 
digious  armie 
propose  an  ar 
wished  to  lu 
pliments,  anc 
had  previous 
'lini  when  the 
advantage  of 
that  his  enem 
their  forces. 
posed  iiitervie 
long  coiiferen 
extremities. 

The  Frenc 
own  weaknes 
combined  arm 
parte  brought 
gained  a  coinp 
hattle  of  A  us 
ftinperors." 
manded  by  Gei 
'"  killed,  wouii 
•riumoh  of  NacB 


THK  TIlKAHiaY  OK  IIIrtTOllY.  gp| 

Oy  the  niiviiriiin  army  of  '.'O.ono  caviilry  ami  iiifantrv,  tlu-  nitlaviaii  iliviwion, 
ana  oy  llic  army  of  Holland,  iiihIit  Miirmont.  'I  he  lossrs  NtiNtnimd  by 
the  Aiistriixitt  fiail  liithfrto  bci>ii  very  mcoiisiilcrahlc ;  litit  on  llu>  l.liti  of 
OcIoImt,  MiMiiriKi'ii,  wilh  itn  !iirj(i'  ((iirriHon,  surn-ndcred  lo  Mnr»tha|  Soult. 
On  tlie  I'ltli,  thu  AiiHtrianN  making  a  sortie  from  tlx^  nty  of  lUm,  an  I  aU 
tackin|{  Uii|)()ni'«  division,  wrre  difiatt-d,  and  l'>,0«)0  of  tlicir  men  tiken. 
A  few  dayH  aftcrwanlH  llie  A.>8tri:iii  Ktiicral,  Mark,  who  had  dhut  himi:<>lf 
up  in  Ulin,  wilh  .'10,000  men,  surrendered  to  the  Freneti,  uiirler  very  bu«- 
picious  (MrcmnstanceH,  and  his  whole  army  wore  made  prJHonerH  of  war. 

The  first  Kussinn  division,  under  (jenerals  KutusofT  and  Merveldl,  hav- 
intf  at  liMigth  effected  u  junction  with  the  Austrians,  the  French  army, 
110,000  sli'oiiif,  hastily  advanced  to  attack  them.  The  allied  troops  were 
iiiiwilliiig  to  engage  a  force  so  much  more  numerous  than  their  own,  and 
awaited  the  ariival  of  the  second  Russian  army.  That  arrival  was,  how 
ever,  delayed  for  a  very  considerable  lime,  by  tin;  men.aciiig  and  ini;)olilic 
opposition  of  the  Prussian  armaments.  Had  the  king  of  Prussia,  h  join- 
ing the  confederates,  avenged  the  insult  offered  to  his  Franconian  territo- 
ries, the  French  would  soon  have  been  compelled  to  return  home ;  but  the 
ill-fated  policy  he  now  adopted  was  the  cause  of  all  the  disasters  which 
Europe  afterwards  suffered.  The  first  Ftussian  army,  unable  to  mail  lin 
its  position  against  the  superior  power  of  the  enemy,  were  under  the  ne- 
cessity of  falling  back  upon  Moravia,  and  in  their  rout  had  no  alternative 
but  that  of  crossing  the  Danube,  above  Vienna.  The  imminent  danger 
wilh  which  his  capital  was  now  threatened,  induced  the  emperor  of  Aus- 
tria to  propose  an  armistice,  in  hopes  of  gaining  time  for  the  arrival  of 
reinforcements.  Count  Guilay  was  accordingly  dispatched  to  the  head- 
quarters of  Napoleon,  wilh  proposals  for  concluding  a  suspension  of  hos- 
tiliiies  for  a  few  weeks,  as  a  preliminary  step  towards  a  negotiation  for  a 
(Teiicral  peace.  Bonaparte  expressed  his  readiness  to  accede  to  the  armis- 
tice, on  condition  that  the  Austrian  monarch  would  cause  the  allied  army 
lo  return  home,  the  Hungarian  levy  to  be  abandoned,  and  the  duchy  of 
Venit'e  and  the  Tyrol  to  be  occupied  by  the  French. 

The  Russian  armies  having  at  length  effected  a  junction  with  those  of 
Austria, they  marched  towards  Austerlitz, where  the  French  were  posted; 
but  as  the  allied  sovereigns  were  desirous  of  preventing  the  dreadful 
sacrifice  of  life,  which  was  inevitable  from  the  conflict  of  two  such  pro- 
digious armies,  the  counts  Stadion  and  Guilay  were  sent  to  Napoleon  to 
propose  an  armistice.  The  French  emperor  supposing  that  viity  merely 
wished  to  lull  him  into  a  false  security,  beguiled  them  with  artful  com- 
pliments, and  solicited  an  interview  with  the  Emperor  Ale.'andcr.  He 
had  previously  discovered  that  the  allies  were  rashly  advuiic,  j;  nj'ainst 
hini  when  the  utmost  caution  was  necessary;  and,  in  order  ?"  i^i  •  full 
advantage  of  the  circumstance,  he  commanded  his  army  to  fei{;n  a  retreat, 
that  his  enemy  might  be  confirmed  in  the  idea  of  his  being  unable  to  resist 
tlieir  forces.  The  Russian  emperor  declined  in  his  own  person  thf  pro- 
posed interview,  but  sent  his  aid-de-camp  as  a  proxy,  who  irlurned  after  a 
long  conference,  fully  persuaded  that  the  F'rench  were  rer^uced  to  the  last 
extremities. 

The  French  having  by  cautious  movements  kept  up  the  idea  of  their 
own  weakness  and  alarm,  were  attacked  on  the  1st  of  December,  by  tho 
combined  army ;  but  when  their  artifices  had  been  duly  prolonged,  Bona- 
parte brought  up  all  his  troops,  and  by  the  superiority  of  his  numbers, 
gained  a  complete  victory.  This  was  the  well-contested  and  memorable 
battle  of  Austerlitz,  or,  as  it  was  often  called,  the  battle  of  the  "  Three 
Emperors."  ThcvAustro-Russian  armies,  amouiitinif  to  Hn,OflO,  were  com- 
manded by  General  Kutusoff  and  Prince  Lichtenstcin  ;  and  nearly  30,000 
in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners,  with  100  pieces  of  cannon,  attested  the 
triumnh  of  Napoleon.    In  consequence  of  this,  an  armistice  was  four  davs 


603 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


afterwards  effected;  and  on  the  Q6lh  of  the  same  month,  a  pacific  treaty 
was  concluded  at  Prosburg  between  France  and  Austria.  By  the  terms 
agreed  on,  France  retained  possession  of  the  Transalpine  territories; 
Bonaparte  was  acknowledged  king  of  Italy,  but  the  crowns  of  France  and 
Italy  were  to  be  forever  separated,  instead  of  being  united  under  one 
head ;  and  the  mw  made  king  was  invested  with  the  power  of  appointing 
an  acknowledged  successor  to  the  Italian  throne.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
French  cinperor  guaranteed  the  integrity  of  the  empire  of  Austria,  in  the 
state  to  which  he  had  now  reduced  it,  as  well  as  the  integrity  of  the  pes- 
sessions  of  the  princes  of  the  house  of  Austria,  Russia,  &o. 

Prussia,  wiiich  had  insidiously  held  back,  watdiing  the  progress  of  ijie 
campaign,  determined  for  the  present  to  preserve  oeace  with  France,  and 
concluded  a  convention  with  that  power,  by  which  Hanover  was  pro- 
visionally exchanged  forAnspach,  Cleves,  and  Neufchatel.  It  has  always, 
indeed,  appeared  to  us  that  the  policy  of  Prussia  was  constantly  directed 
to  the  diminution  of  the  Austrian  power,  in  the  hope  that  the  imperial 
crown  might  Lc  transferred  to  the  house  of  Brandenburg  :  a  feeling  which 
Bonaparte  insidiously  encouraged  as  long  as  ii  suited  his  own  views  of 
aggrandizement. 

A.  D.  1806.— The  campaign  of  1805  having  thus  fatally  terminated,  and 
the  Russian  armies  having  returned  across  the  Elbe,  Napoleon  resolved 
to  take  vengeance  on  the  king  of  Naples,  who  had  provoked  his  wrath  by 
admitting  some  British  and  Russian  troops  into  his  dominions.  On  the 
morning  after  he  had  signed  the  peace  of  Presburg,  the  French  emperor 
issued  a  proclamation  from  his  head-quarters  at  Vienna,  declaring  that  the 
Neapolitan  dynasty  had  ceased  to  reign,  and  denouncing  vengeance  oa 
the  royal  family.  Immediately  after  this  threatening  manifesto  reached 
Naples,  the  Russian  troops  re-emharked,  and  the  British  determined  on 
r(!tiring  to  Sicily,  without  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  enemy.  The  crown 
of  Naples  was  conferred  on  Joseph  Bonaparte,  who,  being  supported  by  a 
numerous  French  army,  took  possession  of  his  kingdom  on  the  13th  of 
February,  1806.  The  late  king  took  refuge  at  Palermo,  where  he  was 
protected  by  the  troops  and  fleet  of  Great  Britain. 

As  that  part  of  the  Neapolitan  territories  called  Calabria  persisted  in 
opposing;  the  invaders.  Sir  J.  Stuart,  commander  of  the  British  forces  in 
Sicily,  undertook  an  expedition  for  the  purpose  of  restoring  the  legiiinialc 
sovereign.  Having  landed  his  troops,  consisting  of  4,800  men,  he  immt- 
diately  advanced  to  attack  the  French  general,  Regnier,  who  occupied  a 
strong  position  near  the  plains  of  Maida,  with  an  army  of  7000  men ;  bnt 
the  British  troops  charged  the  enemy  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and 
obtained  a  glorious  victory ;  the  enemy's  loss  being  4000  men,  killed, 
wounded,  and  prisoners,  while  that  of  the  English  was  only  45  killed  and 
282  wounded !  Tlie  battle  of  Maida  led  to  the  expulsion  of  the  French 
from  Calabria  in  less  than  a  month ;  but  such  considerable  reinforcements 
were  received  by  Joseph  Bonaparte  that  the  authority  of  the  new  mon- 
arch was  established  at  Naples,  and  the  English  being  under  the  necessity 
of  withdrawing  their  forces  to  the  protection  of  Sicily,  the  Calabrians 
were  obliged  to  submit. 

Shortly  after  this  Bonaparte  erected  Holland  into  a  kingdom,  wliich  he 
bestowed  on  his  brother,  Louis,  whose  mild  administration,  while  it  gained 
him  the  good-will  and  affection  of  his  subjects,  incensed  his  despotic 
brother.  He  next  subverted  the  Germanic  constitution,  and  estabhshed 
the  confederation  of  the  Rhine,  of  which  he  declared  that  he  had  taken  on 
himself  the  office  of  "protector." 

These  momentous  transactions  on  the  continent  have  necessarily  intor- 
rnpted  our  narration  of  those  events  which  relate  exclusively  to  Gnai 
Hiitain.  An  important  acquisition  was  made  by  General  Baird  andS., 
U(mie  Popham,  who,  after  surmounting  the  mos    formidable  ohstiiclcs 


made  tin 
uary,  ex 
quest  w;i 
of  a  sqiiH 
J.  DuckM 
But  no 
portance 
Excess  ivi 
plan  for  c 
and  the  I; 
^y  a  vott 
abbey,  wil 
at  the  pub 
the  public, 
during  a  1 
money,  bu 
his  age ;  ai 
than  ever  i 
of  the  tyrai 
Soon  a(l( 
resigned  tl] 
menibeis  o 
Fox,  secreli 
neer).  lord 
imincdiatelj 
menls  comii 
anticipated ; 
French  rulei 
A  measurt 
bioiiiflu  aboi 
slave  trade, 
the  oppositio 
tiiiuaiice,  it 
tina-uiflhed 
celebrated  ... 
house,  ill  his 
the  late  preii 
him,  he  was 
withstanding, 
received  sinii 
remains  were. 
political  oppo 
We  have  b 
Prussia,  whic 
to  extend  her 
strict  neutral 
certain  time  . 
were  expecte 
the  nation  dec 
fjattleofAust 
became  entirt 
instig.-ited  by 
Hanover,  by  \ 
Great  Britain, 
pis  Prussian  r 
jiiiposed  npoi 
"•issia,  and  S' 
»f  the  PrussiaF 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY 


6iM 


made  tlioinsdvos  miistcrs  of  tlie  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  on  the  lOlh  of  Jan- 
uary, expcriiMiciiig  little  resistance  from  the  Dutch  governor.  This  con- 
quest WHS  followed  by  the  capture  of  three  French  ships  of  the  line,  part 
of  a  squadron  thai  had  escaped  from  the  harbour  of  Brest,  and  which  Sir 
J.  Duckworth  fortunately  met  with  in  the  West  Indies. 

But  no  event  that  took  place,  favourable  or  oth(!r\vise,  was  of  equal  im- 
portance to  the  death  of  Mr.  Pitt,  which  happened  on  the  23d  of  January. 
Excessive  anxiety,  application,  and  debility,  added  to  the  failure  of  his 
plan  for  delivering  Kurope  from  French  tyranny,  accelerated  his  death, 
and  the  last  words  which  quivered  on  his  lips  were  "Oil,  my  country!" 
By  a  vote  of  the  commons,  his  remains  were  interred  ni  Westminster 
abbey,  with  the  greatest  soleiniiity,  and  a  monument  was  erected  to  him 
at  the  public  expense.  By  the  same  vote,  his  debts  were  discharged  by 
the  public,  and  it  was  no  small  proof  of  his  entire  disinterestedness,  that 
during  a  long  administration  of  twenty  years,  he  did  not  accumulate 
money,  but  died  insolvent.  This  great  man  departed  in  the  4  ■  ;h  year  of 
his  age ;  at  a  period,  too,  when  sucli  a  masier-mind  seemed  to  be  more 
than  ever  needed  to  counteract  the  vast  designs  and  universal  despotism 
of  the  tyrant  of  the  continent. 

Soon  alter  tlie  decease  of  Mr.  Pitt,  his  colleagues  in  office  unanimously 
resigned  their  employments,  and  a  now  ministry  was  formed,  the  chief 
members  of  which  were  Lord  Grenville,  first  lord  of  the  treasury;  Mr. 
Fox,  secretary  of  state  for  foreign  afl'airs  ;  and  Mr.  Erskine  (created  a 
oeei),  lord  high  chancellor.  Negotiations  for  a  treaty  of  peace  were 
immediately  opened,  and  from  the  cordiality  with  wliich  the  two  govern- 
ments commenced  their  proceedings  the  most  happy  consequences  were 
anticipated;  but  it  soon  appeared  that  ttie  iminoilcrate  ambition  of  the 
French  ruler  excluded  for  the  present  all  hopi's  of  an  accommodation. 

A  measure  which  will  forever  reflect  s{i(/iy  u|mii  t'n'  Briiisii  nation  was 
brouglit  about  by  the  new  administration  ;  we  mean,  the  abolition  of  the 
slave  trade.  The  bill  was  introduced  by  Mr.  Fnx,  and  notwithstanding 
the  opposition  it  encountered  from  those  who  were  interested  in  its  con- 
timiaiiee,  it  passed  through  both  houses  with  a  great  majority.  This  dis- 
tiiiu;uir,hed  act  of  humanity  was,  in  fact,  one  of  his  last  measures ;  this 
celebrated  and  much  respected  statesman  having  expired  at  Chiswick- 
house,  in  his  59t,h  year,  on  the  13th  of  September.  Like  his  great  rival, 
the  late  premier,  he  gave;  early  indications  of  superior  capacity,  and,  liko 
him,  he  was  educated  for  political  life.  It  is  rather  remarkable,  that  not- 
withstanding the  irreconcilable  opposition  between  him  and  Mr.  Pitt,  he 
received  similar  honours  from  the  representatives  of  the  nation,  and  his 
remains  were  deposited  in  Westminster  abbey,  within  a  few  inches  of  his 
political  opponent. 

We  have  before  alluded  to  the  ill  feeling  existing  between  Austria  and 
Prussia,  which  had  induced  the  latter  to  cultivate  the  friendsliipof  France, 
to  extend  her  influence  and  dominions  into  Germany,  and  to  maintain  a 
strict  neutrality  with  tlie  hostile  powers.  From  this  conduct,  which  for  a 
certain  time  insured  the  peace  and  entirety  of  Prussia,  many  advantages 
were  expected  to  result ;  yet,  at  the  same  time,  the  military  system  of 
the  nation  declined,  and  its  reputation  had  greatly  decreased.  After  the 
battle  of  Austerlitz,  so  fatal  to  the  liberties  of  Kurope.  the  king  of  Prussia 
became  entirely  subservient  to  the  arbitrary  will  of  Bonaparte ;  and,  being 
instigated  by  that  powerful  tyrant,  he  took  po.saession  of  the  electorate  of 
Hanover,  by  which  means  he  involved  himself  in  a  temporary  war  with 
Great  Britain.  A  peace,  however,  was  in  a  short  time  concluded  ;  and  as 
his  Prussian  majesty  was  unable  any  longer  to  submit  to  the  indignities 
imposed  upon  him,  he  entered  into  a  confederacy  with  Great  Britain, 
Russia,  aiui  Sweden.  An  instantaneous  change  took  place  in  the  conduct 
sf  the  Prussian  cabinet  the  precipitancy  of  whose  present  measures  could 


9H 


THB  TREASURY  OF  HI8T0KV. 


only  be  equalled  by  their  former  tiirdiness.  The  armies  of  the  contend 
ing  parties  took  the  field  early  in  October,  and  after  two  engagements,  in 
which  the  success  was  doubtlul,  a  general  battle  took  place  at  Jena  on  the 
14th  of  that  month.  The  French  were  posted  along  the  Saaie,  their 
centre  being  at  Jena.  The  Prussians,  under  Prince  Ferdinand,  duke  of 
Brunswick,  were  ranged  between  Jena,  Auerstadt,  and  WeimHr.  The 
armies  were  drawn  up  within  musket-shot  of  each  other,  and  at  nine  in 
the  morning  about  250,000  men,  with  700  cannon,  wore  employed  in 
mutual  destruction.  Courage  and  discipline  on  each  side  where  nearly 
equal,  but  the  French  evinced  superior  military  science.  When  the  day 
was  far  gone,  Augereau  arrived  with  seasonable  reinforcements,  whiob 
being  supported  by  a  brilliant  ciiarge  of  Murat's  cuirassiers,  victory 
declared  in  favour  of  the  French.  Napoleon,  from  the  height  where  he 
stood,  saw  the  Prussians  fly  in  all  directions.  More  than  20,000  were 
killed  or  wounded,  and  30,000  taken  prisoners,  with  300  pieces  of  cannon. 
Prince  Ferdinand  died  of  his  wounds.  A  panic  seized  the  garrison;  hU 
the  principal  towns  of  Prussia,  west  of  the  Oder,  surrendered  soonafterthe 
battle  ;  and  the  remains  of  their  army  was  driven  as  far  as  the  Vistuin, 
Blucher  was  compelled  to  capitulate  at  Lubec.  Bonaparte  now  entered 
Berlin,  and  while  there,  received  a  deputation  from  the  French  senate 
complimenting  him  on  his  wonderful  successes,  but  recommending  peace.' 

On  the  approach  of  the  French  to  the  Vistula,  the  Russian  armies  ad- 
vanced with  great  rapidity  to  check  their  course ;  a  formidable  body  of 
Swedes  was  assembled  in  Pomerania;  and  the  king  of  Prussia  having 
assembled  his  scattered  troops,  and  reinforced  them  with  new  levies 
prepared  to  face  the  enemy.  General  Benigsen,  who  commanded  tlii- 
Russian  forces,  and  was  in  daily  expectation  of  a  reinforcement,  was 
attacked  at  Pultusk,  on  the  2Glh  of  December;  the  engagement  was 
very  severe,  but  he  succeeded  in  driving  the  enemy  from  the  field  of 
battle.     This  concluded  the  campaign. 

A.  n.  1807. — At  the  beginning  of  this  year  the  bill  for  the  emancipation 
of  the  Roman  Catholics  passed  both  houses  of  parliament,  and  was  pre- 
sented to  the  king  to  receive  the  royal  assent.  His  majesty,  con- 
scientiously believing  that  he  could  not  sign  it  without  violating  his  coro- 
nation oath,  and  being  desirous  of  testifying  his  uitachment  to  the 
established  religion,  not  only  refused  to  sign  the  bill,  hvn  d'^sired  that  his 
ministers  would  forever  abandon  the  measure.  This  the^  refused;  and 
on  the  dismissal  of  Lord  Erskine  and  several  of  his  colleagues,  Lord 
Eldon  was  chosen  lord  chancellor  ;  the  duke  of  Portland,  first  lord  of  the 
treasury ;  and  the  Right  Hon.  Spencer  Perceval,  chancellor  of  the 
exchequer. 

After  the  surrender  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  to  the  British  arms  an 
expedition  was  undertaken  against  the  Spanish  settlements  in  South 
America.  They  proceeded  up  the  Rio  de  la  Plata,  and  having  surmounted 
innumerable  difficulties,  landed  their  troops  near  Buenos  Ayres,  andon 
the  26th  of  June,  1806,  took  possession  of  the  town.  A  general  insurrec 
tion  having  been  f-xciied  soon  afterwards,  the  British  troops  were  com 
pelled  to  abandon  a,  and  it  was  found  expedient  to  send  to  the  Cape  foi 
reinforcements.  Buenos  Ayres  was  again  attacked  on  the  7lh  of  July 
1807,  by  Rear-admiral  Murray  nnd  General  Whitelock.  The  soldiers 
being  ordered  to  enter  the  town  with  unloaded  mus!:^ts,  were  reco'vod  by 
a  most  destructive  fire  from  the  houses,  and  after  having  lost  2,500  brave 
men,  were  forced  to  retire.  A  convention  was  then  entered  into  with  the 
Spanish  commander,  by  which  it  was  stipulated  that  a  mutual  restitution 
of  prisoners  should  take  place,  and  that  the  British  troops  should  evacuate 
the  country.  For  his  unsoldierlike  conduct  in  this  fatal  expedition, 
General  Whitelock  was  tried  by  a  court-martial  on  his  return  to  England, 
and  rendered  incapable  of  serving  his  majesty  iu  future. 


THE  TEEA8URY  OP  HISTORY. 


695 


We  now  return  to  the  military  operations  on  the  continent.  The  bat- 
tle of  Puitusk  had  left  tlie  contending;  parlies  in  circumstances  nearly 
equal.  Bonaparte  had  retired  into  winter-quarters,  where  he  intended  to 
have  remained  till  the  return  of  spring;  but  as  the  Russians  were  con- 
scious of  the  advantages  resulting  to  them  from  the  rigorous  climate, 
they  were  resolved  to  allow  him  no  repose.  The  Russian  general, 
Markow,  accordingly  attacked  the  French  under  Dernadotte,  at  Morungen 
in  East  Prussia,  when  a  very  severe  action  ensued,  which  terminated  in 
favour  of  the  allies.  Another  sanguinary  encounter  took  place  on  the  8th 
of  February,  near  the  town  of  Kyiau,  when  the  fortunes  of  France  and 
Russia  seemed  to  be  equally  balanced,  and  each  party  claimed  the  victory. 
Immediately  after  this  engagement  Bonaparte  dispatched  a  messenger  to 
the  Russian  commander-in-ciiief,  with  overtures  of  a  pacific  nature  ;  but 
General  Benigsen  rejected  his  offers  with  disdain,  and  replied  that  "  he  had 
been  sent  by  his  masters  not  to  negotiate,  but  to  fight."  Notwithstanding 
this  repulse,  similar  overtures  were  made  by  Bonaparte  to  the  king  of  Prus- 
sia, and  met  with  no  better  success.  The  weak  state  of  the  Frentth  army  at 
this  time  seemed  'o  promise  the  allies  a  speedy  and  fortunate  termination 
of  the  contest ;  but  the  surrender  of  Dantzic  totally  changed  the  face  of 
affairs,  and  by  supplying  the  French  with  arms  and  ammunition,  enabled 
them  to  maintain  a  superiority.  On  the  14ih  of  June  a  general  engage- 
ment ensued  at  Friedland,  and  the  concentrated  forces  of  the  allies  were 
repulsed  with  prodigious  slaughter.  On  the  23d  uf  the  same  month  an 
armistice  was  concluded ;  and  on  the  8th  of  July  a  treaty  of  peace  was 
signed  at  Tilsit,  between  the  emperors  of  France  and  Russia,  to  which 
his  Prussian  majesty  acceded  ^  n  the  following  day. 

The  first  interview  between  Bonaparte  and  the  emperor  Alexander 
took  place  on  the  25th  of  June,  on  a  raft  constructed  for  tliat  purpose  on 
the  river  Niemen,  where  two  tents  had  been  prepared  for  their  reception. 
The  two  emperors  landed  from  their  boats  at  the  same  time,  and  em- 
braced each  other.  A  magnificent  dinner  was  afterwards  given  by 
Napoleon's  guard  to  those  of  Alexander  and  the  king  of  Prussia ;  when 
they  exchanged  uniforms,  and  were  to  be  seen  in  motley  dresses,  partly 
French,  partly  Russian,  and  partly  Prussian.  The  articles  by  which 
pence  was  granted  to  Russia  were,  under  all  the  circum.stances,  remarkably 
favourable.  Alexander  agreed  to  acknowledge  the  kings  of  Bonaparte's 
creation,  and  the  confederation  of  the  Rhine.  Napoleon  undertook  to 
mediate  a  peace  between  the  Porte  and  Russia  ;  Alexander  having  under- 
taken to  be  the  mediator  between  France  and  England,  or,  in  the  event  of 
his  mediation  being  refused,  to  shut  his  ports  against  British  commerce. 
The  terras  imposed  on  the  king  of  Prussia  were  marked  by  characteristic 
severity.  The  city  of  Dantzic  was  declared  independent;  and  all  the 
Polish  provinces,  with  Westphalia,  were  ceded  by  Prussia  to  the  con- 
queror, by  which  means  the  king  of  Prussia  was  stripped  of  nearly  half  of 
his  territories,  and  one-third  of  his  revenues.  All  his  ports  were  likewise 
to  be  closed  against  England  till  a  permanent  peace. 

The  unexampled  influence  which  Napoleon  had  now  acquired  over  the 
nations  of  Europe,  to  say  nothing  of  that  spirit  of  domination  which 
he  everywhere  exercised,  rendered  it  extremely  improbable  that  Den- 
mark would  long  preserve  her  neutrality;  nay,  the  English  ministers 
had  good  reasons  to  believe  that  a  ready  acquiescence  to  the  dictates 
of  the  French  emperor  would  be  found  in  the  court  of  Copenhagen.  As 
it  was  therefore  feared  that  the  Danish  fleet  would  fall  into  the  hand* 
of  the  enemy,  it  was  thought  expedient  to  dispatch  a  formidable  arma- 
ment to  the  Baltic  and  to  negotiate  with  the  Danish  government.  The 
hasis  of  the  negotiation  was  a  proposal  to  protect  the  neutrality  of  Den- 
m;irk,  on  condition  that  its  fleet  should  he  deposited  in  the  British  ports 
till  the  termination  of  the  war  with  France.     As  this  proposal  was  re- 


TOG 


THE  TREASIJllY  OP  HISTORY. 


jectf.M],  iUKi  ;is  tlie  jjeiicral  conduct  of  tlio  Panes  tnUrayed  their  partmliK 
for  the  French,  the  armament,  wliich  consisted  of  twenty-seven  sail  o\ 
the  line  and  twenty  ihousaii'l  hind  forces,  under  the  command  of  Admiral 
Gambier  and  Lord  Cathcart,  made  preparations  for  investing  the  city.  \ 
tremendous  cannonading  then  commenced.  The  cathedral,  many  public 
edifices  and  private  houses  were  destroyed,  with  the  sacrifice  of  two 
thousand  lives.  From  the  iind  of  September  tdl  the  evening  of  the  5th, 
the  contlagration  was  kept  'p  in  different  places,  when,  a  considerahlo 
part  of  the  city  being  consumed,  and  the  remainder  threatened  with 
Bpeedy  destruction,  the  geij.^rul  commanding  the  garrison  sent  out  a  flag 
of  truce,  desiring  an  armi-itice.  *.)  afford  time  to  treat  for  a  capiiuiatioii. 
This  being  arranged,  a  nialUiil  restitution  of  prisoners  took  place,  and 
the  Danish  fleet,  consisting  of  18  sail  of  the  line  and  15  frigates,  tu^other 
with  all  the  naval  stores,  surrendered  to  his  Britannic  majesty's  forces. 
The  Danish  government,  however,  refused  to  ratify  the  capitulation,  imt] 
ssued  a  declaration  of  war  against  Knglaiid.  This  unexpected  enter- 
prize  against  a  neutral  power  served  as  an  ostensible  cause  lor  Riissiii 
to  commence  hostilities  against  Great  Britain  ;  and  a  manifesto  was  pub- 
lished on  the  .31st  of  October,  ordering  the  detention  of  all  British  ships 
and  property. 

The  two  grand  objects  to  which  the  attention  of  Bonaparlo  was  pnn. 
cipally  directed,  were  the  annihilation  of  the  trade  of  (Jreat  Britain,  and 
the  extension  of  his  dominions.  In  order  to  attain  the  former  of  these 
objects,  he,  in  November,  1806,  issued  at  Berlin  a  decree,  by  w  bieh  the 
British  islands  were  declared  to  be  in  a  state  of  blockade,  and  all  iieiitn.l 
vessels  that  traded  to  them  without  his  consent  were  subject  to  captnro 
and  cnnf.itiation.  This  new  mode  of  warfare  excited  at  first  the  appre- 
hensions of  the  British  merchants  ;  but  the  cabinet  were  resolved  to  re- 
taliale,  and  accoidingly  issued  the  celebrated  orders  in  councii,  by  which 
France  and  all  the  powers  under  her  influence  were  declared  to  be  in  a 
state  of  blockade,  and  all  neutral  vessels  that  should  trade  between  the 
hostile  powers,  without  touching  at  some  port  of  Great  Britain,  were 
liable  to  be  seized.  These  unprecedented  measures  were  extremely  det- 
rimental to  all  neutral  powers,  especially  to  the  Americans,  who  were  the 
general  carriers  of  colonial  produce.  They,  by  way  of  retaliation,  laid 
an  embargo  in  all  the  ports  of  Mie  United  States,  and,  notwithstanding 
the  extinction  of  their  commerce,  long  persisted  in  the  measure. 

In  the  conduct  pursued  by  Bonaparte  with  respect  to  Portugal,  he  re- 
solved to  act  in  such  a  manner  as  should  either  involve  that  nation  in  a 
war  with  England,  or  would  furnish  him  with  a  pretence  for  invading  it. 
Ho  accordingly  required  the  court  of  Lisbon,  first,  to  shut  their  ports 
against  Great  Britain;  secondly,  to  detain  all  Englishmen  resi  ing  in 
Portugal;  and  thirdly,  to  confiscate  all  English  property.  In  ca-ie  these 
demands  were  refused,  he  declared  that  war  would  be  declared  against 
them,  and,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  he  gave  orders  for  detaining  all 
mendiantships  that  were  in  the  port  of  France.  As  the  prince-reycnt 
could  not  comply  with  these  imperious  demands  without  violating  the 
treaties  that  existed  between  the  two  nations,  he  endeavoured  to  avoid  the 
danger  which  threatened  him  by  agreeing  to  the  first  condition.  Tiie 
ports  of  Portugal  were  accordingly  shut  up,  but  this  concession  served 
only  to  inflame  the  resentment  of  Bonaparte,  who  immediately  declared 
"  iiiat  the  house  of  Braganza  had  ceased  to  reign,"  and  sent  an  immense 
army  iito  Portugal,  under  General  Junot.     In  this  critical  siiuation  the 

Erince-regent  removed  his  troops  to  the  seaports,  and  when  Junot  entered 
is  dominions  he  retired  with  his  family  to  the  Brazils. 
The  subversion  of  the  government  of  Spain  and  the  expulsion  of  the 
reigning  faimiy  was  the  next  step  on  the  ladder  of  Napoleon's  ambition. 
In  order  to  accomplish  this  it  was  his  first  care  to  foment  discord  iu  ilia 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


697 


foyal  fiimily,  wliidi  he  wis  too  sucr-cssful  in  effpcting.  By  oncouraging 
the  amhiliim  of  the  heir  appiircnt,  he  excited  the  resentment  of  ilin  reijjii- 
ing  monarch,  Charles  IV.,  rendered  them  mutual  objects  of  mistrust,  jeal- 
ousy, ii'iil  hMtred,  and  plunged  the  nation  into  anarchy  and  confusion.  In 
this  perplexed  slaip  of  atfairs,  he  invented  an  excuse  for  introducing  his 
armies  into  iSpain,  and  compelled  Charles  to  resign  the  crown  to  his  son, 
who  was  invested  with  the  sovereignty,  with  the  title  of  Ferdinand  VII, 
The  new-made  king,  with  his  father  and  the  whole  royal  family,  were 
shortly  afterwards  prevailed  on  to  take  a  journey  to  Bayonne,  in  France, 
where  an  iiiirrvi(!W  took  place  with  the  French  emperor.  On  the  5th  of 
May  the  two  kings  were  compelled  by  Bonaparte  to  sign  a  formal  abdi- 
cation, and  tlu!  infants  Don  Antonio  and  Don  Carlos  renounced  all  claim 
to  the  succession.  This  measure  was  followed  by  an  imperial  decree, 
declaring  the  throne  of  Spain  to  be  vacant,  and  conffirring  it  on  Joseph 
Bonaparte,  who  had  abdicated  the  throne  of  Naples  in  favour  of  Joachim 
.Murat. 

As  the  French  forces,  amounting  to  about  100,000  men,  occupied  all  the 
strongest  and  most  commanding  positions  of  Spain,  and  as  another  army 
of  '20,000  men,  undor  Junot,  had  arrived  in  Portugal,  it  was  imagined 
that  the  new  sovereign  would  take  possession  of  the  kingdom  without 
opposition.  But  no  sooner  had  the  news  of  the  treatment  of  the  royal 
family  reached  Spain,  than  a  general  insurrection  broke  out;  junias  were 
formed  in  the  different  provinces,  patri«)tic  armies  were  levied,  and  the 
assistance  of  England  was  implored.  The  supreme  junta  of  Seville  as- 
sumed tlie  sovereign  authority  in  the  name  of  Ferdinand  VII.,  whom  they 
proclaimed  king,  an  \  de<;lared  war  against  France.  Peace  with  Spain 
was  proclaimed  in  L.:.,don  on  the  5th  of  July;  the  Spanish  prisoners  were 
get  free,  clothed,  and  sent  home ;  and  everything  that  the  Spaniards 
could  desire,  or  the  English  afford,  was  liberally  granted.  The  sudden- 
ness of  tile  insurrection,  the  unanimity  which  prevailed,  and  the  viuour 
with  which  it  was  conducted,  amazed  the  surrounding  nations,  and  called 
forth  their  exertions.  The  efforts  of  the  Spaniards  were  crowned  with 
astonishing  success;  the  usurper  .loseph  was  driven  from  the  capital  after 
having  remained  in  it  about  a  week ;  and  the  French,  after  losing  about 
50,000  men,  were  obliged  to  abandon  the  greatest  part  of  the  kingdom, 
and  to  retire  to  the  north  of  the  Ebro. 

A.  D.  1808. — Animated  and  encouraged  by  the  successful  resistance 
of  the  Spaniards,  the  Portuguese  also  displayed  a  spirit  of  patriotic  loy- 
alty, and  a  general  insurrection  took  place  in  the  northern  parts  of  that 
kingdom.  In  the  provinces  from  which  the  French  had  been  expelled 
the  authority  »>*"  the  prince-regent  was  re-established,  and  provisional 
juntas,  like  thos«  of  Spain,  were  formed.  The  supreme  junta  of  Oporto 
having  taken  effectual  measures  for  raising  an  army,  dispatched  ambassa- 
dors to  England  to  solicit  support  and  assistance.  In  consequenee  of 
this,  an  army  under  Sir  Arthur  Weihsley,  consisting  of  10,000  men,  set 
sail  from  Cork  on  the  12th  of  July,  ai.J  landed  in  Oporto,  where,  after  a 
severe  encounter,  he  compelled  the  French  general,  Laborde,  to  abandon 
a  very  strong  position  on  the  heights  of  Roleia.  In  the  following  night 
Laborde  effected  a  jimction  with  General  Loison,  and  they  retreated  with 
their  united  forces  towards  Lisbon.  The  Britihii  army  having  been  re- 
inforced by  a  body  of  troops  under  General  Anstruther,  procecdeu  towards 
the  capital  in  pursuit  of  the  French.  On  the  21st  of  August,  th;;  French 
army  under  Junot,  who  had  been  created  duke  of  Abrantes  by  Bonaparte, 
met  the  British  lroo|is  at  the  village  of  Vimiera,  when  a  very  severe  ac- 
tion ensued,  and  terminated  in  the  total  defeat  of  the  French,  whose  loss 
m  killed  alone  amounted  to  3,500  men.  Sir  Hugh  Dalrymple,  who  had 
been  called  from  Gibraltar  to  take  the  command  of  the  British  forces, 
joined  the  army  at  Cinira  on  the  day  after  this  splendid  victory,  and  con- 


698 


TKIC  TiiKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


eluded  a  treaty  which  was  tht/Ught  in  England  to  be  disadvantageous,  and 
became  the  'ubject  of  miliiary  inquiry ;  but  Sir  Arthur  Weilesley  giving 
his  testimony  in  its  favour,  il  may  safely  be  inferred  to  have  been  wisely 
concluded ;  and  such  was  the  result  of  the  investigation.  It  etipuhited 
that  the  French  should  evacuate  Portugal,  with  their  arms,  but  1  ;;ivi;y 
their  magazine-!,  and  be  transported  to  France  in  British  shipft,  wiihcMj 
any  restriction  in  regard  to  future  service ;  having  leave  to  dltpv o  of 
their  private  property  (viz.,  .'heir  plunder  acquired  by  contiliutio.s  ,  in 
Portugal.  The  RuBsian  fleet  m  the  Tagus,  consisting  of  niie  sliipf  of 
the  line  and  a  frigate,  was  to  be  surrendered  to  the  British  '^'overmiifnt 
but  to  be  restored  after  the  peace,  and  the  Rutssian  ofticers  ai  u  inon  !o  be 
conveyed  home  ia  English  traissports. 

The  convention  of  Cintra  b(  ing  carried  isiio  effect,  tlie  Britis'^j  forces 
advanced  to  Lisbon,  and  having  remained  in  that  city  about  two  months, 
proceeded  in  different  divinions  lowards  Sal;  ,nanca,  in  Spain.  In  the 
meantime  an  army  of  13,000  men,  under  Sir  David  Baird,  having  Imded 
at  Corunna,  was  marching  through  the  northern  part  of  Portr);^ai  towards 
tlie  same  point.  Bonaparte  having,  with  an  immense  army,  entered 
Spain,  in  order  to  condnci  the  operations  of  the  war,  the  patriot  trrjjpst 
ursder  Belvidem.  Blakr,  and  Castanos,  wore  succespively  defeat"*!,  and 
Napoleon  ent  rt'd  Madrid  in  triumph.  Sir  John  Moojo,  the  comn!n,<der- 
in-chief  oi  le  British  army,  being  unable  to  keep  tho  iieU  in  the  pres- 
ence of  an  n^my  ^f  much  saperior  in  numbers,  while  his  own  troops 
were  suffering  'Uvaiiliilly  frosii  Imnger  and  fatigue,  retreated,  in  the  midst 
of  winter,  throjch  ?.  desolate  and  mountainous  country,  made  almost  inn- 
passable  by  snoiv  a',d  rain ;  yet  he  effected  his  retreat  with  great  rapidity 
and  judi.jiii)enf,  iiad  arrived  at  Corunna  Jan.  11,  1809.  Soult  took  up  a 
position  ;ibovn  the  town  ia  readiness  to  make  an  attack  as  soon  as  the 
troops  fahould  begin  to  embark.  On  the  16th,  the  operation  having  be- 
gun, the  French  descended  in  four  columns,  when  Sir  John  Moore,  in 
bringing  up  the  fi:uards,  where  the  fire  was  most  destructive,  received  a 
monai  wound  from  a  cannon-ball.  General  Baird  being  also  disabled,  the 
command  devolved  on  Sir  John  Hope,  under  whom  the  troojjs  bravely 
continued  the  fight  until  niglitfall,  when  the  French  retreated  with  the 
loss  of  two  thousand  men,  and  offered  no  further  molestation.  The  loss 
of  the  English  in  this  battle  was  stated  at  between  seven  and  eight  hun- 
dred  men  ;  but  their  total  loss  in  this  arduous  expedition  was  little  less 
than  six  thousand,  with  their  brave  and  noble  commander,  whose  soldierly 
skill  and  general  high  qualities  fairly  entitled  him  to  the  respect  and  ad- 
miration in  which  he  was  univ^rsriUy  held. 

A.  D.  1809. — The  most  vigorous  exertions  were  now  made  by  the  French 
for  the  complete  subjugation  of  Spain.  Having  defeated  and  dispersed 
several  bodies  of  the  Spanish  troops,  they  sat  down  before  Saragossa, 
and  made  themselves  masters  of  it  after  a  desperate  and  sanguinary  as- 
sault. The  French  army  then  entered  Portugal,  under  Marshal  Soult, 
duke  of  Dalmatia,  and  took  Oporto.  On  the  arrival  of  another  British 
armament,  consisting  of  above  thirty  thousand  men,  under  generals  Wei- 
lesley and  Beresford,  Soult  was  obliged  to  retire  from  Portugal  with  con- 
siderable loss.  Sir  Arthur  Weilesley  advanced  with  rapidity  into  Spain, 
and  having  united  his  troops  with  a  Spanish  army  of  thirty-eight  t.iou- 
sand  men,  under  General  Cuesta,  they  marched  on  Madrid.  On  the  26th 
of  July  General  Cuesta's  advanced  guard  was  attacked  by  a  detachment 
of  the  enemy,  and  as  a  general  engagement  was  daily  expec^te'.  Sir  Ar- 
thur Weilesley  took  a  strong  position  at  Talavera.  On  the  following  day 
a  very  obstinate  engagemenl  commenced,  which  was  cotiinutd  with 
various  success  till  the  evening  of  the  28lh,  when  Ih-;  Freu  ;  rctieated, 
leaving  behind  them  seventeen  pieces  of  cannon.  'I'he  baUle  \'as  most 
•evere,  the  English  Wsuig  in  killed,  wounded,  and  i  tuisint.  ^Jv  thousand 


THE  TRBASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


•89 


men,  while  ihc  Ions  on  the  part  of  the  Frencii  was  estimated  at  ten  thou- 
sand. For  the  great  skill  and  bravery  displayed  in  this  action  Sir  Arthur 
VVellcsiey  was  created  a  peer,  with  the  title  of  Viscount  Wellington. 
The  French  army  was  commanded  by  Victor  and  Sebastiani ;  but  soon 
afterwards  the  junction  of  Ncy,  Soult,  and  iMortier  in  the  rear  of  the  En- 
glish, compelled  them  to  fall  back  on  Badajoz,  and  Cuesta  remained  in 
Spain  to  check  the  progress  of  the  French. 

Austria,  stimulated  by  what  was  passing  in  .Spain,  had  once  more  at- 
tempted to  assert  her  independence ;  and  Bonaparte  had  left  the  penin- 
sula  soon  after  the  battle  of  Corunna,  in  order  to  conduct  in  person  the 
war  which  was  thus  renewed  in  Germany.     Hostilities  had  been  declared 
on  the  6th  of  April,  when  the  archduke  Charles  issued  a  spirited  address 
to  the  army  preparatory  to  his  opening  the  campaign.     The  whole  Aus- 
trian army  consisted  of  nine  corps,  in  each  of  which  were  from  thirty  to 
forty  thousand  men.     Bonaparte,  in  addition  to  the  French  corps,  now 
congreifated  under  his  standard  Bavarians,  Saxons,  and  Poles  ;  and  such 
was  his  celerity  of  movement,  and  the  impetuosity  of  his  troops,  that  in 
the  sliort  space  of  r)ne  month  he  crippled  the  forces  of  Austria,  and  took 
possession  of  Vienna  on  the  13th  of  May.     On  the  21st  and  Q2d  of  the 
same  month,  the  archduke  Charles,  who  had  taken  his  position  on  the 
left  bank  of  the  Danube,  engaged  Bonaparte  between  the  villages  of  As- 
perne  and  Essling,  and  completely  defeated  him,  compelling  him  to  retire 
to  Loban,  an  island  on  the  Danube.    The  Austrians  were,  however,  so 
much  weakened  by  this  battle,  as  to  be  unable  to  follow  up  their  success, 
and  both  armies  remained  inactive  till  the  4th  of  July,  when  Bonaparte, 
having  been  greatly  reinforced,  relinquished  his  situation  amid  a  violent 
torrent  of  rain,  and  drew  up  his  forces  in  order  of  battle  on  the  extremity 
of  the  Austrian  left  wing.    The  allies  were  greatly  disconcerted  by  this 
unexpected  movement,  and  being  obliged  to  abandon  the  strong  position 
which  they  held,  an  engagement  commenced  near  Wagram,  under  every 
disadvantage,  when  the  French  were  victorious,  and  the  Austrians  re- 
treated towards  Bohemia.     A  suspension  of  hostilities  was  soon  after- 
wards agreed  on,  which  was  followed  by  a  treaty  of  peace,  concluded  at 
Schoenbrun,  Oct.  15,  by  which  the  emperor  of  Austria  was  compelled  to 
cede  several  of  his  most  valuable  provinces,  to  discontinue  his  inter- 
course with  the  court  of  London,  and  to  close  his  ports  against  British 
vessels. 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  was  fitted  out  with  great  secrecy  one  of 
the  most  formidable  armaments  ever  sent  from  the  shores  of  England.  It 
consisted  of  an  army  of  40,000  men,  and  a  fleet  of  39  sail  of  the  line,  36 
frigates,  and  numerous  gun-boats,  &c.  The  command  of  the  first  was 
given  to  the  earl  of  Chatham,  of  the  last  to  Sir  R.  Strachan.  The  chief 
objects  of  the  enterprise  were  to  get  possession  of  Flushing  and  the  island 
of  Walcheren,  with  the  French  ships  of  war  in  the  Scheldt;  to  destroy 
their  arsenals  and  dock-yards,  and  to  effect  the  reduction  of  the  city  of 
Antwerp.  The  preparations  which  had  been  made  for  this  expedition, 
and  the  immense  sums  of  money  expended  on  it,  raised  the  expectations 
of  the  nation  to  the  highest  pitch ;  but  it  was  planned  without  judgment, 
and  therefore  necessarily  terminated  in  loss  and  disgrace.  On  the  arrival 
of  the  armament  in  the  Scheldt,  the  contest  between  Austria  and  France 
had  been  doc* Jed;  the  military  state  of  the  country  was  widely  diflTerent 
from  what  hid  been  represeruod ;  and  Antwerp  instead  of  being  defence- 
less, was  completely  fortified.  The  attack  on  the  island  of  Walcheren 
succeeded,  anu  Flushing  surrendered  after  an  obstinate  resistance  of 
twelve  days;  but  as  the  cou.itry  assumed  a  posture  of  defence  that  was 
totally  unexpected,  all  idea  af  proceeding  up  the  Scheldt  was  abandon' i, 
and  the  troops  remained  a^  Walchoren.  where  an  epidemic  fever  raged. 
Of  tiie  fine  aripv  that  Icit  Portsmouth  a  few  months  before,  one  half 


roo 


TIIK  T11KA6UHY  OF  HISTORY. 


perished  on  tlic  pcstilciitittl  sliorcs  of  Wnlchrren ;  luul  of  tlie  reiiiitii)ci«r 
who  reliiriied  in  December,  many  were  alTliiaetl  with  incurable  thrnnio 
diseases. 

The  other  events  of  the  year  may  be  briefly  told.  The  French  selHe. 
ment  at  Cayenne  surrendered  to  an  Enylish  and  Porlugnese  force,  and 
the  island  of  Miirtinitjiie  was  soon  aft(;rward»  captured  by  British  arms. 
A  French  fleet,  con.'si(<iing  of  ten  sail  of  the  line,  which  lay  in  the  Uasque 
roiids,  under  tlie  protection  o*"  the  forts  of  the  island  of  Aix,  was  ailncked 
by  a  squadron  of  gun-hoat«!,  fire-ships,  and  frigates,  tmder  Lord  Cocliniiie 
who  e:iplnred  four  sliips,  disabled  several  others,  and  drove  the  rest  on 
shore.  .\  gallant  action  was  likewise  performed  by  Lord  CollinpuooJ 
who,  on  the  Lsl  o*"  October  destroyed,  in  the  biiy  of  Rosas,  three  s,nl  o| 
the  line,  two  fi'g.'tes,  and  twenty  transports.  To  these  successes  may 
be  added,  tb'S  reduction  of  some  small  islands  in  the  West  Indies,  and 
the  n<.p'A\r-j  of  a  Russian  flotilla  and  convoy  in  the  Haltic,  by  Sir  jHmeg 
Saunr.i'e/. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  year,  public  attention  was  engrossed  with  & 
•jarli'-r.neiitary  inquiry  into  the  conduct  of  liis  royal  highness  the  duke  of 
Vcr'.,  coniinandci'-in  i-liief;  agiiinst  whom  Colonel  Wardle,  an  ofliccr of 
ni'.itl;'.,  had  brought  forward  a  series  of  charges,  to  the  eflect  that  Mrs, 
Y.i^cy  Ann  (Clarke,  a  once  favoured  courtesan  of  the  duke,  had  carried  on 
I  trairn^  in  military  commissions,  with  his  knowledge  and  concurrence. 
Dm  iiig  the  progress  of  this  investigation  the  house  was  fully  attended,  itg 
!neinl)ers  appearing  highly  edified  by  the  equivocal  replies  and  sprightly 
rallies  of  the  frail  one.  But  the  duke,  though  guilty  of  great  indiscro- 
lion,  was  acquitted  of  personal  corruption  by  a  vote  of  the  house,  he 
however,  tlunight  proper  to  resign  liis  employment.  Various  circnm. 
stances  which  afterwards  transpired  tended  to  throw  considerable  sng. 
picion  on  the  motives  and  characters  of  the  parties  who  instituted  the 
inquiry. 

A.  D.  1810.— The  parliamentary  session  commenced  with  an  inquiry 
into  the  late  calamitous  expedition  to  Walchcren  ;  and  after  a  long  debate 
in  the  house  of  commons,  the  conduct  of  ministers,  instead  of  being  ceii. 
sured,  was  declared  to  be  worthy  of  commendation.  In  the  course  of  the 
discussion,  Mr.  Yorke,  member  for  Cambridge,  daily  enforced  llic  Klumi- 
ing  order  of  the  house  for  the  exclusion  of  strangers — a  measure  which 
was  veiy  unpopular,  and  became  the  subject  of  very  severe  animadver- 
sions in  the  London  debating  societies.  John  Gale  Jones,  the  director  of 
one  of  these  societies  called  the  "  British  Forum,"  having  issued  a  placard, 
notifving  tliat  the  following  question  had  been  discussed  there  : — "  Which 
was  a  greater  outrage  on  the  public  feeling,  Mr.  Yorke's  enfcr  cement  of 
the  standing  order  to  exclude  strangers  from  the  house  of  commons,  or 
Mr.  Windham's  attack  on  the  press?"  and  that  it  had  been  unanimously 
carried  against  the  former.  Mr.  Yorke  complained  of  it  as  a  breach  of 
privilege,  and  Jones  was  committed  to  Newgate.  On  the  12th  of  March, 
Sir  Francis  Burdett,  who  had  been  absent  when  Mr.  Jones  was  committed, 
brouglit  forward  a  motion  for  his  liberation,  on  the  ground  that  his  im- 
prisonment by  the  house  of  commons  was  an  infringement  of  tne  law  of 
the  lund,  and  a  subversion  of  the  principles  of  the  constitution.  This  mo- 
tion  bo\\}g  negatived.  Sir  Francis  published  a  letter  to  his  constituents,  the 
electors  of  Westminster,  in  which  he  stated  his  reasons  for  objecting  to 
the  imprisonment  of  Mr.  Jones,  and  adverted  in  very  pointed  terms  to  the 
illegality  of  the  measure.  This  letter  was  brought  forward  in  the  house 
by  Mr.  I.ethbridge,  who  moved  that  it  was  a  scandalous  publication,  and 
that  Sir  FVancis  Burdett  was  guilty  of  a  flagrant  breach  of  privilege.  After 
an  adjournment  of  a  week,  these  resolutions  were  carried;  and  a  motion 
that  Sir  Francis  Burdett  should  be  committed  to  the  Tower,  was  likewise 
carried  by  a  majority  of  thirty-seven  members.    A  wamuit  was  accord- 


intfly  sign 
aiiii  coniiii 
illegality  c 
9ih  of  A( 

poiict'  O/lJi 
Iioiisr,  urr 
Tower.     'J 
ihty  heard 
oil  Tower 
For  a  limc! 
iiig  that  till 
killed.     At 
was  liberati 
parlizans  k 
and  retiirne 
As  for  Mr. 
Newgate,  ai 
double  grie\ 
Oil  the  3 
made  on  tin 
iiioriiiiig  his 
about  the  lie 
jumping  up 
liim  across  t. 
to  iiis  maste 
spected  the  i 
the  porter's  i 
iiig  open  the 
cut.    Subseq 
having  failed 
/irtit  alarm,  ai 
was  held  on 
to  (he  evide 
was  believei 
posed  injury. 
On  the  ret 
vanccd  with 
Spanish  army 
their  victorioi 
however,  mu 
wandering  fri 
themselves  oi 
was  greatly  s 
Marshal  IVIass 
Lord  Welling 
lains.     With 
Hodrigo  and  A 
were  compel 
induce  the  B 
cumstances ; 
was  as  laudab 
senaat  lengt! 
and  therefore 
summit  of  thi 
place  on  the 
and  Portugal 
upwards  of  2(1 
.Sonera],  by  an 


THE  TUEAtiUllY  OF  llItSTOllY. 


7U1 


in^ly  bigiicd  by  the  spuukeruf  tlie  liuuse  uf  comiiiuiis,  f(  r  tlic  appioiiciiHioii 
aii'i  coiniiiitiiieat  uf  lliu  rigiit  hoiiourubU;  baronet.  Sit  Fniiii:is  urged  Ihu 
jlleir;ilily  of  tlie  B|H'".!;Lr"5  u.;rr;iiit,  lUid  resisltd  lliu  execiuiuii  of  ii  tdl  lliu 
9lli  of  April,  wliuii  tin;  surjiuiit-al-iirms,  accoiiipaiiitd  by  iiiLSMii^fi% 
pullet'  oIli'L'rs,  and  dctacliments  of  the  military,  forced  open  ttie  baroiiel  j 
fu)U!)<'i  arrested  him,  and  conveyed  him,  by  a  cireuiloiis  route,  to  the 
Tower.  The  (jreatesl  indignation  prevailed  among  ilie  populace  when 
thuy  heard  of  the  apprehension  of  their  favourite;  and,  havinjj  as.-etii!iled 
oa  Tower  hill,  they  attacked  the  military  with  stoaeb  and  other  miswden. 
Fur  a  time  the  Holdieiii  submitted  to  the  insults  of  the  multltud<:;  but  find- 
ing that  their  audacity  increased,  they  fired,  and  three  of  the  rioters  svere 
killed.  At  the  prorojjatioii  of  parliament,  oa  the  vilst  of  June,  Sir  Francis 
was  liberated  from  the  Tower,  and  great  preparations  were  made  by  his 
parliziins  for  conducting  him  home,  but  he  prudently  declined  the  honour, 
uiid  returned  to  his  house  by  water,  to  avoid  the  risk  of  popular  tumult. 
As  for  Mr.  Oale  Jones,  who  claimed  a  right  to  a  trial,  he  refused  to  leave 
Newgate,  and  was  at  last  got  out  by  stratagem,  loudly  complaining  of  tho 
double  grievance  of  being  illegally  imprisoned  and  as  illegal'ly  discharged. 

On  the  31st  of  May  an  extraordinaty  attempt  at  assassination  was 
made  on  the  duke  of  Cumberland.  At  about  half-past  two  o'clock  in  the 
luormng  his  royal  highness  was  roused  from  his  sleep  by  several  blowg 
about  the  head,  which  were  proved  to  have  been  giveii  by  a  sabre;  and, 
iuinping  up  to  give  an  alarm,  he  was  followed  by  t'le  assassin,  who  cut 
liiin  across  the  thighs.  He  then  called  his  valet-in-WL'iting,  who  hastened 
to  Ills  master's  asfcislanee,  and  alarmed  the  house.  Having  closely  in- 
spected the  room,  to  see  if  any  one  were  concealed  therein,  they  went  to 
the  porter's  room  to  awaken  Sellis,  a  Piedmontese  valet ;  when,  on  forc- 
ing open  the  door,  they  found  him  stretched  on  the  bed,  with  his  throat 
cut.  Subsequent  circunistances  made  it  evident  that  this  wretch,  after 
having  failed  in  his  attempt  to  assassinate  the  duke,  had  retired  on  the 
first  alarm,  and  put  an  end  to  his  own  life.  Next  day  <l  coroner's  inquest 
was  held  t»n  the  body  of  Sellis,  and  after  bestowing  x  patient  attention 
iDliie  evidence,  the  jury  returned  a  verdict  oi  fclo  dc-se.  The  assassia 
was  believed  to  have  been  actuated  by  private  reseni'iient  for  some  sup- 
posed injury,  but  nothing  definite  was  elicited. 

On  the  retreat  of  Lord  Wellington  at  Talavera,  the  French  armies  ad- 
vanced with  astonishing  rapidity ;  and  having  defeated  and  dispersed  a 
Spanish  army  of  60,000  men,  at  the  battle  of  Ocana,  Nov.  19,  they  carried 
their  victorious  arms  into  almost  every  province  of  Spain.  They  were, 
however,  much  annoyed,  and  sometimes  repulsed  by  the  pai  riots,  who, 
wandering  from  place  to  place,  seized  every  opportunity  oi  revenging 
themselves  on  their  rapacious  invaders.  The  French  army  in  Portugal 
was  greatly  superior  in  numbers  to  the  English,  and  was  commanded  by 
Marshal  Massena,  prince  of  Fssling,  who  employed  every  artifice  to  induce 
Lord  Wellington  to  leave  the  strong  position  which  ho  held  on  the  moun- 
tains. With  this  view  he  undertook,  successively,  the  sieges  of  Cuidad 
Rodrigoand  Almeida,  both  of  which  places,  after  a  most  spirited  resistance, 
were  compelled  to  surrender.  All  these  stratagems  of  Massena  could  not 
mduce  the  British  general  to  hazard  a  battle  under  disadvantageous  cir- 
cumstances; and  the  cautious  conduct  of  his  lordship  on  this  occasion, 
was  as  laudable  as  his  courage  and  resolution  had  formerly  been.  Mas- 
sena at  lengtli  began  to  suspect  that  his  opponent  was  actuated  by  fear; 
and  therefore  determined  to  attack  hiin  in  his  intrenchments,  on  the 
summit  of  the  mountain  of  Buzaco.  An  engagement  accordingly  took 
place  on  the  27th  of  September,  when  the  combined  armies  of  England 
and  Portugal  con>  i.iy  defeated  the  French,  who  lost  on  th(  occasion 
upwards  of  2000  wit  n.  ^  few  days  after  this  engagement,  the  British 
i,';neral,  by  an  unexpected  movement,  retired  towards  Lisbon,  and  oc« 


702 


THK  TUKAdlfllY  OF  HltJTOHY. 


rupicd  ail  imprcgiiiihle  position  on  Torres  Vedras ;  wliith«r  hu  was  fol. 
lowed  by  MarHliiii  MuHsciia,  wlio  eiicaiiipj-d  dircrtly  in  his  front. 

While  these  I'VcntM  wure  tukiiifj  phico  in  Spain  and  Portugal,  the  sue- 
ceffflfid  tcrniinalion  of  sunie  dinttanl  naval  cxpedilioiiHHcrvcd  to  confirinthe 
gallantry  of  that  branch  of  Ih'' service.  'Ihe  Duleli  settlement  of  Am- 
boync,  with  its  dependt-n.  island.  ,  surrendered  to  a  British  force  Feb.  17. 
On  the  8th  of  August,  a  party  of  180  Uritisli  seamen,  under  the  coniniaii(i 
of  Captain  Cole,  attr.cked  Danda,  the  principal  of  the  Dutch  spice  isluiidH 
and  obliged  the  garrison,  consisting  of  1000  men,  to  surrender.  The  im- 
portant islands  ul  Uourbon  and  the  Mauritius  were  likewise  reduced,  at 
the  close  of  the  year,  by  a  British  armament,  under  the  comniaiid  of  Ad- 
miral Bcrie  md  Major-Oeneral  Abercrombi'^. 

Several  rk^ents  took  place  at  this  time  on  t.'e  continent  of  Europe,  not 
less  remaikable  for  their  no. elty  than  for  ihen  'mportance.  Bonaparte 
having  divorced  the  empress  Josephine,  espoused  on  the  Uth  of  March 
the  archduchess  Maria  Louisa,  daughter  of  the  emperor  of  Austria.  On 
Ihe  1st  of  July,  Louis  Bonaparte,  king  of  Holland,  after  having  made  a 
fruitlf.ss  atten.pt  to  improve  the  condition  of  his  unfortunate  subjtctti 
abdicated  the  throne  in  favour  of  his  eldest  son.  That  exhausted  country 
wai'p  immediately  seized  by  Napoleon,  and  annexed  to  the  French  empire- 
"^1'  iri'js  XIIL  of  Sweden,  being  advanced  in  age  and  having  no  children' 
L.Dse  for  his  successor  Charles  Augustus,  prince  of  Augustinberg;  but  as 
this  prince  died  suddenly,  it  became  necessary  to  nominate  his  succes.sor. 
The  candidates  for  this  high  office  were  the  prince  of  Holstein,  the  king 
of  Denmark,  aad  the  French  marshal  Bernadotte,  prince  of  Ponte  Corvo. 
The  latter  h^ing  favoured  by  Napoleon  and  by  the  king  of  Sweden,  he 
was  unanimously  chosen  crown  prince,  and  his  installation  took  place  on 
the  1st  of  November,  in  the  presence  of  the  assembled  diet.  A  few  days 
afterwards  war  was  declared  against  Great  Britain;  all  intercourse  was 
urohibited,  and  the  importation  of  colonial  produce  interdicted. 


CHAPTER  LXHL 

TUB  REIGN  OF  GEORGE  III.   [tHE  REGENCY.] 

A.  D.  1811. — One  of  the  first  legislative  acts  o(  this  year  was  the  ap 
pointment  of  the  prince  of  V\  ',es,  under  certain  restrictions,  as  regent  in 
consequence  of  a  return  of  that  mental  malady  with  which  the  king  had 
formerly  been  temporarily  afflicted.  The  restrictions  were  to  continue 
till  after  February  1,  1812.  It  was  expected  that  a  change  of  ministers 
would  immediately  take  place,  but  the  prince  declined  making  any  cliaiige 
in  the  administration,  or  to  accept  any  grant  for  an  establishment  in  virtue 
of  his  new  functions. 

The  progress  of  events  in  the  peninsula  agam  claims  our  attention. 
Massena,  who  at  the  close  of  the  preceding  year,  had  posted  himself  at 
Santarem,  met  with  such  difficulties  in  procuring  the  necessary  supply  of 
provisions,  that  he  was  induced  to  abandon  his  position  on  the  6ili  of 
March,  leaving  behind  him  a  considerable  quantity  of  heavy  artillery  and 
ammunition.  He  continued  his  retreat  through  Portugal,  closely  pursued 
by  Lord  Wellington  and  General  V-^resford.  Numerous  skirmishes  took 
pjacf  between  the  outposts  of  the  hostile  armies;  but  on  the  16th  of  May 
a  more  important  action  ensued  at  the  river  Albuera,  between  Marshal 
Soult  and  General  Beresford.  The  contest  continued  with  great  impetu- 
osity for  several  hours,  till  at  length  victory  declared  in  favour  of  the 
Anjjlo-Portuguese  ♦.roops,  and  the  French  were  compelled  to  retreat. 
The  loss  of  the  French  was  estimated  at  9,000,  among  whom  were  five 
generals ;  the  io^i:>  Ox  the  allies  amounted  to  about  half  that  number. 


TiiR  tiii:a!«ihy  ok 


roRY. 


703 


AftiT  this  victory  fifiitral  Ufn-'tfonl  invested  the  im|iortaiit  city  of  Ua. 
(lajon,  bill  WHS  (tt)li|r('cl  ti>  rainc  the  sicuf.  in  oonseijuenfc  of  the  jniiction 
of  th«'  Freiu'h  iiriiiies  uwU'r  Sonit  nnd  Mannoiit. 

The  war  wnH  at  the  same  time  conihieted  with  ureal  spirit  in  ilifTerent 
parts  of  Spain.  In  f'atalonia  the  operations  of  the  Krench  were  erowned 
with  success;  but  in  Andalusia  they  were  eompelled  to  retire  before  the 
determined  bravery  of  the  allied  f<trees.  This  army  had  landed  at  .\l({e. 
■iras,  under  General  (Jraham,  with  the  inti'iition  of  attai-kmg  the  Ireneh 
troops  engaged  in  the  siege  of  Cadiz.  t)n  the  .'jth  of  March  they  took  a 
itroiig  position  on  the  heights  of  Harossa,  where  they  were  attacked  on 
the  -5th  by  a  superior  force  of  the  enemy.  After  a  remarkably  severe 
engagement,  the  French  retired  in  disorder,  with  the  loss  of  .'1,000  men; 
but  the  numerical  inferiority  of  the  allies  preclmled  the  hope  of  pursuing 
them  with  success.  The  subsequent  events  of  the  war  in  the  peninsula, 
during  this  year,  were  neither  numerous  nor  important.  The  French 
army,  who  had  threatened  to  "plant  their  ea<fle8  on  the  walls  of  Lisbon, 
and  to  drive  the  Knglish  into  the  sea,"  were  not  only  unable  to  carry  theii 
threat  into  execution,  but  were  frequently  defeated  by  troops  which  they 
had  been  lau{;ht  to  despise. 

While  the  military  prowess  of  England  was  thus  displayed,  the  supe- 
riority of  her  navy  was  sutMciently  manifested  by  the  success  wlm-h  at- 
tended  all  its  operations.  A  combined  French  and  Italian  squadron,  con 
sisting  of  five  frigates  and  six  smaller  armed  vessels,  was  encountered  off 
tiie  island  of  Lissa,  in  the  gulf  of  Venice,  by  an  Knglish  squadron  com- 
posed of  four  frigates  only ;  the  contest  was  fierce  and  for  a  time  doubtful, 
but  at  length  British  valour  prevailed,  and  three  of  the  enemy's  frigates 
were  taken.  On  the  2lst  of  .Inly,  a  French  flotilla,  consisting  of  twenty- 
six  VI  "^sels,  was  attacked  off  the  coast  of  Calabria,  by  an  Knglish  frigate 
and  a  sloop,  and  the  whole  of  them  were  captured  without  the  loss  of  a 
man.  These  and  other  gallant  encounters,  though  on  a  small  scale,  re- 
do'inded  much  to  our  naval  credit. 

'Vom  the  year  1807,  when  the  celebrated  "  orders  in  council"  were 
is:  lied,  a  secret  discontent,  indicative  of  hostilities,  had  evinced  itself  in 
the  Jiiiled  States  of  America.  This  misunderstanding  was  greatly  in- 
creased in  the  pre.'^ent  year  by  an  unfortunate  encounter  between  the 
Amiriean  frigate  President, commanded  by  Commodore Rodgers,  and  the 
British  sloop  of  war  Little  Belt,  Captain  Bingham.  The  particulars  of 
this  occurrence  were  reported  by  the  captaui  of  the  Little  Belt,  who  at- 
tributed  the  blame  entirely  to  the  Americans.  At  any  rate,  the  American 
states  prepared  for  war,  which  was  soon  afterwards  declared. 

During  the  months  of  November  and  December  the  internal  tranquillity 
of  the  country  was  disturbed  by  frequent  riots  in  the  manufitcluring  dis- 
tricts of  Nottinghamshire,  Derbyshire,  and  Leicestershire.  The  prineioal 
cause  of  discunt.jiu  was  the  introduction  of  a  new  kind  of  machinery  for 
stDckiiig-weaving.  The  rioters  assumed  the  name  of  Luddites,  and  thf  y 
became  so  dangerous  that  th«  legislature  deemed  it  necessary  to  use  se- 
vere measures  for  their  suppression. 

A.  D.  1812.— The  restrictions  which  had  been  imposed  upon  the  prince 
of  Wales  by  the  regency-bill  were  now  withdrawn,  it  being  the  unani- 
mous opinion  of  'he  medical  authorities  that  there  was  not  the  slightest 
prospect  of  his  majesty's  return  to  a  state  of  perfect  sanity.  The  prince 
therefore  assumed  the  full  powers  belonging  to  the  sovereignty  of  Britain  ; 
and,  contrary  to  general  expectation,  very  little  change  was  made  in  the 
cabinet.  On  the  j~ih  of  February,  the  regent,  in  a  letter  to  the  duke  of 
York,  declared  that  he  "  had  no  predilections  to  indulge,  nor  resentments 
to  gratify  ;"  intimating,  however,  a  desire  that  his  government  might  be 
strengthened  by  the  co-operation  of  those  wilti  whom  his  early  habits  had 
been  formed,  and  authorizing  the  duke  to  communicate  his  sentiments  to 


704 


TllK  THKA8UKY  OF  UlrtTOIlV. 


Iioidi  firry  and  firciivillp.  To  (Imh  ovcrliiro  iIu-hc  iioblruipn  ir\tvi  i,  j^. 
iiiiri'MtTvtMlly  (  xproKiiit;  tlif  iiii|ioN»iliility  of  tin  tr  iihi:iii^'  witli  the  princnl 
(;ovrriinii'iii,  u\viri(r  to  llirir  (lilTcrtiiccH  of  opinion  l)«Mn(r  too  iiiaii)  iiiid  inn 
iMiporliint  to  iidinil  of  hhcIi  union.  Tlii'  nxasiiri's  proposed  fur  rcpLMlinn 
the  [Hiiitl  lawH  H((iiinNt  tlit-  piipiHts  were  ii((itut('d  in  both  housea  u{  parlia 
nit'Ml  this  session,  liut  ueru  tu'Kiitivcid  by  a  'juvdt  riiiijority. 

The  (hHlnrl>iin(MH  Hnion(^  the  nianurarturing  ehiHNrs,  which  ho|;tiii  limt 
year  in  Nottinghamshire,  had  extended  into  finneashiro,  ('heshire,  hd,] 
ihe  weHi-ridinu  of  Vorkshire.  Tlie  nroperly  of  individuals  as  well  aH  the 
machinery  waH  deHtroyed  by  ni^r||iiy  iniiniudcr^ ;  a  eystein  uf  nnlitarr 
training  was  adopted,  artd  aceret  oathH  adniiniHtcrcd  ;  in  short,  the  nurn- 
b(!r  and  (hiring  spirit  o|  the  rioters,  and  tho  Hteadincss  with  whieh  their 
plans  were  condiieted,  rendered  th(!in  ho  formidable  as  to  require  iho  in- 
terposiiion  of  the  leirislature.  A  large  military  foree  was  aceordinuly  mj,. 
lioned  in  the  disturbed  eounties,  and  by  a  rijfid  enforcement  of  the  lnw, 
and  the  ado|)tion  of  remedial  measures  lor  the  distresses  of  llic  luUnir 
ina  poor,  trarxpiillity  was  at  length  restored. 

While  the  public  mind  was  agitated  by  these  occurrences,  an  event  oc- 
curred  whieh  was  al  oni-e  truly  lamentable  and  important.  On  the  llth 
of  May,  as  Mr.  I'jsrceval,  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  was  enteiinir  ihc 
lobby  of  the  house  of  commons,  about  five  o'clock,  a  person  iiain('(l  Del 
lin^rhain  presented  a  pistol  to  his  breast,  and  shot  liiiii  througli  the  heart. 
The  act  was  so  sudden  and  astounding  that  no  one  of  the  many  individ- 
uals present  pieci;')ely  knew  what  had  Tiappcned,  and  it  was  tho  Adl  of  the 
martyr  only,  that  developed  the  nature  of  the  atrocious  deed.  The  uii. 
fortunate  gentleman  fell  back  towards  his  left,  againt^t  the  door  i'.tul  tie 
wall,  exelaiminir  faintlvi  "  0  God!"  the  last  words  he  utterred;  for  iin- 
mediately,  as  if  moved  by  an  impulse  to  seek  for  safety  in  the  house,  he 
made  an  effort  to  rtish  forward,  but  merely  staggered  a  few  paces,  and 
dropped  down.  Bellingham  was  taken  without  resistance,  a  few  minutes 
afterwards.  It  appeared  that  ho  was  a  Liverpool  ship  broker  who  had 
sustained  some  commercial  losses  in  Russia,  for  which  he  ihouglit  the 
government  was  bound  to  procure  redress,  and  his  memorials  on  the  sub 
ject  being  disregarded,  he  had  worked  up  his  gloomy  mind  to  the  mon- 
strous conviction  that  he  was  justified  in  taking  away  the  life  of  tlie  prime 
minister.  In  the  change  of  administration  which  took  place  in  conse- 
quence of  this  melancholy  circumstance.  Lord  Sidmouth  was  appointed 
secretary  of  state  ;  the  earl  Harrowby,  lord  president  of  the  council ;  and 
Mr.  Vansittart,  chancellor  of  the  exchequer. 

At  tho  commencement  of  the  campaign  in  the  Spanish  peninsula  fortune 
seemed  at  first  to  favour  the  enemy,  who,  on  the  9th  of  January,  made 
themselves  masters  of  the  city  of  Valencia,  which  General  Blake,  after  a 
feeble  resistance,  surrendered,  with  1G,000  men.  The  strong  town  of 
Peiiiscola,  which,  on  account  of  its  commanding  situation,  was  of  grcai 
im|xjrtance  to  its  possessors,  was  soon  after  surrendered  to  the  rrciich  liv 
the  treachery  of  the  governor.  Serious  as  these  misfortunes  were  to  tiu 
allies,  they  were  in  a  short  lime  counterbalancctl  by  the  success  which  ui- 
tended  the  exertions  of  the  British  commander.  After  a  fortnight's  sieg(, 
Lord  Wellington  carried  Cuidad  Rodrigo  by  assault,  on  the  J  9th  of  Janu- 
ary ;  and  on  the  IGih  of  April  the  strong  city  of  Badajos  surrendered  to 
liim,  after  a  long  and  most  obstinate  resistance.  After  the  capture  of  this 
city  the  allied  armies  proceeded,  without  opposition,  to  Salamanca,  where 
they  were  received  by  the  inhabitants  with  benedictions  and  acclamations. 
As  the  hostile  armies  were  now  so  situated  as  to  render  a  battle  almost 
inevitable,  Lord  Wellington  made  his  necessary  disposition?,  and  as  a 
favourable  opportunity  occurred  on  the  22d  of  July  for  attacking  the  em- 
my,  he  iinmcfiiately  took  advantage  of  it.  An  action  accordingly  ensued, 
iu  which  tho  French,  after  a  determined  and  obstinate  resisluacc,  werti 


TIIK  TIIKASUUY  OK  HISTOKY. 


704 


oblitfcil  ti)  jiive  way  ti>  tlu'  sii(>iTii)rl)r;ivcry  of  the  iniailiiiiis,  aiidlorrtrcal 
III  lilt'  iiiiiiosl  ciiiifii.tinii.  Tin-  ilarkiicKs  of  llii'  iii|2li(  was  very  f.ivunratile 
to  llic  liLitivt's,  yrl  iipwaniH  of  7,()()i»  priMtiiuTs  were  lakfii,  with  raylci, 
•,'uloiir^t  raiiiKJii,  and  ainiiiiiniti'Mi, 

Afli;r  lakintf  pnsHifHSKni  of  ilif  SpaiiiHli  ca|)ilal,  WflliiiKlon  advanced  to 
linr^ds  ;  hut  tu-iiii;  dilami  d  a  Idiik  liiiif  in  l)(*Ki('L!iiiir  it,  tlii>  iiinny  liad  an 
(i|)|nirtiiiii'y  «(  cniiciMitratiii^  llicir  I'Krct',  ami  (»f  r<!-tic(upyin>{  Madrid- 
Till"*  was  unc  of  ili<'  lawt  nuiitary  IranxaclitdiH  wliicli  took  \)\wv  on  tlie 
iM'iinisiila  diirini^  llic  year.  Kor  liis  ciniinnt  scrvircs,  wliicli  tliuni.'li  jjcn- 
crally  appncialfd  wl-ic  not  ovir-raicd,  \hc  corUs  Im  stowed  on  the  lliiti"!! 
cDinniaiuU.'r  ific  liilc  of  duke  of  (Uinlad  Kodri^o,  ami  con^ititutt'd  linn  ^mmi- 
t'raiisMnio  of  tin;  Spanisli  arnms.  'I'lii'  piimn  rt'ucni  of  (Jroal  llrilain, 
alMo,  will)  had  prcvionsly  I'unft.'rird  on  hnn  the  titlt;  of  carl,  now  raix'd 
hiin  to  ihi'  diirinly  of  a  niar(]iiis  of  Uw.  United  Iviii^ildni. 

Tim  lort'iromn  (nitlino  of  ilm  transactions  in  S|iain  will  put  tin;  rcadifr 
ill  possession  of  tlu-  principal  features  of  tlie  war  in  that  quarter.  We 
must  now  direct  his  attention  to  events  in  the  norihof  Knro|)e.  Thu 
fondly-cherished  scheme'  of  Honiipart(!  for  ruiniiiir  tlm  financs  of  (Jreat 
Britain  hy  cnllinK  oflT  her  coiumercial  inleieoinHo  with  Mnrope,  was, 
tliroiiijli  nitrigue  or  intiniulation,  adopted  hy  all  the  neutral  powers.  The 
hiairiiation  of  li'ade  on  th(!  continent,  thouy[li  it  was  submitted  to  Ity  their 
respective  sovereigns,  was  very  distn^ssing  tu  their  .suljjeelK,  espeeiully 
till!  lluHsians,  who  liad  been  accustomed  to  consider  Kn^land  as  their 
natural  idly.  At  length  the  emperor  of  Russia  resolved  to  sultmii  no 
loiiiitr  to  the  arbitrary  restrictions  whieli  the  will  (;f  Najtoleon  had  dictat- 
ed; and  a  war  between  thoscf  great  pow(>rs  was  the  immediate  residl. 
Ill  this  contest  the  Most  consideralile  stales  in  Kiirope  wert:  involved. 
The  allies  of  France  were  the  German  stales,  Italy,  Prussia,  Auhlria,  and 
Poland;  to  whom  were  opposed  the  combined  powers  of  Great  Urilain, 
Russia,  Swf'den,  and  S(»ain. 

Napoleon  placed  himself  at  tho  head  of  an  miinense  army,  and  now 
coiumeiieed  the  ever-memorable  struirtrlc.  After  passiiitj  ihrougii  Dres- 
den, and  visiinip;  in  rapid  succossi(Mi  Dantzie  and  Ivonijrsberg,  Ik;  reat-hed 
the  Niemen,  the  frontier  river  of  Russia,  on  the  ','3d  of  June.  On  the  lino 
of  marcii  wore  half  a  million  of  soldiers,  in  ihii  hioliest  stale  of  eipiipinent 
and  discipline:  to  whom  ho  issued  a  [)ro(dainalion  in  his  usual  eonlident 
and  laconic  stylo:  "  Russia,"  said  he,  "  is  driviiu  onwards  by  fatality  ;  let 
liiirdeslimos  bo  fulfilled,  and  an  end  put  to  the  fatal  inlluence  which  for 
;lie  last  lil'ty  years  she  has  had  on  tho  allairsof  Kurope.  Let  us  cross  the 
Nieiuen,  and  carry  the  war  into  her  territories."  On  tho  other  side  vast 
()reparatioiiH  had  also  been  made  ,  and  the  army,  consisting  of  about  three 
liundrcd  thousand  men,  was  under  the  immediate  command  of  tin!  eiii- 
(loror  Alexander,  and  his  sagacious  minister,  Barclay  do  Tolly.  The  jdau 
of  the  Russians  was  to  draw  the  invaders  from  their  resources;  to  make  a 
titand  only  in  favourable  situations:  and  to  weary  the  French  by  endless 
ijiarciies  ovr  the  dreaify  plains,  till  tho  iiKdemeney  of  a  Russian  winter 
kIiouIiI  lend  its  aid  to  slop  their  ambitious  career.  Various  partial  en- 
iTa^reincnts  took  place  as  the  French  advanced,  tho  circumstances  of 
which  w(  ro  so  diirerontly  related  in  the  bullelins  of  tho  opposite  parties, 
hat  notiiiiif!:  is  certain  but  the  general  result.  Considerinjf  the  immense 
masses  of  men  that  were  in  motion,  the  French  proceeded  with  great 
.apidity,  notwithstanding  the  checks  they  occasionally  experienced,  till 
the  7th  of  September,  when  the  Russians  delerinined  to  make  a  vigorous 
iilfort  against  their  farther  advance.  The  two  armies  mot  between  llie 
villages  of  Moskwa  and  Borodino,  when  a  most  sanguinary  battle  took 
jliico.  On  this  occasion  each  of  the  hoiiile  armies  numbered  125,000 
nic'i ,  and  wlien  '*  night's  "abli!  curtain"'  closed  the  horrid  scene,  the  bodice 
Ji  (\  ;iv  liiousand.  either  dead  or  wounded,  were  stretched  ou  the  field  ol 
Voi,.  1 — 15 


!Bltl|,:( 


mi 

m 


I   / 


706 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


battle !  Both  parties  claimed  the  victory,  though  the  advantage  v»a8  evi. 
dently  on  tlio  side  of  liie  French,  as  tliey  proceeded  without  farther  oppo! 
sition  to  Moscow,  where  they  expected  to  rest  from  their  toils  in  peace 
and  g0(^d  winter-quarters.  About  mid-day  on  the  11th  the  turrets  of  Mos- 
cow, jriitteringf  in  the  sun,  were  descried.  The  troops  entered ;  but  the 
city  was  deserted,  and  all  was  still.  The  capital  of  ancient  Russia  wag 
not  destined  to  be  the  abiding-place  of  its  present  occupants.  A  dense 
smoke  begun  to  issue  from  numerous  buildings  at  the  same  instant.  By 
order  of  the;  governor.  Count  Rostopchin,  bands  of  incendiaries  had  been 
employed  to  work  destruction.  I'uhlii!  edifices  and  private  houses  stid. 
denly  buret  into  flames;  and  every  moment  explosions  of  gunpowder 
mingled  wiili  the  sound  of  the  crackling  ti-nbers,  while  frantic  men  and 
women  weic  seen  running  to  and  fru,  with  flambeaux  in  their  haiidn 
spreading  the  work  of  destruction. 

Paralysed,  as  it  were,  by  the  awful  scene,  and  by  the  extreme  danger 
which  he  could  no  longer  fail  to  apprehend.  Napoleon  lingered  five  weeks 
imong  the  reeking  ruins  of  Moscow.  Around  him  the  Russians  were 
Q'ily  incireasing  in  strength,  especially  in  cavalry;  and  it  was  not  till 
Mnrat  had  been  defeated,  and  tlie  first  snow  had  fallen,  that  he  detennined 
on  retreat.  At  length  he  left  the  city  of  the  czars,  on  the  loth  of  Oc- 
tober, taking  with  him  all  the  plunder  that  could  be  saved  from  the  fire- 
having  at  llie  time  one  hundred  thousand  effective  men,  fifty  thousand' 
horses,  five  hundred  and  fifty  field-pieces,  and  two  thousand  artillery 
wagons,  exclusive  of  a  motley  host  of  followers,  amounting  to  forty 
thousand.  lie  had  no  choice  left.  To  subdue  the  whole  Russian  army, 
and  by  that  means  to  secure  to  himself  an  honourable  peace,  appe  ired 
beyond  tlie  verge  of  possibility  ;  to  return  with  all  possible  expedition 
was  the  only  course  to  pursue  ;  and  he  accordingly  directed  the  march  of 
his  army  towards  Smolensko,  where  he  arrived  with  his  imperial  guard  on 
the  9th  of  November.  Alternate  frost,  sleet,  and  snow  made  the  weather 
insL-pportable ;  oventome  by  cold,  hunger,  and  fatigue,  the  soldiers  and 
their  liorses  perished  by  thousands.  At  length,  after  taking  leave  of  his 
marshals  at  Smorgony,  December  5,  Napoleon  privately  withdrew  from 
the  army,  and  reached  Paris  on  the  I9th.  The  Russians  never  relaxed 
in  the  pursuit  till  they  reached  the  Vistula,  and  not  a  day  passed  in  which 
some  of  the  fugitives  did  not  fall  into  their  hands.  By  Christmas-day 
they  estimated  their  captures  at  41  generals,  1,'298  officers,  167,510  pri- 
vates, and  1,131  pieces  of  cannon :  the  grand  army  was,  in  fact,  annihilated. 

During  the  absence  of  Bonaparte  in  this  disastrous  expedition,  an  at- 
tempt was  made  to  subvert  his  power  at  home,  which,  had  it  not  been 
speedily  suppressed,  would  probably  have  occasioned  another  revolution. 
The  conductors  of  the  conspiracy  were  the  ex-generals  Mallet,  Lahorie, 
and  Guidal,  who,  having  framed  a  fictitious  seriatus  consuUum,  went  to  the 
barrack  of  the  first  division  of  the  national  guards,  and  read  a  proclama- 
tion, stating  that  the  emperor  had  been  killed,  and  commanding  the  troops 
to  follow  them.  The  soldiers,  Utile  suspecting  any  forgery,  obeyed,  and 
sufiTered  tiiemselves  to  be  led  to  different  posts,  where  they  relieved  the 
guards.  The  conspirators  then  arrested  the  ministers  of  police,  and  hav- 
ing assassinated  General  Hullin,  who  had  marched  into  the  city  with 
some  troops,  they  attempted  to  seize  the  chief  of  the  etat-inajor  of  Paris; 
but  being  arrested,  they  were  committed  to  prison,  and  tried  before  a  mili- 
tary commission,  when  the  three  generals  and  eleven  others  received 
sentence  of  death,  which  being  put  into  execution,  tranquillity  was  re- 
stored to  Paris. 

A.  D.  1813. — The  attempts  made  by  ministers  to  arrange  the  differences 
between  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States  were  unsuccessful;  the  in- 
fluence of  President  Madison,  the  English  contend,  being  exerted  in  the 
rejection  of  all  pacificatory  proposals.    The  conquest  of  Canada,  was  ru 


THli  THEA8UHY  OF  HISTOHY. 


707 


lolveJ  oil  by  the  .ViuiTicaiis,  and  troops  were  dispiitclied  into  that  country  ; 
but  the  vijrilance  of  the  British  commanders  baffled  the  scheme,  and  obliged 
them  to  desist  from  the  enterprize.  The  Americans,  however,  were  snc- 
cessful  at  sea,  and  captured  several  British  frigates  and  otlier  vessels. 

After  the  retreat  of  Bonaparte  from  Russia,  the  emperor  Alexander 
pursued  the  remaining  French  forces  as  far  as  Posen,  a  city  in  Poland. 
He  was  here  joined  by  the  king  of  Prussia,  who,  considering  the  present 
an  advantageous  opportunity  for  restoring  the  equilibrium  of  Europe,  re- 
nounced his  alliance  with  France,  and  concluded  a  treaty  with  Great 
Britain  and  her  allies.  In  the  meantime  Bonaparte  was  using  all  his  ef- 
forts to  revive  the  spirit,  and  call  forth  the  resources  of  his  empire,  and 
having  appointed  the  empress  regent  during  his  absence,  he  joined  his 
army,  now  consisting  of  350,000  new  troops.  On  the  7th  of  May  the 
hostile  armies  engaged  at  Lutzen,  in  Upper  Saxony,  where  the  French 
were  commanded  by  Bonaparte,  and  the  allies  by  General  Winzingerode. 
The  conflict  was  long  and  bloody,  and  both  parties  claimed  the  victory. 
On  the  19th,  20th,  21st,  and  22d  of  the  same  month,  severe  actions  took 
place,  and  not  less  than  40,000  were  killed  or  wounded.  On  the  Ist  of 
June,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  emperor  of  Austria,  Napoleon  made  propo 
sals  to  the  emperor  Alexander  for  a  suspension  of  hostilities ;  in  conse- 
quence of  which  an  armistice  was  concluded,  which  was  to  terminate  on 
Mie  20lh  of  July. 

It  now  became  necessary  for  Bonaparte  to  withdrav;  about  twenty 
thousand  of  his  best  troops  from  Spain,  to  reinforce  this  grand  army  in 
the  north  of  Europe.  This  diminution  of  the  French  force  in  the  penin- 
sula could  not  fail  to  gratify  the  Anglo-Spanish  army;  yet  a  concurrence 
of  unavoidable  circumstances  prevented  the  marquis  of  Wellington  from 
opening  the  campaign  till  about  the  middle  of  May.  Having  obliged  the 
Frencli  to  evacuate  Salamanca,  he  pursued  them  with  as  much  iiasle  as 
possi' '  ind  having  passed  the  Ebro,  he  came  up  with  them  at  Vittoria, 
a  town  in  the  province  of  Biscay,  where,  on  the  21st  of  June,  a  battle 
was  fought  between  the  allied  troops  under  Lord  Wellington,  and  tlie 
French,  commanded  by  Joseph  Bonaparte  and  Marshal  Jourdan.  Admi- 
rable bravery  and  perseverance  were  displayed  by  the  allies,  who  com- 
pletely vanquished  the  French,  and  took  one  hundred  and  fifty  cannon 
and  four  hundred  and  fifteen  wagons  of  ammunition.  On  the  side  of  the 
allies  there  were  seven  hundred  killed  and  four  thousand  wounded ;  and 
it  was  known  that  the  loss  of  the  French  was  much  greater.  Being  hotly 
pursued,  the  French  retreated  across  the  Bidassoa  into  France.  The  ba- 
ton of  Marshal  Jourdan  being  taken,  was  sent  to  the  prince  regent,  who, 
ill  return,  created  the  marquis  of  Wellington  field-marshal  of  the  allied 
armies  of  Great  Britain,  Spain,  and  Portugal.  The  Spanish  government 
acknowledged  their  obli„'ations  to  the  British  hero,  by  conferring  on  him 
the  dignity  of  prince  of  Vittoria. 

While  the  cause  of  rational  freedom  was  so  nobly  sustained  by  Lord 
Wellington  in  this  part  of  Spain,  Sir  John  Murray  had  landed  his  troops 
at  Tarragano,  in  order  to  invest  that  place.  After  he  had  made  himself 
master  of  Fort  St.  Philippe,  on  being  informed  of  the  approach  of  Mar- 
shal Su!ihet,  he,  without  waiting  for  information  of  the  enemy's  strength, 
iliseinbarked  his  troops,  leaving  behind  him  his  artillery.  For  this  pre- 
cipitation Sir  John  was  severely  censured  by  some  political  writers,  and 
being  tried  at  Winchester,  in  February,  1815,  he  was  found  guilty  and  ad- 
judged "  to  be  adntonished  in  such  a  manner  as  his  royal  highness  the 
commander-in-chief  may  think  proper."  His  royal  highness  approved 
'he  sentence  of  the  court,  but  as  the  conduct  of  Sir  John  Murray  was 
attributed  merely  to  an  error  of  judgment,  the  case  did  not  appear  to  him 
til  call  for  any  further  observation. 
\fter  the  battle  of  Vittoria  the  French  army  retreated  with  great  pre- 


708 


THK  TUJCASUilY  OF  HISTORY. 


cipiiiition  into  FraiicL',  pursimcl  by  the  li^hl  troops  of  the  allies,  and  the 
iiiHrquiij  of  VVellingUiu  raused  ilie  forls  of  Pampcluiia  and  St.  Sebastian 
to  be  immediately  invested  When  Bonaparte  received  intelligence  ol 
these  successes  of  the  British  army,  he  dispatched  Marshal  Soult  wiih 
some  forces  to  check  their  progress.  On  tiie  13th  of  Jnly  the  Frcncli 
marshal  joined  the  army,  and  on  the  24th  he  made  a  vigorous  attacj^  on 
the  right  wing  of  the  allies,  at  Koncesvallos,  commanded  by  General 
Byiig.  From  that  day  till  the  2d  of  August  the  hostile  armies  were  con- 
tinually engaged  ;  the  passes  of  the  mountains  were  bravely  disputed 
by  the  French,  but  the  British  were  irresistible,  and  the  French  again  re- 
treated beyond  the  Pyrenees.  The  fortresses  of  St.  Sebastian  and  Parn- 
peluiia  surrendered  to  tiie  British  arms  afterwards,  and  on  the  7tii  of 
October  Lord  Wellington  entered  the  French  territory  at  the  head  of  his 
army. 

While  in  the  south  of  Europe  these  tviinsactions  were  taking  place,  a 
great  crisis  was  at  hand  in  the  north.  During  the  armistice,  which  had 
extended  to  the  lllh  of  August,  several  attempts  were  made  by  the 
aUies  »,o  obtain  such  a  peace  as  would  effect  and  confirm  the  safety  and 
tranquillity  of  the  continental  states.  These  endeavours  were,  however 
rendered  abortive  by  the  insolent  pretensions  of  the  French  ruler,  which 
induced  the  emperor  of  Austria  to  relinquish  his  cause,  and  to  join  in  the 
alliance  against  him.  Hostilities  were  resumed  on  the  17th  of  August, 
when  Bonaparte  immediately  prepared  to  attack  the  city  of  Prague ;  but 
being  informed  that  his  Silesian  army  was  exposed  to  imminent  danger 
from  the  threatening  posture  of  the  allies,  bo  was  obliged  to  change  his 
plan  of  operations.  He  accordingly  left  Bohemia,  and  made  an  at- 
ta(!k  on  the  allied  army  inider  the  Prussian  General  Blucher,  who  was 
compelled  to  make  a  retrograde  movement.  The  further  progress  of  the 
French  in  this  quarter  was  arrested  by  the  advance  of  the  grand  army 
of  the  allies  towards  Dresden,  which  made  the  immediate  return  of  Napo- 
leon necessary.  He  accordingly  advanced  by  forced  marches  to  the 
protection  of  that  city,  and  having  thrown  into  it  an  army  of  130,000  men, 
he  awaited  the  attack  of  his  enemies.  The  grand  assault  was  made  on 
the  26th  of  August,  but  as  there  was  no  prospect  of  taking  Dresden  by 
escalade,  the  allies  abandoned  tin.  attempt,  and  took  a  very  extended  po- 
sition on  the  heights  surrounding  tiie  city,  where  they  were  attacked  by 
the  French  on  the  following  day,  and  obliged  to  retire  with  considerable 
loss.  It  was  in  this  engagement  that  General  Moreau,  who  had  left  his 
retreat  in  America  to  assist  in  restoring  liberty  to  Furope,  was  mor'aliy 
wounded,  while  conversing  with  the  emperor  Alexander.  A  cannon-ball, 
which  passed  through  his  horse,  carried  off  one  of  his  legs  and  shattered 
the  other.  He  had  both  legs  amputated,  but  survived  his  disaster  only  a 
few  days,  dying  from  exhaustion. 

In  the  following  montii  several  well-contested  battles  took  place,  in 
which  victory  was  uniformly  in  favour  of  those  who  contended  against 
tyranny  and  usurpraion.  Put  as  Leipsic  was  the  point  to  which  the  elforts 
of  the  confederates  were  principally  dirt  "ted,  Bonaparte  left  Dresden,  and 
concentrated  his  forces  at  Rc^hlitz. 

At  this  period  an  important  accf'ssion  was  made  to  the  allied  cause,  by 
a  treaty  with  Bavaria,  who  agreed  to  furnish  an  army  of  fifty-five  ilioii- 
sand.  men.  The  hostile  armies  were  now  both  in  the  vicinity  of  Leipsic; 
the  French  estimated  at  about  200,000  men ;  the  allies  at  250,000.  On 
the  night  of  the  15th  rockets  were  seen  ascending,  announcing  tiie  ap- 
proach of  i?lucher  and  the  crown  prince  of  Sweden.  At  day-break  on  tiie 
Ifith,  the  French  were  assailed  along  their  southern  fi-ont  with  the  great- 
est fury,  but  they  failing  to  make  any  impression,  Napoleon  assumed  thn 
offensive.  Throughout  the  day,  by  turns,  each  party  had  the  advanliijr,  ; 
but  at  night-fall  the  French  contracted  their  po'-jition,  by  drawing  iiciii: ; 


the  walls 
iixiis  tor  r 
l{airi;ineiu 
ragi.'d  froi 
i|Uislied  w 
were  (;illit 
.Sa.\oiis,  V 
Bixty-fivc 
were,  the  i 
prisoners, 
TUi!  alli 
^uiiieil,  an 
to  tlie  lihi 
Russia.    T 
distinguish 
terntorie.t 
now  joined 
solved,  and 
Tlie  spin 
nicated  Use 
tion  ill  that  I 
detrimental 
of  the  allies 
and  wall  thi 
orange  colo 
The  exainpi 
peiideiice  of 
aiinoiince  tli 
at  the  head 
all  the  succ 
wi'Aii  and  as 
stariiholdcr, 
nil?  ally  of  I 
accept  such 
On  the  l.' 
(ieciaralioii 
ducted  them 
of  it  was  to 
powerful ; 
one  of  the 
'ionfinn  to  tl 
ler  kings.,  nt 
eqiiilibriiiin 
fronj  the 
tier."    This 
conduct  to 

A.  D.  1814. 

senate,  am 

French  to  re 

liis  appeals 

twenty-five 

tiic  levy  of  11 

h'ft  Paris  on 

troops  as  he 

.*ii  one  side 

flit*  allied  fur 

'Hie  army 

of  February, 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


709 


the  Willis  uf  Leipsic.  The  foUu.viiig  ihiy  was  speiU  in  making  prepara- 
ii.Mi.-i  I'M*  H  roiiijvviil  of  iht;  uoiUfsl ;  aii<l  uii  llie  ISil'  aiioiliei  f.-eaeral  t-n- 
;»iiir(;iiit;iit  took  plici;.  Tlie  loss  of  the  victors,  airing  a  battle  which 
rai^i^il  from  its  dnwii  of  day  till  night,  was  severe,  but  that  of  the  vaii- 
i|ulsl»"d  was  itinitely  more  so.  Above  forty  thousand  of  the  French 
were  (ntlier  killed,  wounded,  or  taken  prisoners;  seventeen  battalions  of 
Sa.\ons,  Willi  their  artillery,  joined  the  ranks  of  the  allies,  who  look  also 
Bixty-live  pit.-ces  of  cannon.  Tlie  iuiiiiiHliatfi  fruits  of  this  splendid  vic»M>y 
were,  tlie  capture  of  Leipsic  and  of  liie  Saxon  king,  of  thirty  thouHand 
prisoners,  and  of  all  the  bag^^age  and  ammniiilion  of  the  flying  foe. 

Tlie  allies  did  not  fail  to  follow  up  the  advantages  which  had  been 
gained,  and  their  close  pursuit  of  the  French  army  rendered  its  retreat 
to  the  Itiiini!  in  some  respects  as  calamitous  as  their  recent  flight  from 
Russia.  The  troops  under  Ulucher  and  Schwartzenburg,  who  had  greatly 
ilistinguislieil  themselves  during  the  late  encounters,  entered  the  French 
terntories  on  New-year's  day,  IHI  I.  All  the  minor  states  of  Germany 
now  joined  the  grand  alliance,  the  confederation  of  the  Rhine  was  dis- 
solved,  and  the  continental  system  established  by  Bonaparte  was  broken  up. 

The  spirit  which  had  attended  the  march  of  the  allied  armies  commu- 
nicated Itself  to  tlie  United  Provinces,  and  occasioned  a  complete  revolu- 
tion ill  that  part  of  Furope.  The  arbitrary  annexation  of  that  country  was 
detrimental  to  their  (•ommercial  interests;  and  at  lengih,  on  the  approach 
of  the  allies  to  the  Dutch  frontier,  the  people  of  Amsterdam  rose  in  a  body, 
and  with  the  rallying  cry  of  "  Orange  Boveii,"  universally  displayed  the 
orange  colours,  and  proclaimed  the  sovereignty  of  that  illustrious  house. 
The  example  of  Amsterdam  was  followed  by  the  other  towns,  the  inde- 
pendence of  Holland  was  asserted,  and  a  deputation  sent  to  London,  to 
aiiiioiince  the  revolution  and  invite  the  prince  of  Orange  to  place  himself 
at  the  head  of  his  countrymen.  The  Dutch  patriots  were  assisted  with 
all  the  succours  that  England  could  furnish,  and  the  prince  of  Orange 
went  and  assumed  the  reins  of  government,  not  under  the  ancient  title  of 
stadlholder,  but  as  king  of  the  Neiherlands.  Denmark,  the  only  remain- 
ing ally  of  Bonaparte,  was  compelled,  by  the  crown-prince  of  Sweden,  to 
acnepl  such  terms  as  the  allied  sovereigns  pleased  to  prescribe. 

On  the  1st  of  December  the  allied  sovereigns  issued  from  Frankfort  a 
declaration  explanatory  of  their  views.  "  Victory,"  they  said,  "  had  con- 
ijiicted  them  to  the  banks  of  the  llhiiie,  and  the  first  use  which  they  made 
of  it  was  to  offer  peace.  They  desired  that  France  might  u  reat  and 
powerful ;  because,  in  a  state  of  greatness  and  strength,  she  constituted 
one  of  the  foundations  of  the  social  edifice  of  Europe.  They  offered  to 
ijoutirni  to  the  French  em[)ire  an  e.vient  of  territory  which  France,  under 
aer  kings,  never  knew.  Desiring  peace  themselves,  they  wished  sucikaa 
fqiiilibrinin  of  power  to  be  establishetl,  that  Knrope  weight  be  preserved 
from  tlie  calamities  which  lor  the  last  twenty  years  had  overwhelmed 
lier."  This  declaration  was  based  on  inoileration  and  justice,  and  in  their 
conduct  to  France,  the  allies  acted  up  to  their  professions. 

A.  D.  1814. — .After  his  hasty  relrcit  to  Paris,  llie  emjieror  assembled  the 
seiiale,  and  iieglei'ted  ii.)  means  that  were  likidy  to  rousts  the  spirit  of  the 
French  to  resist  their  invaders.  Little  elfecu  was,  howiiver,  produced  by 
Ills  a()peals  to  llie  people,  and  In;  was  under  iIk;  necessity  of  ap[)oiiiting 
twuiity-five  commissioners,  invcslfid  with  absolute  power,  to  accelerate 
ttie  levy  of  new  forces.  Having  confided  tlie  regency  to  the  empress,  he 
left  Paris  on  ihe  2o\.\\  of  January,  and  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  such 
troops  as  he  could  mu-sler.  His  dominions  were  at  this  time  threatened 
;)ii  one  side  by  the  British  troops  nn  ler  Wellington,  and  on  the  other  by 
llie  allied  forces  commanded  by  ilieir  respective  sovereigns  and  generals. 
The  army  nnd^r  (he  marq'.iis  of  Wellington  attacked  Soull's  on  the  27th 
■ji"  Fri.truary,  and,  dftcr  an  obstinate  baltlc,  drove  the  eiieniy  from  a  strong 


710 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


position  near  Orlhos  ;  mid  on  tlic  1  -'ih  of  March,  a  division  under  Murslia; 
IJeresford  .uivHnciMl  to  llio  important  city  of  Hourdeaux,  and  entered  it 
amid  tlie  acclamations  of  llu!  inhabitants;. 

After  the  entry  of  the  northern  alhcs  into  France,  several  sanguinary 
contests  took  place,  wiien  Bonaparte,  finding  that  it  was  impracticable  to 
prevail  by  force,  attempted  to  retrieve  his  affairs  by  negotiations.  Pleni- 
potentiaries  appointed  l)y  tlie  belligerent  powers  accordingly  assembled 
at  Ohatillon,  and  the  allies,  whose  moderation  had  on  every  occasion 
been  particularly  conspicuous,  offered  to  sign  preliminaries  of  peace 
which  would  have  secured  to  Bonaparte  very  important  advantages.  But 
these  offers  were  rejected  by  Napoleon,  who  required  that  his  family 
should  be  placed  on  foreign  thrones,  and  insisted  on  terms  incompatible 
with  the  liberties  of  Europe.  The  conferences  were  discontinued,  and 
the  allied  sovereigns  indignant  at  the  conduct  of  one  who  displayed  such 
an  aversion  to  peace,  resolved  on  vigorously  prosecuting  war.  In  all  the 
engagements  which  ensued,  the  superiority  of  the  allies  was  manifested. 
Napoleon  now  adopted  the  singular  resolution  of  getting  to  the  rear  of 
h's  enemies,  and  by  this  ill-judged  movement  left  open  the  road  to  Paris. 

As  soon  as  the  Prussian  and  Austrian  commanders  could  form  a  junc- 
tion,  they  advanced,  at  the  head  of  200,000  combatants,  towards  the  cap- 
ital of  France,  and  having  gained  a  complete  victory  over  the  army  com- 
inanded  by  Marmoiit  and  Mortier,  under  Joseph  Bonaparte,  they  entered 
the  city  which  capitulated  on  the  31st  of  March.  The  enthusiasm  exhibited 
on  this  occasion  surpassed  the  most  sanguine  expectations  of  the  con- 
querors.  The  whole  city  seemed  to  rise  en  masse,  and  to  hail  the  allies 
as  the  liberators  of  Europe  and  the  avengers  of  tyranny.  The  while 
cockade  was  generally  worn,  tiie  air  resounded  with  shouts  of  "Vive  le 
Roi,  Louis  XVIII !"'  "Vivent  les  Bourbons!"  and  the  conquerors  were 
welcomed  with  the  acclamations  of  "Vive  I'Empereur  Alexandre!'" 
"Vive  ie  Roi  de  Prusse!"  •  V'iveni  uos  li'ueidteuio!" 

The  French  senate  now  assembled  and  appointed  a  provisional  goveni- 
inent,  at  the  head  of  which  was  the  celebrated  Talleyrand,  prince  of  Beiie- 
vento.  At  a  subsequent  meeting  they  declared  that  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
and  !iis  I'ainily  had  forfeited  all  claim  to  the  throne,  and  that  the  army  and 
nation  were  consequently  absolved  from  the  oaths  of  allegiance  to  him. 
Tiic  senate  then  directed  their  attention  to  the  choice  of  a  sovereign  ;  and 
af'er  a  long  consultation,  in  which  there  was  considerable  difference  of 
opinion,  they  determined  to  recall  the  Bourbons.  Marshal  Marmont,  after 
obtaining  a  promise  that  the  life  of  the  emperor  should  be  spared,  and 
that  his  troops  might  pa.ss  into  Normandy,  joined  the  allies  at  the  head  of 
twelve  thousand  men. 

Bonaparte,  who  had  retired  to  Fontainbleau,  finding  that  he  had  beeu 
deposed  by  the  senate,  and  that  the  allies  were  fully  determined  not  to 
treat  with  him  as  the  ruler  of  France,  now  offered  to  abdicate  in  favour 
of  his  infant  son  ;  but  this  was  peremptorily  rejected,  and  he  solemnly  ab- 
dicated his  usurped  crown  on  the  6th  of  April,  on  which  day  a  new  con- 
stitution was  given  to  France,  and  Louis  XVI 1 1,  was  recalled  to  the  throne 
of  his  ancestors.  As  soon  as  the  emperor  Alexander  was  informed  of 
t'lis  event,  he  proposed,  in  the  name  of  the  allied  sovereigns,  that  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte  should  choose  a  place  of  retreat  for  himself  and  family. 
By  a  mistaken  sense  of  generosity,  the  small  island  of  Elba,  situated  in 
the  Mediterranean,  between  Corsica  and  the  Tuscan  coast,  was  given  to 
liim,  in  full  sovereignty,  with  an  annual  revenue  of  two  millions  of  fnuics, 
to  be  paid  by  the  French  government;  and,  what  was  a  still  more  extrav- 
agant stretch  of  misplaced  liberality,  a  further  allowance  of  two  millions 
live  hundred  thousand  francs  was  to  be  allowed  to  the  different  braiu'he.'^ 
of  his  family  ;  who,  as  well  as  Napoleon,  were  to  be  suffered  vo  retain  theu 


THH:  THKASUUY  of  HldTOllY. 


711 


U8'\rpeil  lilies.      The  priiicipiilily  of  PariiKi  was  also  settliid  on  Maria 
jouisa,  (li.-:  wilV',  in  wliicli  she  was  to  be  succeeiled  by  her  son. 

Louis,  who  i;:ii]  for  several  years  residt'd  at  Hartwell  in  liiickinghain. 
gliirc,  liaviiifj  accepted  the  basis  of  the  eoiistitution,  made  a  public  entry 
into  London,  and  was  accompanied  to  I)ov<;r  by  the  prince  regent,  from 
whence  liis  majesty  embarked  for  Calais,  being  conveyed  to  that  port  by 
the  liiike  of  Clarence.  He  entered  Paris  on  the  3rd  of  May,  where  he  w  ts 
.".voiirably  received  by  the  inhai)itants,  but  the  soldiery  were  far  from  ap- 
pearing satisfied  with  the  change  which  iiad  been  so  suddenly  wrought. 
On  the  same  day  Bonaparte,  after  a  variety  of  adventures,  in  which 
he  had  several  narrow  escapes  from  the  populace,  arrived  at  his  abode  in 
Elba. 

Owing  to  some  unaccountable  delay  in  tlie  transmission  of  the  treaty 
concluded  at  Paris,  or  to  the  envy  of  Maislial  Soult,  who  hoped  to  defeat 
his  opponent,  a  sanguinary  battle  was  fought  near  Toulouse,  on  the  10th 
of  April,  between  his  army  and  that  of  the  marquis  of  Wellington.  But 
this  useless  and  deplorable  effusion  of  blood  only  added  fresh  trophies  to 
those  already  gained  by  the  Britisli  connnander.  The  last  action  of  the 
peninsular  war  was  fought  at  Bayonne,  in  whi(;h  Sir  John  Hope  was 
wounded  and  taken  prisoner,  and  General  Andrew  Hay  was  killed. 

Among  the  minor  transactions  of  this  period  we  must  not  omit  that  at 
tlie  close  of  the  preceeding  year  Hanover  was  recovered  by  the  crown 
prince  of  Sweden,  who  also  reduced  Holstein  and  Westphalia.  The 
king  of  Deinnark  joined  the  grand  alliance,  and  Dantzic  surrendered  after 
a  long  siege.  The  British,  however,  were  repulsed,  with  considerable 
loss,  in  the  attempt  to  take  the  strong  fortress  of  Bergen-op-Zoom. 

A  treaty  of  peace  and  amity  was,  on  the  30th  of  May,  concluded  at  Paris, 
between  his  Britannic  majesty  and  his  most  Christian  majesty,  by  which 
it  was  stipulated  that  the  kingdom  of  France  should  retain  its  limits  entire, 
ns  it  existed  previously  to  the  revolution;  that  Malta  should  be  ceded  to 
Great  BriUin;  and  that,  with  the  exception  of  Tobago,  St.  Lucie,  and  the 
Mauritius,  all  other  possessions  held  by  the  French  in  January,  179^, 
should  be  restored.  Tliese  and  a  few  minor  conditions  being  arranged  at 
the  time,  it  was  agreed  that  all  other  subjects  should  be  settled  at  a  (!0n- 
gress,  to  be  held  at  Vienna  by  the  high  contracting  parties,  at  some  future 
period.  The  retuiii  of  peace  was  celeijrated  by  illuminations,  feaslings, 
and  every  joyful  demonstration  that  so  happy  an  event  could  inspire. 

A.  D.  1815. — We  now  resume  our  brief  narrative  of  the  events  which 
were  occuring  on  the  other  side  of  the  F'nglish  channel.  Louis  XVJH. 
devoted  his  attention  to  the  re-establishment  of  order  in  the  government, 
and  endeavoured  by  every  kind  and  conciliatory  ac!  to  soothe  the  animos- 
ities that  still  rankled  in  the  bosoms  of  the  royalists,  republicans,  and  Bo- 
napartists.  The  new  constitution,  which  was  modelled  upon  that  of  Eng- 
land, was  readily  accepted  by  tiie  senate  and  legislative  body.  The  con- 
scription was  abolished;  the  unsold  property  of  the  emigrants  was  re- 
stored to  tiiem ;  the  shops,  which,  during  the  republic  and  the  reign  of 
Bonaparte,  had  always  remained  open  on  Sundays,  were  now  ordered  to 
ba  closed,  a.id  the  liberty  of  the  press  was  restricted. 

A  congr  "s  of  the  allied  powers  was  now  hcid  at  Vienna,  for  the  purpose 
of  makiu;,  ..sch  political  and  territorial  regulations  as  should  effectually 
restore  the  equilibrium  of  pv)wer,  and  afford  a  more  certain  prospect  of 
permanent  tranquillity.  But  a  state  of  tranquillity  was  not  so  near  as  their 
sanguine  wishes  contemplated.  An  event  happened  ere  their  delit  'jrations 
were  brouglit  to  a  conclusion,  which  made  it  necessary  for  them  to  lay  aside 
their  pen,  and  once  more  take  up  the  sword.  The  restless  and  intriguing 
sjiirit  of  Xapok'itn  was  not  to  be  confined  Id  the  isle  of  Klba,  and  the  allied 
iimiies  were  no  sooner  withdrawn  from  France,  than  hf:  meditated  a  de- 
scent oil  Its  coast.     He  accordingly  took  advantage  of  the  first  onportunitv 


S'i 


11    /: 


712 


Tili:  ■nu....-'i.  itV  l)i''  illaTOUY. 


If  llid  ihl.mtl,  ;iUi'iiil(  il  l<y  llu!  ofliutTs  and  troops  wlio 
iitiicr,  u  illi  iimiiy  (.'oiHicaus  and  Klbuse,  and  landed 


lllilf,  Oll'rifMi  i>r  l(;Ukiuj{ 

liad    I'olloui  d   liiiii  lliit 

at  CaniK.s,  in  I'lovcncc.  on  Uk.'  Isl  of  March. 

The;  news  of  lijs  landniii  win  inwlantly  (-onveyed  to  Paris,  and  large 
bodies  of  troops  w«'r(!  sent  to  arri'st  his  progress,  and  niakt)  him  prisoner. 
Milt  Lonis  was  surrounded  by  traitors  ;  the  army  royretied  tiie  loss  of 
their  chief  who  had  so  often  led  them  to  victory;  thtiy  forgot  iiis  de- 
sertion of  their  comrades  in  tiie  moment  of  peril,  and  doubted  not  that 
his  return  would  efface  their  late  ilisgracc,  and  restore  them  to  Miat  proud 
pre-eminence  from  which  they  had  fallen.  At  his  approach,  the  aiiuiog 
that  had  been  sent  to  oppose  him  openly  declared  in  his  favour,  and  lie 
pursued  his  journey  to  Paris,  augmenting  his  numbers  at  every  step,  i,;i 
all  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  king  was  deemed  useless.  On  n.acliinir 
the  capital,  he  was  received  by  the  inconstant  multitude  with  acclainaiioiis 
as  loud  as  tiutse  which  so  recently  had  greeted  the  arrival  of  Louis.  Such 
is  the  instability  of  what  is  termed  popular  favour.  'I'lio  unfortunate  king 
retired  first  to  Lisle,  and  then  to  Ghent. 

When  the  allied  sovereigns  were  informed  that  Napoleon  had  broken 
his  engagements,  and  saw  that  his  bad  faith  was  fully  f 'jiial  to  his  ainbi- 
tion,  tliey  published  a  declaration  to  the  effect  that  IKni'.-.purle,  having  vio. 
lated  the  convention,  had  forfeited  every  claim  lo  public  favour,  and 
would  henceforth  be  considered  only  as  an  outlaw.  In  answer  to  ,liis,  he 
publisiied  a  counter-declaration,  asserting  that  he  was  recalli  >;  ,o  the 
throne  by  the  unanimous  voice  of  the  nation,  and  that  he  was  re."  .ived  to 
devote  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  cultivating  the  arts  of  peace. 

In  the  meantime  preparations  for  war  were  made  by  all  the  ullitd 
powers.  The  English,  whose  army,  under  the  comm;ind  of  the  duke  of 
Wellington,  was  at  this  time  in  ti;o  Netherlands,  resolved  not  to  leave  the 
man  they  had  once  conquered  in  quiet  possession  of  th(!  throne  of  Francn, 
and  every  engine  was  put  in  motion  to  re-assemblo  the  troops.  Bonaparte, 
likewise,  actively  prepared  for  the  coulesl  that  was  to  decide  his  fate.  He 
collected  together  all  the  disposable  forces  of  France,  and  led  them  towards 
the  Netherlands,  hoping  to  arnve  before  fresh  troops  could  come  to  the 
aid  of  the  English  and  Prussians,  and  thus  defeat  them  and  get  possession 
of  Brussels. 

The  army  under  the  immediate  direction  of  the  French  emperor,  includ- 
mg  the  corps  of  Grouchy,  amounted  to  upwards  of  150,000  men,  with  350 
pieces  of  cannon.  In  an  order  of  die  day,  issued  the  14th  of  June,  he  said, 
"the  moment  has  arrived  for  every  Frenchman  who  has  a  heart,  to  con- 
quer  or  perish."  The  allied  troops  in  Flanders  were  yvX  quiet  in  their 
oantomnents.  The  Prus,so-Saxon  army  formed  the  left,  the  Anglo-Bel- 
gian army  the  right.  The  former  was  115,000  strong,  commanded  by  the 
veteran  Blucher;  the  latter  about  80,000,  commanded  by  the  duke  of  VVel- 
Hugton,  whose  head-quart'^rs  were  at  Brussels;  those  of  Bluciier  were 
at  Nanmr,  about  sixteen  leagues  distant, 

On  :lir  15th  of  .lune  the  memorable  campaign  of  1815  was  begun,  by 
Napoleon  driving  in  the  advance  posts  of  the  Prussians  on  the  river  Sain- 
bre,  while  Marshal  Ney  ci"Ossed  the  river  at  Marchiennes.  repulsed  the 
Prussians,  and  drove  back  a  Belgian  brv'.de  to  Qnatre-Bras.  In  the 
I'vaning,  at  eleven  o'clock,  the  duke  of  Wellington  (who,  togcMiier  with 
the  duke  of  Brunswick,  aiid  the  principal  oflicers  then  in  Brussels,  were 
participating  in  the  festivities  of  a  ball,  given  by  the  duchess  of  Richmond), 
received  a  dispatch  from  Marshal  Blucher,  informing  him  that  Bonaparte 
was  on  his  march  to  Brussels,  at  the  head  of  an  hundred  and  fifty  thous- 
and  men.  The  dance  was  suspended,  and  orders  issued  for  assemMinjf 
the  troops.  On  the  Ifiih  was  fought  the  battle  of  Ligny,  in  whicii  llluclier 
was  defeated,  and  forced  to  retreat  to  Wavre,  having  narrowly  { i^capcd 
being  taken  prisoner.     On  the  same  day  the  duke  of  Wellington  iiad  di 


THE  TRKASURV   OF  HISTORY. 


719 


reoteil  lii=  wli.ili;  army  Id  a.lvaiiiM!  mi  Qiiatie-Hras,  \vi*.!i  ilio  iiitciilioii  of 
8ucci)uriiig  Hliii;luM',  lint  was  liJmsi'lf  iiiiackoil  by  a  larni'  hoily  uf  cavalry 
ami  iiif.iiilry,  hcforo  liis  own  cavalry  hail  joiiicc].  In  tin;  incanlimtj  tlio 
Kiiulislii  miller  Sir  Tlumias  Pictoii,  ami  ll«'l{;iaiis,  iiinlcr  llic  iliiki-  of  Briiiis- 
wick,  iuid  lo  suslaiii  lliu  iiiipetiinus  attacks  of  tin;  Frciicli,  unmiiiaiiikHl  by 
Marshal  Ney,  wliti  was  eventually  repiilscil,  tlunisjb  with  cimsiilerable 
loss.  Ill  tins  action  fell  the  i,'allaiil  liuke  of  iJrunswick,  wlio  was  uiiivor- 
sally  and  ileserveilly  lainentcil.  The  whole  of  the  17th  was  employed  in 
preparations  for  the  eventful  battle  that  ensued. 

The  retreat  of  Hluelier's  army  to  VVavre  rendered  it  iiecesssary  for  Wel- 
lington to  make  a  corresponding  retrograde  movement,  in  order  to  keep  up 
a  coinmnnication  with  the  Prussians,  and  to  occupy  a  position  in  front  of 
the  village  of  Waterloo.  Confronting  the  |)osilion  of  the  allies  was  a 
chain  of  heights,  separnled  by  a  ravine,  half  a  mile  in  breadth.  Here  Na- 
poleon array(!d  his  forces,  and  having  rode  through  the  lines  and  given 
his  last  orders,  he  placed  himself  on  the  heights  of  llossome,  whence  he 
had  a  complete  view  of  the  two  armies. 

.\lii)ul  a  quarter  before  eleven  o'clock  the  battle  began  by  a  fierce  attack 
on  the  British  division  posted  at  Hougomont;  it  was  taken  and  retaken 
several  times,  the  EnglLsh  guards  bravely  defending  and  eventually  re- 
Diaining  in  possession  of  it.     At  the  same  lime  the  French  kept  an  inces- 
sant cannonade  against  the  whole  line,  and  male  repe;ited  charges  with 
Heavy  masses  of  cuirassiers,  suppiu'tcd  by  close  columns  of  infantry,  which, 
except  in  one  instance,  when  the  farm  of  La  tiaye  Sainte  was  forced, 
\vere  niiiformly  repulsed.     Ciiarges  and  counter-charges  of  cavalry  and 
liifiiiitry  followed  with  astonishing  pertinacity.     The  bravi;  Sir  Thomas 
Piclon  was  shot  at  the   head  of  his  division;  a  grand  charge  of  British 
cavalry  then  ensued,  which  for  a  momeiU  swept  everything  before  it;  but, 
assailed  in  its  turn  by  masses  of  cuir  issiers  and  Polish  lancers,  it  was 
forced  back,  and  in  the  desperate  ei  counter  Sir  William  Ponsonby  and 
nther  gallant  olTiccrs  were  slain.     Soon  after  this,  it  is  said,  the  duke  felt 
himself  so  hard  pressed,  that  ho  was  heard  to  say,  "Would  to  God  night 
or  Blucher  would  come."     As  the  shades  of  evening  approached,  it  ap- 
peared almost  doiii)tful  whetiier  the;  troops  could  much  longer  sustain  the 
unequal  conflict ;  l)ut  at  this  critical  moment  the  Prussian  cannonade  was 
heard  on  the  left,     Bimaparte  immediately  dispatched  a  force  to  hold  them 
m  check,  while  he  brought  forward  the  imperial  guards,  sustained  by 
the  best  regiments  of  horse  and  foot,  amid  shouts  of  "Vive  I'empereur," 
and  flourishes  of  martial  music.     At  tliis  moment  the  duke  of  Wellington 
brought  forward  his  whole  line  of  infantry,  supported  by  the  cavalry  and 
artillery,  and  promptly  ordered  his  men  to  "'charge!"     'I'liis  was  so  unex- 
pected by  the  enemy,  an<l  so  admirably  performed  by  the  Briiisli  troops, 
that  the  French  fled  as  though  the  whole  army  were  panic  stricken.     Na 
poleoii,  perceiving  the  recoil  of  his  columns  on  all  siiles,  eK<  'ined,  "it  is 
all  over,"  and  retreated  with  all  possible  speed.     The  Frencii  left  the  field 
in  the  utmost  confusion  and  dismay,  abandoning  above  one  hundred  and 
fifty  pieces  of  cannon.     They  were  pursued  by  the  victors  till  long  after 
(lark,  when  the  British,  exhausted  by  fatigue, halted;  the  Prussians  there- 
fore continued  the  pursuit,  and  nothing  could  be  more  complete  than  the 
discomfiture  of  the  routed  army  :  not  more  than  forty  thousand  men,  partly 
without  arms,  and  carrying  with  thein  only  twenty-seven  pieces  out  of 
their  numerous  artillery,  made  their  retreat  through  Charleroi.     The  loss 
of  the  allies  was  great ;  that  of  the  British  and  Hanoverian-j  alone  amounted 
to  thirteen  thousand.     Two  generals  and  four  colonels  were  among  the 
killed;  nine  generals  and  five  colonels  were  wounded;  among  them  wa 
Lord  I'xbridge,  who  had  fought  gallantly,  and  was  wounded  by  almo 
the  last  shot  tliai  was  fired  by  the  enemy.     Sui.-h  is  llie  gencrai,  ihoug 
necessarily  meagre,  iijtlino  of  the  ever-memorable  battle  of  Waterloo 


:i 


i\] 


714 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


evincing  ow.  of  llu;  noblcHt  proofs  upon  record  of  British  valour,  and  of 
Ihe  talents  of  a  great  nalioniil  connnander. 

Bona|)arte  returned  to  Paris,  in  the  gloominess  of  despair,  and  admitted 
that  his  iiiiny  vas  no  more.  Tlie  partisans  of  Louis  looked  forward  to 
the  restoration  of  the  IJourbonn;  anotlier  party  desired  a  republic;  wliilp 
the  Uoiiaparlists  showed  their  anxicf/,  to  receive  Napoleon's  abdication 
and  to  make  Maria  Louisa  empress-regent  durmg  her  son's  minority' 
Meanwhile  the  representatives  of  the  nation  declared  their  siliings  per- 
manent,  and  some  of  the  members  having  boldly  asserted  that  the  rin- 
conditional  abdication  of  Bonaparte  could  alone  save  the  state,  the  declar- 
ation was  received  with  applause,  and  the  fallen  emperor  was  persuaded 
once  more  to  descend  from  his  usurped  throne. 

A  commission  was  appointed  .  repair  to  the  allied  armies  with  propo- 
sals of  peace,  but  the  victors  had  lormed  a  resolution  not  to  treat  but  under 
tlie  walls  of  Paris.  The  duke  of  Wellington  then  addressed  a  proolama- 
tion  to  the  French  people,  stating  that  he  had  entered  the  country  not  ag 
an  enemy,  except  to  the  usurper,  with  whom  there  could  be  no  peace  nor 
truce,  but  to  enable  them  to  throw  off  the  yoke  by  which  they  were  op- 

firessed.  Wellington  and  Blucher  continued  their  march  to  Paris  with 
ittle  opposition,  and  on  the  .30th  it  was  invested.  The  heights  about  the 
city  were  strongly  fortified,  and  it  was  defended  by  fifty  thousand  troops 
of  the  line,  besides  national  guards  and  volunteerG.  On  the  3d  of  July, 
Marshal  Davoust,  the  French  eommarkler,  concluded  a  convention  with 
the  generals-in-chief  of  the  allied  armies,  who  stipulated  that  Paris  should 
be  evacuated  in  three  days  by  the  French  troops ;  all  the  fortified  posts 
and  barriers  given  up;  and  no  individual  pr^/socuted  for  his  political  opin- 
ions or  conduct.  The  provisional  government  now  retired,  and  on  the  6th 
Louis  made  his  public  entry  into  Paris,  where  ho  was  hailed  by  his  fickle 
subjects  with  cries  of  "Vive  le  roi !"  The  military,  however,  though 
beaten,  were  still  stubborn,  and  it  required  some  time  and  address  to  make 
them  acknowledge  the  sovereignty  of  the  Bourbons. 

Bonaparte  in  the  meantime  had  reached  Ihe  port  of  Rochefort  in  safety, 
from  whence  he  anxiously  hoped  to  escape  to  America;  but  finding  it  im- 
possible to  elude  th(i  British  cruisers,  he  went  on  board  the  Bcllerophon, 
one  of  the  vessels  blockading  the  coast,  and  surrendered  himself  to  Cap- 
tain Maitland.  Prior  to  this  he  had  sought  to  stipulate  for  a  free  pas- 
sage, or  to  surrender  on  condition  of  being  allowed  to  reside  in  f'ngliind 
in  honourable  exile  ;  but  neither  proposal  could  be  listened  to;  the  allied 
powers,  aware  of  his  reotJess  and  intriguing  disposition,  had  determined 
upon  the  island  of  St.  Helena  as  his  future  residence,  and  that  there  he 
should  be  kept  under  the  strictest  guard.  The  Bellerophon  proceeded  to 
Torbay;  Napoleon  was  trausferrrd  to  the  Northumberland,  commanded 
by  Admiral  Sir  G.  Cockhuiii,  and,  attended  by  some  of  his  most  attached 
friends  and  domestics,  he  in  due  coLTse  reached  his  destination,  but  not 
without  violently  protesting  sgamst  the  injustice  of  his  banishment,  after 
having  thrown  himself  upon  the  hospit;;lity  of  the  British  nation. 

Murat,  the  brother-in-law  of  Napoleon,  having  joined  the  allies  when 
he  found  the  career  of  his  friend  and  patrem  growing  to  a  close,  rejoined 
him  again  on  his  return  from  Elba ;  but  having  been  driven  from  the  throne 
of  Naples,  he  joined  a  band  of  desperadoes,  and  landed  in  Calabria,  where, 
being  speedily  overcome  and  taken,  he  was  instan'lj'  shot.  Marshal  Ney 
Cwho  had  promised  Louis  to  bring  Napoleon,  '^like  «  T»ild  beast  in  a  cage, 
to  Paris")  and  Colonel  Labedoyere.  suffered  for  their  treachcrj  ;  but  Lav- 
alette,  who  was  sentenced  fo  the  same  fate,  e8ca[)ed  from  p-ison,  dis- 
guised in  his  wife's  clothes,  and,  by  the  assistance  of  Sir  Robert  \*'ilsoii, 
Mr.  Hutchinson,  and  Mr.  Bruce,  got  out  of  the  (;ountry  undiscovercv'. 

A  congress  was  hsld  at  Vienna,  and  several  treaties  between  the  a.'ied 
powers  and  France  were  finally  adjusted.    (Nov.  20.)     The  addiiioiis  n.vle 


to  tlie  Frc 

teen  of  tli 

riMoned  b} 

as  an  arm 

taiiicd  for 

tu  be  paid 

the  works 

countries, 

in  the  gall 

dere,  ice, 

atern  justic 

Parisians. 

In  order 

concluded 

free  to  forii 

not  prove  ii 

attacked,  ;■' 

long  •...  i  sa 

palling,  and 

ages  will  hf 

history  of  tl 

the  splendo 

A.  n.  IHIC 

storm  had  s 

in  her  late  ti 

weakness  lu 

empt  from  it 

run  and  des 

sp"ctator  vjt 

blu  of  its  fur 

to  iicr  shore: 

of  motion  in 

velocity.     (J 

ill  tile  war 

tile  war,  the 

five  years  o 

diate  reduc  . 

by  goveriiint 

At  tlie  cf 

tempting  to 

at  tills  resu 

a  tax  thai  w 

txlciKJed  for 

in  favour  of 

The  house 

(liiit  a  matri 

and  Prince 

annual  provi 

ill  the  event 

to  his  royal 

coming  *ipleii 

iii?  file  p.i 

Hie  event 
B.ntish  ar;ii.« 
and  their  nei 
milting  atroc 
t"  fall  into  th 
procuring  rt-d 


'Ote^ 


THE  TUKASUttV  0)f  HiSTOir  . 


715 


CO  llie  Fieiich  lirritory  by  tin;  treaty  of  1814  wero  now  rcscimlod  ;  seven- 
teen of  the  froiitit'v  loitincil  towns  and  citit;s  of  Fiance  w«'rt'  to  be  (jar- 
riHoncd  by  the  allies  for  five  yearH  ;  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  troopSj 
as  iin  army  of  oeeupation  imler  the  duke  of  Wellington,  wen-  to  he  main- 
tuined  for  the  same  spaee  of  tin  ;  and  a  sinn  of  !)(I0,')00,0()0  francs  wa« 
to  be  paid  as  an  indemnity  to  t'- .  idlies.  It  was  '"'uiiiUT  agreed,  that  all 
the  works  of  art  whieh  had  been  ,  Sundered  by  the  French  from  other 
countries,  should  be  restored.  T!ii  s  the  master-pieces  of  art  deposited 
ill  the  ijallery  of  the  '.ouvre  (the  V^enus  de  Mediuis,  iho  Apollo  Helvi* 
dere,  ice,  &c.),  were  reelainied  by  their  respective  owners — an  act  of 
stern  justice,  but  one  which  excited  the  iitinont  indignation  among  the 
Parisians. 

In  order  to  secure  the  peace  of  Germany,  an  act  of  confederation  was 
concluded  between  its  respective  rulers,  every  member  of  which  was 
free  to  form  wliat  alliances  he  pleased,  provided  tney  vcie  su(di  as  could 
not  prove  injurious  to  the  generil  safety,  and  in  case  ol  one  prince  being 
attacked,  ;■"'  the  rest  were  hound  to  arm  in  his  dt;fencc.  Thus  ended  this 
lonif  •  ..  I  sanguinary  warfare,  tiie  events  of  which  were  so  rapid  and  ap- 
palling, and  their  consequences  so  mighty  and  inlooked-for,  that  future 
ages  will  l)e  toniple>'  to  doubt  the  evidence  of  facts,  and  to  believe  that  the 
history  of  the  ,  .neteenth  century  is  interwoven  witii  and  embellished  by 
the  splendour  -  '  fiction. 

A.  n.  IHIU.-  u  has  been  justly  observed,  tliat  "it  was  only  after  the 
storm  had  subsided  thai  England  became  8ensil)le  of  the  wounds  received 
ill  her  late  tremendous  struggk*.  While  hostilities  lasted,  she  felt  neiuicr 
weakness  nor  <i.sorder.  Though  a  principal  in  the  war,  she  had  been  ex- 
empt from  its  worst  calamities.  Battles  were  fought,  countries  were  over- 
run and  desolated,  but  her  own  border  remained  unassailable.  Like  a 
sp'.'ctator  viewing  securely  the  tempest  at  a  distance,  she  was  only  sep«i- 
ble  of  its  fury  by  the  wreck  of  neighbouring  nations,  wafted  at  inlerv,ds 
to  her  shores.  The  cessation  of  hostilities  in  IHI5,  was  like  the  cessation 
of  motion  in  u  gigantic  machine,  which  has  been  ui'tred  to  its  maximum  ' 
velocity.  One  of  the  first  results  of  peace  was  an  enormous  diminution 
ill  the  war  expenditure  of  the  government.  Duniig  the  last  five  years  of 
the  war,  the  public  expenditure  averaged  108,7'J(),000/,  During  the  first 
five  years  of  peace,  it  averaged  64,GG(),000i.  Peace  tltns  caused  an  imme- 
diate reduction  of  nearly  fifty  millions  in  the  iniouiu  oi  money  expended 
by  government  in  the  support  of  domestic  industry. 

Ai  the  cosnmenceinent  of  the  session  the  ministers  ..ere  defeated  in  at- 
tempting to  continue  the  property  tax  for  one  year  1:  .iger;  and,  chagrined 
at  this  result,  they  abandoned  the  war  duty  on  malt,  thereby  relinquishing 
a  tax  that  would  have  (iroduced  2,000,000/.  The  bank  restriction  bill  was 
extended  for  two  years  longer,  and  another  inelTectual  attempt  was  made 
in  favour  of  the  Roman  catholic  claims. 

The  house  was  now  informed,  by  a  message  fron-.  the  princp  regent, 
that  a  matrimonial  alliance  was  about  to  take  place  between  his  daughter 
and  I'rince  Leopold  of  Saxe  Cobourg :  upon  which  parliament  voted  an 
annu:d  jirovision  of  G0,000/,  for  supporting  a  suitable  establishment,  and, 
ill  the  event  of  the  decease  of  the  princess,  50,000i.  per  annum  was  secured 
to  his  royal  higliness  for  life.  The  nuptials  were  solemnized  with  be- 
coming ^iplendoiir,  on  the  2d  of  Mf.y,  at  Carlton  house.  In  the  .fuly  follow- 
ing tiie  prir.cess  Mary  gave  her  hand  to  herconsin  the  d  keof  Gloucester. 
'1  he  event  next  demanding  notice,  was  one  which  pn.ced  tlie  glory  ol 
British  arms  and  Uritish  liuinaniiy  in  a  conspicuous  light.  The  Algerines 
and  their  neighbours,  the  Tunisians,  had  long  been  in  the  habit  of  com- 
mitting atrocities  on  the  subjects  of  every  Christian  power  that  happened 
to  fall  into  their  haiujs.  Rep  'ated  remonstraiir:es  had  been  made,  wilhonl 
procuring  redress,  and  it  was  now  determined  that  this  horde  ol  pirates 


716 


TllK  THKA6UKY  Ui    HIdTOKY. 


•houM  Hither  acr«.'ilu  ti>  certain  propusuh,  ur  xufTer  for  so  loniraiKl  harbar 
ously  fltfyiiit,'  the  laws  of civilizcil  iiiituMis.  Acrmdiiigly.  Lorl  Kxiimutl) 
waH  st'iil  Willi  ;i  tl(  Ni  the  states  of  H'lrliary,  to  (.'oiiLluiie  a  tn-nty  of 
pe'x'c  ht'lwccii  ilui  ml  the  kiiiifs  of  Naplts  and  Sanliiiia,  to  atM)ll^(^ 
Christian  Hlavury,  p1  to  ohtain  fnnn  tliein  a  [)ruini(*t!  to  ic  .  .  \  iIk;  Hag 
ofthi!  Ionian  iislaiid.s,  wliii-h  liad  lately  heconic  an  indi'iii'i  :m>i.  "oinury. 
'Vhv  1)1  ys  of  Tunis  and  Trijioli  accudcHl  to  all  thoHt;  deniaiKis;  hut  the  dey 
of  Algiers  deiniirrcd,  as  far  aa  rt-Karded  the  aliulition  of  slavery.  Shortly 
after,  iiot\vithslandin<(  this  tr»'aty,  a  eonsidcrabli!  nuinher  of  uiiariiiej 
Christians,  who  liad  landed  at  Hona,  having  been  niassacreil  by  the  Mo- 
hiininiedans.  Lord  llxiiiouth  returned  and  eomnieneed  a  furious  hoinhanl. 
nieiit  of  the  city  of  Algiers,  which  lasted  six  hours  ;  the  eonlest  uas 
severe  ;  eight  hundred  uf  the  assailunis  fell  in  the  action,  and  the  nrilixji 
ships  sulTered  considerahly,  but  the  gallant  admiral  had  the  satisfaction 
of  deniulishiiig  the  Algcrine  batteries,  and  destroying  their  ship()iiijr, 
arsenal,  and  magazine,  while  the  dey  was  forced  to  agree  to  the  ubulition 
uf  Christian  slavery,  and  the  release  uf  all  within  his  dominions. 

Tile  distresses  of  the  labuuring  and  manufacturing  cb-sses,  ami  the  high 
price  of  provisions,  at  length  produced  serious  disturbances  in  various 
parts  uf  I']iigland.  Tlu^  inalcuntents  in  the  eastern  counties  bruke  uut 
iiitu  open  violence,  and  were  not  suppressed  without  the  assistance  of  the 
military.  In  London  similar  attempts  were  made.  Mr.  Hunt,  a  popular 
demagogue,  had  uii  the  13ili  of  November  convened  a  public  nie'^liiig  in 
Spa-fi(d(ls,  to  draw  up  a  petition  to  the  regent.  On  the  2d  uf  De*;emb{r 
another  meeting  was  called  to  receive  the  answer  tu  their  petitiun.  VViiiJe 
this  ineoliiig  was  awaiting  the  arrival  uf  Mr.  Hunt,  a  band  uf  desperadoes 
appeared  on  the  ground  with  a  tri-coloured  flag  and  other  banners,  beaded 
by  a  young  man  named  Watson,  whu,  after  using  viulent  language  from  a 
wagon,  proceeded  tuvvards  the  city,  accumpanied  by  a  vast  cruwd  of  the 
populace.  On  arriving  at  Snow-hill  they  plundered  the  shopuf  .Mr.  Heek- 
witii,  a  gunsi  lit!) ,  and  a  persun  named  Piatt,  who  remon.strated  auainst 
the  pruceedhij),  w.is  shot  at  and  wounded  by  young  Watson.  They  then 
hurried  on  U>H;vr.ii  the  Ruyal-exchange,  where  they  were  met  by  a  ijudy 
of  the  \)\A:<-\  lieafled  by  Mayor  Wuod,  who  ordered  the  gates  to  be  shut, 
ani  seized  "ovcnil  who  had  arms.  The  mob  plundered  some  mure  ^uii- 
smiths'  shupb  w  the  Minories,  but  the  military  coming  to  the  aid  of  the 
civil  power,  several  of  the  rioters  were  apprehended,  and  the  remainder 
dispersed.  One,  named  Cashman,  suffered  capital  punishment,  but  the 
ringleader  contrived  to  effect  his  escape  to  America,  although  a  large  re- 
ward was  offered  for  his  apprehension. 

A.  D.  1817. — In  the  regent's  speech  at  the  opening  of  parliament,  allusioa 
was  made  to  the  popular  discontents,  which  he  ascribed  to  the  efforts  of 
designing  persons  to  mislead  the  people.  On  his  return  through  Hi. 
James'  park  an  immense  mob  had  assembled,  who  saluted  him  with 
groans  and  hisses,  and  as  he  passed  the  back  of  Carlton-house  the  gias8 
uf  the  royal  carriage  was  perforated  either  by  a  stone  or  the  ball  from  an 
air-gun.  To  meet  the  public  exigencies,  his  royal  highness  soon  after 
surrendered  fifty  thousand  pounds  per  annum  of  liis  income.  This  ex- 
ample was  followed  by  the  marquis  Camden,  who  patriotically  gave  up 
the  fees  of  the  tellership  of  the  exchequer,  valued  at  thirteen  thousand 
pounds  per  annum,  reserving  only  the  salary  of  two  thousand  seven  hun- 
dred pounds.  Alas!  the  nuijle  marquis  had  no  imitators  ;  but  thuuyh  his 
generuus  example  was  not  followed,  the  deed  will  not  be  wholly  ob- 
literated from  his  country's  annals, 

A  melancholy  event  now  occurred.  The  princess  Charlotte,  daughter 
of  the  regent  and  consort  of  t'rince  Leopold,  expired  on  the  5th  ol  No- 
vember, after  having  given  birth  to  a  dead  child.  The  iintiinely  fate  of 
this  aiuiublc  princess  caused  a  regret  which  was  universally  expressed. 


of  ground  calle 


THK  TnKASI'HY  OF    FIISTOllY 


71T 


>y  coimuission. 

TPen  ministers 

'  •  alnise  of 

imc  ineot- 

oniitry,  for 

:li«  sessions 

II    writs  issued 


Her  iiiiotsti'iilatioiis  mid  frank  ilrnu'anoiir,  her  •luniestic  vtrriirs  nvd  Im<- 
nt'Vtilent  ilis|i(isiti()n,  had  inspired  the  |)eii|ih-  with  a  hi^di  iMi  i  of  her  worth, 
and  they  fondly  aiilici|i;ite(i  that  nnder  her  iiiispices  the  ^jlory  ,in<\  proM- 
pcrily  ol'  Kntddiui  woiil     afiain  hecome  respleiideiit. 

'I'here  is  lilth'  t^l^e  ni  ii  doinesiic  nature  to  remrd  this  year,  if  wr  exeppt 
the  three  days'  trial  ot  WiJli.mi  Hone,  liie  [laroiii^l,  wlm  was  arr.iiKiied  ujioi) 
criminal  inforniatioii  as  a  profane  lifii  iU'r  of  parts  of  the  liturgy,  tie  wan 
tried  hy  Lord  Klleiihoroiinh  and  Mr.  Jiisiice  Aitholt ;  and  having  eondiicted 
his  defence  with  umisnal  iiiRennily  and  jH'rsr'veranee,  he  not  only  came 
off  victor,  hut  uetually  pocketed  the  siun  of  three  thousand  piMinds,  the 
amount  of  a  pui)lic  suhseription,  raised  to  reinnnerute  hiin  for  haviiij^r  un- 
dergone the  perils  of  a  Kovernment  piosecntioii,  or  u  i  reward  for  the 
lauiialile  intention  of  hriniiiiiff  into  contempt  both  ehureh  and  state  ! 

A.  D.   181H. — The   pailiainenlary  session  was       •'<>    ■ 
The  haheas  corpus  act  was  restored,  and  a  hill  p 
from  liie  lejral  [)enalties  they  might  have  incurr 
ihnr  power  during  the  lime  of  its  susjiension.  n 

ir^s  were  ludd  in  nearly  every  populous  town  llin 
the  purpose  of  peliticuiinif  for  parliamentary  reform, 
closed  on  the  10th  of.luiie,  the  parliament  was  dissolved, 
for  new  elections.  All  the  niinistorial  candidates  in  the  city  of  London 
were  thrown  out,  and  Sir  Samuel  Roinilly  and  Sir  Francis  IJiirdetl  were 
relumed  for  VVeslininster;  hut  in  the  country  the  elections  |)assc(i  off 
quietly,  aiul  little  change  was  produced  in  the  parliaincuitary  majority  of 
ministers. 

Queen  Charlotte,  who  had  hcen  some  time  indisposed,  expired  at  Kcw, 
111  the  75th  year  of  lier  age,  and  the  58th  of  her  marriage  with  the  king. 
Owing  to  her  exemplary  conduct  the  court  of  England  was  pre-eminent 
for  its  strict  decorum. 

The  year  1818  was  f' rtilc  in  royal  marriages;  tlie  piincess  Elizabeth 
was  married  to  the  prince  of  Hesse  Homherg;  fh'  duke  of  Clarence  to 
the  princess  of  Meinengen;  the  duke  of  Kent  to  the  princess  dowager 
Leiiiengen,  sister  to  Prince  Leopold;  and  the  duke  of  Cambridge  to  the 
princess  of  Hesse  Cassel. 

The  British  army  returned  from  France,  which  they  had  lately  occupied, 
Hccording  to  the  stipulations  of  the  treaty  at  the  restoration  of  Louis 
XVHI.  Towards  the  close  of  the  year  the  expedition  which  had  been 
sent  to  explore  the  arctic  regions  also  returned  to  England,  but  without 
acconiplishing  their  object — the  progress  of  the  vessels  having  been  so 
impeded  by  the  ice. 

A.  D.  1819. — The  country  was  still  pregnant  with  disaffection,  and  the 
doctrine  of  annual  parliaments  and  universal  suffrage  was  advocated  by 
demagogues  as  the  only  remedy  for  a  corrupt  state  of  the  representation. 
At  length  the  meetings  assumed  a  very  serious  aspect;  one  of  which, 
from  its  being  attended  with  fatal  consequences,  and  having  given  rise 
to  much  subsequent  discussion,  it  is  necessary  to  describe.  This  was 
the  "Manchester  reform  mectiiio."  it  was  originally  convened  for  the 
choice  of  a  parliamentary  representative,  and  had  been  fixed  to  take 
place  oil  the  4th  of  August;  but  in  consequence  of  a  spirited  notice  put 
forth  by  the  magistrates,  declaring  that  the  intended  meeting  was  illegal, 
it  was  postponed,  and  hopes  were  entertained  that  it  would  ultimately  liave 
been  abandoned.  However,  new  placards  were  issued  for  the  16th,  and 
"parliamentary  reform"  was  substituted  for  the  original  object.  A  piece 
of  ground  called  St.  Peter's  field  w;is  the  spot  chosen  for  this  exliibition; 
and  hither  large  bodies  of  men,  arrayed  in  regular  order,  continued  to 
mareli  during  the  whole  of  the  morning,  tin.  neighbouring  towns  and 
villages  pouring  out  their  multitudes  ;or  the  purpos(!  of  centering  in  this 
focus  of  radical  discontent       Each  party  had  its   bamier,  with  some 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


<^^;^7 


1.0 


I.I 


I^MM    |2.5 


IL25  i  1.4 


1.6 


V] 


vl 


/ 


^^^V 

*>.^* 

^ 


Photographic 

Sdences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


m 


i\ 


o 


m 


^.3} 


'%'■ 


iV 


^ 


718 


TllK   rUliASCRY  OF  HISTORY. 


moUo  theieoii  inscribed,  characteristic  of  the  grand  object  they  had  m 
veiw,  mottoes  which  have  since  become  familiar  even  to  ears  polite— such 
as  "  No  Corn  Laws,"  "  Annual  Parliaments,"  "  Vote  by  Ballot,"  "  Liberty 
or  Death,"'  &c.  Nay,  such  was  the  entliusiasm  of  the  hour  that  among 
them  were  seen  two  clubs  of  "  female  reformers,"  their  white  flags  float- 
ing  in  the  breeze.  At  ihe  time  xMr.  Hunt  took  the  chair  not  less 
than  fifty  thousand  persons— men,  women,  and  children — had  as 
sembled,  and  while  he  was  addressing  his  audience,  a  body  of  the  Man- 
chester yeomanry  cavalry  came  in  sight,  and  directly  galloped  up  to  the 
hustings,  seizing  the  orator,  together  with  his  companions  and  their  ban- 
ners. A  dreadful  scene  of  terror  and  confusion  ensued,  numbers  being 
trampled  under  the  horses'  feet,  or  cut  down.  Six  persons  were  killed, 
and  about  a  hundred  wounded.  Coroners'  inquests  were  held  on  the 
dead  bodies,  but  the  verdicts  of  the  juries  led  to  no  judicial  proceeding ; 
true  bills,  however,  were  iound  against  Hunt,  Moorhouse,  Johnson,  and 
seven  others,  for  a  conspiracy  to  overturn  the  government,  but  at  the 
same  time  they  were  admitted  to  bail. 

Public  meetings  were  now  held  in  all  the  principal  towns  m  the  king- 
dom, and  addresses  were  presented  to  the  regent  and  the  parliamen*t, 
condemnatory  of  the  civil  and  military  authorities  at  Manchester,  which 
were  met  by  counter-addresses,  calling  for  the  repression  of  sedition,  &c. 
At  the  opening  of  parliament  the  subject  underwent  a  thorough  discussion, 
aiid  anjendments  to  the  address  were  moved  in  both  houses,  character- 
ising the  Manchester  proceedings  as  unconstitutional ;  they  were,  how- 
ever, negatived  by  overwhelming  majorities.  At  the  same  time  strong 
measures  were  resorted  to  for  preventing  the  occurrence  of  similar  dis- 
orders, by  passing  certain  preventive  and  prohibitory  acts  of  parliament, 
afterwards  familiarly  known  as  the  "  six  acts."  These,  though  decidedly 
coercive,  seemed  called  for  by  the  state  of  the  country,  and  received  the 
ready  sanction  of  the  legislature. 

On  the  23d  of  January,  1820,  died  at  Sidmouth,  in  his  63d  year,  Prince 
Edward,  duke  of  Kent;  leaving  a  widow,  and  one  child,  the  Princess 
Victoria,  then  only  eight  months  old.  The  duke  had  never  mixed  much 
in  the  turmoil  of  politics,  his  life  having  been  chiefly  spent  in  the  army, 
where  he  obtained  a  high  character  for  bravery,  but  was  regarded  as  a  too 
strict  disciplinarian. 

Scarcely  had  the  news  of  the  duke's  decease  reached  the  more  distant 
parts  of  Great  Britain,  before  the  death-knell  of  his  venerable  father, 
George  IIL,  was  heard.  The  bodily  health  of  his  majesty  had  of  late  been 
fast  declining,  and  on  the  29th  of  January  he  expired.  Some  lucid  in- 
tervals, though  few,  had  been  noticed  during  the  time  he  laboured  under  his 
distressing  malady;  but  he  had  long  been  blind,  and  latterly  deafness  was 
added  to  his  other  afflictions.  The  king  was  in  the  82d  year  of  his  age, 
and  the  6()th  of  his  reign  ;  leaving  six  sons  and  four  daughters  living  at  the 
timp  of  his  decease.  His  remains  were  interred  in  the  royal  vault 
at  Windsor. 

In  speaking  of  the  character  of  George  the  Third,  no  one  will  deny 
that  he  appeared  invariably  to  act  up  to  the  dictates  of  his  conscience ;  as 
a  monarch,  he  studied  the  welfare  of  his  subjects;  as  a  father,  he  neglect- 
ed not  the  honour  and  happiness  of  his  children.  He  left  a  name  unsullied 
by  any  particular  vice,  and  his  memory  will  be  honoured  by  posterity 
for  the  goodness  of  his  heart,  for  his  piety,  clemency,  and  fortitude. 


THh  TllEASUttY  OF  HISTOKY.  71!> 


CHAPTKIt  LXIV. 

THK    RKIOIf    OF   OCOROE    IV. 

A.  D.  1B20. — George  llie  Fourtli,  eldest  son  of  the  late  venerable  mon' 
arch,  who  had  exercised  sover;Mgn  power  as  regent  dumig  his  royal  fath- 
er's mental  incapacity,  was  immediately  proclaimed  king,  and  the  new 
roign  commenced  without  any  expectation  of  official  changes.  At  the 
very  moment  of  his  accession,  and  for  some  time  before,  a  most  atrocious 
conspiracy  existed,  having  for  its  object  the  assassination  of  the  whole  of 
his  majesty's  ministers.  The  sanguinary  intentions  of  the  conspirators 
render  a  detail  of  their  plans  necessary. 

Several  wretched  individuals,  headed  by  Arthur  Thistlewood — a  man 
who  had  formerly  been  a  lieutenant  in  the  army,  but  who  had  subsequently 
suffered  fine  and  imprisonment  for  challenging  Lord  Sidmouth  to  fight  a 
duel,  and  was  now  reduced  to  indigence — hired  a  stable  in  Cato-slreet, 
Edge  ware  road,  for  the  express  purpose  of  assembling  there  and  consult- 
ing on  the  best  plan  of  putting  tlie  design  into  execution.     The  time 
chosen  for  the  commission  of  the  bloody  deed  was  on  the  occasion  of  a 
cabinet-dinner  at  Lord  Harrowby's,  in  Grosvenor-square;  they  intended 
to  proceed  in  a  body  to  his  lordship's  house,  and,  having  gained  admission 
by  stratagem,  murder  all  present. '  Acting  on  previous  information  from 
one  of  the  conspirators,  who  had  associated  with  tliem  for  the  purpose  of 
their  betrayal,  Mr.  Birnie,  a  Bow-street  magistrate,  with  twelve  of  the 
patrol,  went  to  Cato-street,  and  there,  in  a  hayUMt,  they  found  the  con- 
spirators assembled.    The  entrance  was  by  a  ladder,  which  some  of  the 
police  officers  ascended,  and  on  the  door  being  opened,  twenty-five  or 
thirty  men  appeared  armed.    A  desperate  struggle  ensued  iu  the  dark,  the 
lights  having  been  extinguished,  and  Smithers,  one  of  the  police,  was  run 
through  the  body  by  Ttiistlewood :  meantime,  a  comjiany  of  the  foot 
gu;irds,  commanded  by  Captain  Fitzdarence,  arrived  at  the  place  of  ren- 
dezvous, which  they  surrounded,  and  succeeded  in  capturing  nine  of  the 
desperadoes.     Thistlewood  and  the  rest  escaped;  but  he  was  afterwards 
taken  in  an  obscure  lodging  at  Finsbury,  while  in  bed.    They  were  all 
found  guilty;  and  five  of  them,  namely,  Thistlewood,  Ings,  Brunt,  Tidd, 
and  Davidson,  were  hanged  and  then  decapitated  at  the  Old  Bailey  ;  the 
other  five  had  their  sentences  commuted  for  transportation.     About  the 
same  time  the  trial  of  Hunt  and  others  took  place  at  York,  for  their  con- 
duct at  Manchester  on  the  16th  of  August ;  Hunt  was  sentenced  to  be  im- 
prisoned in   Ilchester  jail  for  two   years  and  six  months,  and  Healy, 
Johnson,  and  Bamford  to  one  year's  imprisonment  in  Lincoln  jail. 

The  country  had  been  in  a  very  unsettled  state  in  lonsequence  of  the 
foregoing  proceedings,  but  they  were  treated  as  tr  atters  of  little  impor- 
tance when  compared  with  a  scene  that  followed  :  we  mean  the  trial  of 
Queen  Caroline.    Her  majesty  had  been  six  years  absent  from  Kngland, 
and  for  tlie  last  twenty-three  years  slie  had  been  separated  from  her  hus- 
band.   She  had  been  charged  with  connubial  infidelity,  and  a  rigid  inves- 
tiirnlion  into  her  conduct  had  taken  place;  but  though  an  undignified  levity 
liiid  been  proved  against  her,  the  charge  of  criminality  was  not  established; 
yet  was  she  visited  with  a  kind  of  vindictive  persecution  that  rendered 
liiT  life  a  burden.    The  prince  had  declared  he  would  not  meet  her  in 
public  or  in  private ;  and  among  the  magnates  of  rank  and  fashion  his 
iiialliema  operated  with  talismanic  power ;  she  was  consequently  put  out 
)1"  the  pale  of  society,  of  which  she  had  been  described  to  be  "  the  grace, 
ifi',  and  ornament."    Thus  neglected  and  insulted,  she  sought  for  recrea- 
lion  and  repose  in  foreign  travel ;  and  during  her  abseui-e  rumour  was 
nisy  at  home  in  attributing  to  her  amours  df  tlie  most  degrading  kind.     1'. 
vas  currently  reported  that  the  princess  nf  Wales  was  living  in  adiilii-rv 


720 


TUK  THKAbUttY  OK  HlSTOltV. 


with  an  Ttalinii  immcd  Bergami,  wlioni,  from  the  menial  station  ot  a 
courier,  she  liad  crcHtcd  iitr  chamberlain,  and  familiarly  admitted  to  her 
table.  To  elicit  evidence  and  investjirnte  the  truth  of  these  reports,  a 
commission  had  been  appointed  under  the  direction  of  Sir  John  Leach, 
who  proceeded  for  that  purpose  to  the  continent ;  and  the  result  of  his  in. 
quiries  was,  that  tlie  Englisli  ministers  abroad  were  not  to  give  the  prin- 
cess, in  their  ofTicial  character,  any  public  recognition,  or  pay  her  the  re* 
spcct  due  to  her  exalted  station. 

On  the  deatii  of  George  III.  the  first  step  taken  to  degrade  her  was  the 
omission  of  her  name  in  the  liturgy ;  but  she  was  now  queen  of  England ; 
and  notwithstanding  an  annuity  of  50,000/.  per  annum  was  oftiered  on  con' 
ditioii  of  her  permanently  residing  abroad,  and  not  assuming,  in  the  event 
of  the  demise  of  the  crown,  the  title  of  queen,  she  indignantly  rejected  the 
proposal,  challenged  the  fullest  inquiry  into  her  conduct,  and  returned  to 
England  on  the  Oih  of  June,  with  a  full  determination  to  face  her  enemi';s. 
She  was  accompanied  by  Alderman  Wood  and  Lady  Hamilton,  and  her 
entry  into  London  was  greeted  with  the  joyful  acclamations  of  assembled 
multitudes. 

The  charges  against  tiie  queen  being  resolutely  persisted  in  by  her  ac- 
cusers, and  herguiU  as  pertinaciously  denied  by  her  defenders,  all  attempts 
at  reconciliation  failed,  and  a  secret  committee  of  the  house  of  lords  pro- 
ceeded to  examine  the  inculpatory  documents  contained  in  the  "green 
bag."    On  the  5th  of  July  Lord  Liverpool  presented  a  bill  of  pains  and 

Kenalties  agaitist  the  queen,  providing  that  her  majesty  be  degraded  from 
er  rank  and  title,  and  her  marriage  with  the  king  dissolved.  The  queen 
protested  against  these  proceedings  at  every  step,  and  was  occasional'y 
present  during  the  examination  of  witnesses.  Meanwhile,  the  excitement 
was  intense.  Guilty  or  not  guilty,  the  public  sympathized  with  her  as  a 
woman  who  had  been  subject  to  systematic  persecution  for  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  carried  on  by  a  man  as  relentless  as  he  was  licentious ;  and  how- 
ever great  her  delinquencies  might  be,  her  persecutor  was  the  last  man  in 
his  dominions  who  could  justify  himself  in  pursuing  the  object  of  his  hate 
with  cruel  vindictiveness.  During  all  this  time  addresses  and  proces- 
sions in  honour  of  the  queen  kept  the  metropolis  in  such  a  ferment  that 
its  mechanics  anc*  artizans  appeared  as  if  engaged  in  a  national  saturnalia. 
Sir  Robert  Gilford,  the  attorney-general,  assisted  by  the  solicitor-general, 
conducted  the  prosecution ;  Mr.  Broughp  '^Tr,  Denman,  and  Dr.  Lush- 
ington,  the  defence.     The  proceedings  h  at  length  been  brought  to 

a  close,  the  lords  met  on  the  2d  of  Noveu. .-  ,  to  discuss  the  second  read- 
ing of  the  bill  of  degradation.  Some  declared  their  conviction  of  the 
queen's  guilt;  others  as  confidently  asserted  her  innocence;  while  several 
denied  both  the  justice  and  expediency  of  the  bill,  and  would  not  consent 
to  brand  with  everlasting  infamy  a  member  of  the  house  of  Brunswick. 
Upon  a  division  for  a  secon'i  reading  there  was  a  majority  of  23.  Some 
were  in  favour  of  degradation,  but  not  divorce.  Upon  the  third  reading 
of  the  bill,  the  ministerial  majority  was  reduced  to  9 ;  when  Lord  Liver- 
pool immediately  announced  the  intention  of  government  to  abandon  the 
further  prosecution  of  this  extraordinary  proceeding.  The  filthy  details, 
as  they  fell  from  the  lips  of  well-paid  Italians,  couriers,  valets,  and  cham- 
bermaids, while  under  examination,  were  given  with  prurient  comments 
in  the  newspapci-s ;  and  thus  a  mass  of  impurity  was  circulated  through- 
out the  country,  more  contaminating,  because  more  minutely  discussed 
and  dwelt  upon,  than  anything  that  was  ever  publicly  recorded  in  the 
chronicles  of  shamelessness.  On  the  23d  the  parliament  was  suddenly 
prorogued  ;  and  on  the  29th  the  queen,  attended  by  a  cavalcade  of  gentle 
men  on  horseback,  went  in  stale  to  St.  Paul's  to  return  thanks  for  hei 
^appy  deliverance. 
4  D.  1821.— On  opening  the  pailiamoiitary  session,  his  majesty  meu- 


THB  TttBASUHY  OF  HISTORY. 


m 


tioned  the  queen  by  name,  and  recommended  to  the  house  of  cominons  a 
provision  for  her  maintenance.  At  first  she  declined  t(»  accent  any  pecu* 
niary  allowance  until  her  name  was  inserted  in  the  liturgy ;  but  she  8ub< 
sequently  altered  her  determination,  and  an  annuity  of  50,000/.  was  settled 
upon  her. 

During  this  session  the  subject  of  parliamentary  reform  excited  much 
interest ;  ihe  boruugli  of  Grampound  was  disfranchised  for  its  corruption; 
and  the  necessity  of  retrenchment  in  all  the  departments  of  government 
was  repeatedly  urged  by  Mr.  Hume,  whose  persevering  exposition  of  the 
lar^e  sums  that  were  uselessly  swallowed  up  in  salaries  and  sinecures 
made  a  great  impression  on  ihe  public,  and  though  none  of  his  motions 
were  curried,  the  attention  of  ministers  was  thereby  directed  to  the  gradual 
diminution  of  the  enormous  expense  incurred  in  the  different  public  offices. 

The  anticipated  coronation  was  now  the  all-absorbing  topic.  The 
queen  having,  by  memorial  to  the  king,  claimed  u  right  to  be  crowned, 
her  counsel  were  heard  in  support  of  her  claim,  and  the  attorney  and 
solicitor-general  agninst  it.  Tiie  lords  of  the  council  decided  that  queens- 
consort  were  not  enttiled  to  the  honour — a  decision  which  the  king  was 
pleased  to  approve.  The  19th  of  July  was  the  day  appointed  for  the  august 
ceremony,  preparations  for  which  had  long  been  making;  and  nothing 
more  magnificent  can  be  imagined  than  the  appearance  of  Westminster- 
abbey  and  hall.  The  covered  platform,  over  which  the  procession  moved 
from  the  hall  to  the  abbey  was  1,500  feet  in  length ;  and  on  each  side  of 
the  platform  an  amphitheatre  of  seats  was  erected,  to  accommodate  one 
hundred  thousand  spectators.  Every  spot  in  the  vicinity  from  which  a 
view  of  the  gorgeous  pageant  could  be  obtained  was  covered  with  seats 
and  galleries,  for  which  the  most  extravagant  prices  were  given.  As 
early  as  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  streets  were  filled  with  the  car- 
riages of  persons  going  to  witness  the  ceremony ;  and  before  five  a  con- 
siderable  number  of  the  company  had  taken  their  places  at  the  hall.  It 
had  been  currently  reported  that  the  queen  would  be  present  as  a  specta- 
tor of  the  scene ;  and  so  it  proved ;  for  about  five  o'clock  her  majesty 
arri"ed  in  her  state-carriage  ;  but  no  preparation  had  been  made  for  her 
reception,  and,  not  having  an  admission-ticket,  she  had  to  bear  the  hu- 
miliating indignity  of  a  stern  refusal,  and  was  obliged  to  retire !  The 
king  arrived  at  ten,  and  the  procession  moved  from  the  hall  towards  the 
abbey,  his  majesty  walking  under  a  canopy  of  cloth  of  gold,  supported  by 
the  barons  of  the  cinque-ports,  among  whom  was  Mr.  Brougham,  the 
queen's  legal  adviser  and  leading  counsel !  The  ancient  solemnity  of  the 
coronation  in  Westminster-abbey  occupied  about  five  hours ;  and  when 
the  king  re-entered  the  hall,  with  the  crown  on  his  head,  he  was  received 
with  enthusiastic  cheers.  Soon  after  five  o'clock  the  royal  banquet  was 
served ;  and  the  king,  having  dined  with  and  drank  the  health  of  "  his 
peers  and  his  good  people,"  left  the  festive  scene.  The  populace  were 
afterwards  gratified  with  a  balloon  ascent,  boat-races  on  the  Serpentine, 
a  grand  display  of  fire-works  in  Hyde-park,  and  free  admission  to  the 
various  theatres.  The  expenses  of  the  coronation  amounted  to  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty-eight  thousand  pounds. 

It  has  been  seen  that  the  queen  made  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  witness 
the  coronation  of  her  royal  husband.  The  proud  spirit  of  the  house  of 
Brunswick,  which  had  borne  up  against  a  load  of  regal  oppression  and  the 
contumely  of  sycophantic  courtiers,  was  now  doomed  to  yield  before  a 
plight  bodily  attack.  Eleven  days  after  her  majesty  had  been  repulsed 
from  the  doors  of  Westminster-hall,  she  visited  Driiry-lane  theatre,  from 
which  place  she  retired  early  on  account  of  a  sudden  indisposition,  and 
in  one  week  more  this  heroic  female  was  a  corpse  As  long  as  she  was 
tn  object  of  persecution,  she  was  the  idol  of  popular  applause ;  those  even 
who  did  not  account  her  blameless,  felt  for  her  as  the  victim  of  a  heart 
Vol.  I.— 46 


799 


THE  TEEASUUY  OF  HISTORY. 


less  system  of  oppression.  But  the  excitement  in  her  fiivoiir  suuii  ocgan 
to  subside,  and  it  was  believed  that  the  cumparativeiy  httic  interest  which 
the  public  seemed  to  take  in  her  favonron  the  day  of  the  coionatio  .  gnnit 
deep  into  her  heart.  She  died  August  tlie  7th,  aged  52 ;  leaving  the  world, 
as  she  herself  declared,  without  regret.  Her  body  lay  in  stale  ai  Uran- 
denburg-house,  her  villa  near  Hammersmith;  and  on  the  l[)ih,  it  wasco'v 
veyed  through  London,  on  its  way  to  Harwich,  the  port  of  embarkatiOii 
for  its  final  resting-place  at  Brunswick.  Countless  multitudes  had  a«' 
sembled  to  join  in  the  procession;  and  when  it  was  discovered  that  a  cir- 
cuitous route  had  been  prescribed  for  the  funeral  train,  in  order  to  avoid 
Eassing  through  the  streets  of  the  metropolis,  the  indignation  of  the  people 
new  no  bounds,  and  in  an  affray  with  the  guards  two  lives  were  lost" 
By  obstructing  and  barricading  the  streets  the  people  succeeded  in  forcing 
the  procession  through  the  city,  and  the  royal  corpse  was  hurried  with 
indecent  haste  to  the  place  of  embarkation.  On  the  24th  oi  August  the 
remains  of  the  queen  reached  Brunswick,  and  were  deposited  in  the 
family  vault  of  her  ancestors. 

We  shall  now  turn  for  a  moment  to  notice  some  events  of  importance, 
though  not  connected  with  the  domestic  history  of  Great  Britain.  The 
first  is  the  death  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  who  died  of  cancer  in  the  stomach, 
aged  51.  The  disease  was  constitutional,  but  it  had  probably  been  accel- 
erated by  mental  agitation  and  the  unhealthy  climate  of  St.  Helena. 
Those  who  wish  to  know  the  character  of  this  extraordinary  man  must 
read  it  in  his  actions,  under  the  various  and  varying  aspects  of  his  fortune. 
His  aim  was  to  astonish  and  aggrandize,  to  uphold  or  trample  upon  jus* 
tice,  as  best  suited  the  object  he  had  in  view.  Before  his  love  of  univei- 
sal  domination,  every  other  passion  and  principle  was  made  to  give  way : 
religion,  honour,  truth — all  were  sacrificed  to  personal  ambition.  In  his 
will  he  expressed  a  wish  that  his  "  ashes  might  repose  on  the  banks  of  the 
Seine,  in  the  midst  of  the  French  people,  whom  he  loved  so  well."  Tliat 
wish  has  since  been  gratified. 

In  Spain,  Portugal,  and  Naples,  a  sort  of  revolutionary  crisis  had  com- 
menced. Encouraged  by  the  discontents  of  the  middle  ranks,  the  troops, 
under  the  influence  of  Riego  and  other  gallant  officers,  succeeded  in 
making  Ferdinand  swear  fidelity  to  the  constitution  of  1812.  Similar 
conduct  was  pursued  by  the  people  of  Portugal,  whose  declared  objects 
w:;re  the  establishment  of  a  constitutional  monarchy.  And  in  Naples  the 
populai'  mind  took  the  same  direction,  and  effected  the  same  object. 

A.  D.  1822. — This  year,  though  not  marked  by  any  great  event,  was  one 
of  interest  as  regarded  important  questions  in  parliament.  Amonsr  the 
leading,  were  agricultural  distress  in  England,  and  scarcity  and  distress 
in  Ireland.  Some  changes  during  .lanuary  took  place  in  tha  cabinet ; 
ministers  strengthened  themselves  by  a  union  with  the  Grenville  party; 
and  Lord  Sid  mouth  retired  from  his  office  of  home  secretary,  to  make 
room  for  Mr.  Peel. 

On  the  5th  of  February  the  king  opened  parliament,  and  took  occasion 
to  express  regret  that  his  visit  to  Ireland  had  failed  to  produce  tranquillity. 
He  also  admitted  that  agriculture  had  to  contend  with  unexpected  diffi- 
culties, but  congratulated  the  house  on  the  prosperity  which  attended 
the  manufactures  and  commerce  of  the  country. 

The  state  of  Ireland  did  indeed  demand  attention.  On  one  hand,  coer- 
cive measures  were  necessary  to  repress  the  disorder  that  reigned  tliroiifrh 
the  island,  for,  owing  to  the  daring  nocturnal  bands  of  White  boys,  &c., 
neither  life  nor  property  was  safe.  On  the  other,  so  universal  wss  the 
failure  of  the  potato  crop  that  the  price  was  quadrupled,  and  the  peas 
antry  of  the  south  were  in  a  state  of  starvation.  To  meet  the  former 
evil,  it  was  found  necessary  to  suspend  the  habeas  corpus  act,  and  to 
renew  the  insurrection  act.    To  alleviate  the  latter,  a  committee  waii 


THE  THBA8URY  CF  Hlc^TOUY. 


rM 


(ormed  in  London,  and  corresponding;  committees  in  diflerent  parts  of  thr 
country;  British  sympathy  was  no  sooner  appealed  to  than  it  wan 
answered  with  zealous  alacrity ;  and  such  was  the  hencvolence  of  indi- 
viduals that  large  funds  were  speedily  at  their  disposal,  so  that  before  the 
close  of  the  year  the  subscriptions  raised  in  Great  Britain  for  the  relief 
of  the  distressed  Irish  amounted  to  350,000/. ;  parliament  made  ■  grant  of 
300,000/.  more;  and  in  Ireland  the  local  subscriptions  amounted  to  150,. 
000/. ;  making  altogether  a  grand  total  of  800,090/. 

From  the  beginning  of  the  year  to  the  end  of  the  session  in  August,  the 
houses  were  occupied  on  questions  of  the  highest  importance ;  agricul- 
tural distress,  for  which  various  remedial  measures  were  proposed;  Lord 
John  Russeirs  plan  for  a  parliamentary  reform ;  Mr.  Vansittart's  scheme 
for  relieving  the  immediate  pressure  of  what  was  called  the  ♦'  dead  weight ;" 
the  currency  question,  which  referred  to  the  increased  value  of  money 
caused  by  Mr.  Peel's  act  of  1819,  for  the  resumption  of  cash  payments: 
the  improvement  of  the  navigation  laws,  ice. 

Pailianient  was  prorogued  on  the  6th  of  August,  and  on  the  tenth  the 
king  embarked  at  Greenwich  for  Scotland.  On  the  15th  he  landed  r.t 
Leilh,  and  the  19th  held  a  levee  in  the  ancient  palace  of  Holyrood,  where 
he  appeared  in  the  Highland  costume.  Having  enjoyed  the  festivities 
which  his  loyal  subjects  of  Edinburgh  provided  for  the  occasion,  he  re- 
embarked  on  the  27th,  and  in  three  days  was  again  with  his  lieges  in 
London. 

During  his  majesty's  absence  intelligence  was  brought  him  of  the  death 
of  the  marquis  of  Londonderry,  secretary  of  state  for  the  foreign  depart* 
ment.  This  nobleman,  who  had  been  the  leading  member  of  government, 
was  in  his  54th  year,  and  in  a  temporary  fit  of  insanity  committed  suicide, 
by  cutting  the  carotid  artery.  In  consequence  of  his  tory  principles  and 
the  share  he  took  in  effecting  the  union  with  Ireland,  he  was  the  most 
unpopular  member  of  the  administration,  but  he  was  highly  respected  in 
private  life,  and  enjoyed  the  personal  esteem  of  his  sovereign. 

Little  of  domestic  interest  occurred  this  year,  but  a  few  words  relative 
to  foreign  afTairs  are  requisite.  The  congress  at  Verona  terminated  in 
December;  the  allied  sovereigns  were  disposed  to  re-establish  the  despo- 
tism of  Ferdinand  in  Spain,  in  opposition  to  the  cortes  ;  but  to  this  policy 
England  objected,  denying  the  right  of  foreign  powers  to  interfere  in  the 
affairs  of  the  Peninsula.  The  "sanitary  cordon,"  established  on  the 
frontiers  of  France  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  preventing  the  fever  which 
raged  at  Barcelona  from  spreading  to  that  country,  changed  its  name 
to  "army  of  observation,"  while  the  design  of  the  French  govern- 
ment to  check  the  progress  of  revolutionary  principles  in  Spain  were 
developed,  and,  indeed,  soon  afterwards  openly  expressed. 

A.  D.  1823. — On  the  death  of  Lord  Londonderry,  Mr.  Canning,  who  was 
about  to  set  out  to  India  as  governor-general,  relinquished  that  employ- 
me'-.c,  and  accepted  the  vacant  secretaryship,  as  one  more  congenial  to  his 
taste,  and  for  the  duties  of  which  he  was  supposed  to  be  perfectly  efficient. 
Some  popular  changes  now  took  place  in  the  ministry.  Mr.  Vansittart, 
chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  resigned  in  favour  of  Mr.  Robinson,  and  ac- 
cepted the  chancellorship  of  the  duchy  of  Lancaster,  with  a  seat  in  the 
upper  house  and  the  title  of  Lord  Bexley ;  and  Mr.  Huskinson  was  made 
president  of  the  board  of  trade,  in  room  of  Mr.  Arbulhnot.  Parliament 
was  prorogued  by  commission  on  the  19th  of  July;  much  altercation 
having  taken  place  between  Mr.  Canning  and  his  political  opponents, 
who  plainly  convinced  him  that  he  was  not  "reposing  on  a  bed  of  roses." 
But  he  had  the  satisfaction  at  the  close  of  the  session  of  dwelling  on  the 
flourishing  condition  of  all  branches  of  commerce  and  manufactures,  and 
a  considerable  abatement  of  the  difficulties  felt  by  the  agriculturists  at  iti 
eommencement. 


724 


THE  TEBA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


In  April  the  French  army  of  observation  crossed  the  Pyrenees :  and  the 
duke  uf  Angoiileine,  its  commander,  published  an  address  lo  the  Spaiiiardi 
declaratory  or  the  objects  or  this  interposition  in  their  affairs ;  d^:fi||i||^  i( 
to  be,  the  suppression  of  the  revolutionary  Taction  which  held  the  kmir 
captive,  that  excited  troubles  in  France,  and  produced  an  insurrection  in 
Naples  and  Piedmont.  They  then  marched  onward,  and,  witliout  meet- 
ing any  resistance  of  consequence,  occupied  the  principal  towns  and  Tur- 
tresses.  In  October  the  city  of  Cadiz  surrendered,  and  French  intcrferi 
ence  terminated  with  the  liberation  of  Ferdinand  from  the  cortcs,  who  ju 
all  their  movements  had  carried  the  unwilling  king  with  them.  The 
French  then  retraced  their  steps,  leaving  forty  thousand  men  in  possessioa 
of^the  fortresses,  to  maintain  the  authority  of  the  Spanish  king  in  case  of 
a  reaction. 

A.  D.  1824.— Favourable  as  the  political  aspect  of  Great  Britain  appeared 
at  the  commencement  of  1823,  the.-e  was  now  an  evident  improvement  in 
almost  every  branch  of  commercial  industry ;  while  the  cultivators  of  the 
soil  found  their  condition  materially  assisted  by  natural  causes,  without 
the  aid  of  legislatorial  interference.  It  was  therefore  a  pleasing  task  for 
Mr.  Robinson,  when  he  brought  forward  iiis  budget,  to  describe  in  glowin? 
terms  the  general  prosperity  of  the  country,  and  declare  his  intention  of 
effecting  an  annual  saving  of  c€375,000  by  reducing  the  interest  of  the  four 

Iter  cent,  stock  to  three  and  a  half.  But  a  course  of  prosperity  in  England, 
ike  true  love's  course,  "  never  did  run  smooth"  for  any  length  of  time! 
There  was  now  an  abundance  of  capital,  and  money  was  accordingly  to 
be  had  at  low  rates  of  interest.  Safe  investments  were  difiicult  to  be 
found  at  home;  hence  foreign  loans  were  encouraged,  till  there  wns 
scarcely  a  state  in  the  Old  or  New  World  which  had  not  the  benefit  of 
English  capital.  It  was  a  rare  era,  too,  for  the  gambling  speculations  of 
a  host  of  needy  adventurers ;  and,  under  pretext  of  having  discovered  aj- 
vantageous  modes  of  employing  money,  the  most  absurd  schemes  were 
dail^  set  afloat  to  entrap  the  avaricious  and  unwary.  Many  of  these 
devices  were  so  obviously  dishonest,  that  the  legislature  at  length  inter- 
fered to  guard  the  public  against  a  species  of  robbery  in  which  the  dupes 
were  almost  as  much  to  blame  as  their  plunderers.  A  resolution  passed 
the  house  of  lords  declaring  that  no  bill  for  the  purpose  of  incorporating 
any  joint-stock  company  would  be  read  a  second  time  till  two-thirds  of 
the  proposed  capital  of  the  company  had  been  subscribed.  This  certainly 
checked  the  operations  we  have  alluded  to ;  but  the  evil  had  been  allowed 
to  proceed  too  far,  as  experience  proved. 

A  convention  between  Great  Britain  and  Austria  was  laid  on  the  tabln 
of  the  house  of  commons,  by  which  the  former  agreed  to  accept  <£2,500,000 
as  a  final  compensation  for  claims  on  the  latter  power,  amounting  to 
d630,000,000 — a  composition  of  one  shilling  and  eight-pence  in  the  pound! 
Among  matters  of^  domestic  interest,  although  not  of  a  nature,  perhaps, 
to  demand  notice  in  a  condensed  national  history,  we  may  mention  two 
occurrences  which  supplied  the  public  with  fertile  topics  of  discourse. 
We  allude  to  the  trial  of  John  Thurtell,  who  was  executed  for  the  murder 
of  William  Weare,  as  they  were  proceeding  in  a  gig  towards  the  cottage 
of  their  mutual  friend  Probert,  near  Elstree,  where  they  had  been  invited 
to  take  the  diversion  of  shooting :  and  also  to  the  execution  of  Mr.  Faunt- 
leroy,  the  banker,  who  was  tried  and  found  guilty  of  forging  a  power  of 
attorney  for  the  transfer  of  stock.  The  first-mentioned  offender  against 
Uie  laws  of  God  and  man  was  the  son  of  a  respectable  alderman  at  Nor- 
wich ;  but  by  associating  with  gamblers,  and  indulging  in  brutal  sports, 
he  had  contracted  habits  of  ruHianism  to  which  such  a  course  of  life  almost 
invariably  leads.  The  latter  violator  of  a  sacred  trust  had  committed 
forgeries  to  the  enormous  extent,  as  was  asserted  at  the  time,  of  about  a 
quarter  of  a  million. 


THE  TRBA8UUV   OF  HldTullY. 


?26 


A.  D.  1825. — One  of  the  first  steps  in  legislation  tins  year  was  an  act  to 
luppress  the  cathnlic  association  of  Ireland.  Daniel  U*(;onnell  assumed 
10  l)e  tlie  representative  and  protector  of  ihe  catholic  population  in  that 
country,  and  continued  to  levy  large  sums  from  the  people,  under  the 
absurd  and  hypocritical  pretence  of  obtaining  "justice  for  Ireland."  Sub- 
seqiieiiily  a  committee  of  the  lords  sat  to  inquire  into  the  general  state  of 
th:it  cdunlry ;  and  in  the  evidence  it  clearly  appeared  that  the  wretched 
state  of  existence  to  which  the  peasantry  were  reduced  was  greatly  aggra- 
va'fod  by  their  abject  bondage  to  their  own  priests,  and  that  while  the  arch 
aguHtor  and  his  satellites  were  allowed  to  inflame  the  passions  of  the 
people,  and  delude  them  into  a  belief  that  they  were  oppressed  by  their 
connexion  with  Great  Britain,  no  remedy  within  the  power  of  Ihe  legisla< 
tare  presented  itself. 

The  catholic  relief  bill  passed  in  the  house  of  commons,  but  was  re- 
jected in  the  lords  by  a  majority  of  178  against  130.  The  debate  was 
carried  on  with  great  animation ;  and,  in  the  course  of  it,  the  duke  of 
York  strenuously  declared  against  further  concession  to  the  catholics. 
"Twenty-eight  years,"  said  he,  "have  elapsed  since  the  subject  was  first 
agitiiied ;  its  agitation  was  the  source  of  the  illness  which  clouded  the 
last  ten  years  of  my  father's  life ;  and,  to  the  last  moment  of  my  existence, 
I  will  adiiere  to  my  protestant  principles— so  help  me  God!" 

We  have  seen  whatan  astonishing  impulse  had  been  given  to  speculations 
of  all  kinds  last  year  by  the  abundance  of  unemployed  capital  and  the  re- 
duction of  interest  ia  funded  property.  The  mania  for  joint-stock  com- 
panies was  now  become  almost  universal.  During  the  space  of  little 
more  than  a  twelvemonth,  two  hundred  and  seventy-six  companies  had 
been  projected,  of  which  the  pretended  capital  was  c£174, 114,050.  Though 
many  of  these  were  of  an  absurd  character,  and  nearly  all  held  out  pros- 
pects that  no  sane  man  could  expect  to  see  realized,  yet  the  shares  of 
several  rose  to  enormous  premiums,  especially  the  mining  adventures  in 
South  America.     But  a  fearful  re-action  was  at  hand. 

Several  country  banks  stopped  payment  in  December,  and  among  them 
the  great  Yorkshire  bank  of  Wenlworth  and  Company.  A  panic  in  the 
money  market  followed  ;  and  in  a  few  days  several  London  bankers  were 
unable  to  meet  the  calls  upon  them.  On  the  12th  December  the  banking- 
house  of  Sir  Peter  Pole  &  Co.,  stopped  payment.  This  caused  great 
dismay  in  the  city,  it  being  understood  that  forty-seven  country  banks 
were  connected  with  it.  During  the  three  following  days  five  other  Lon- 
don banking  firms  were  compelled  to  close ;  and  in  a  very  short  space  of 
tiiTie,  in  addition,  sixty-seven  country  banks  failed  or  suspended  payments. 
The  merchants  of  the  city  of  London,  at  the  head  of  whom  was  Mr.  Bar 
ing,  feeling  that  something  was  necessary  to  restore  ;,)idence,  assembled 
at  the  mansion-house,  and  published  a  resolution  to  tr  s  effect  that  "  the 
unprecedented  embarrassments  were  to  be  irainly  attributed  to  an  un- 
founded panic;  that  they  had  the  fullest  reliance  on  the  banking  estab 
lishnients  of  the  country,  and  therefore  determined  to  support  them,  and 
public  credit,  to  the  utmost  of  their  power." 

In  two  days  after  this  declaration,  the  Bank  of  England  began  to  re-issue 
one  and  two  pound  notes  for  the  convenience  of  the  country  circulation. 
For  one  week,  150,000  sovereigns  per  day  were  coined  at  the  Mint,  sAd 
post-chaises  were  hourly  dispatched  into  the  country  to  support  the  credit, 
and  prevent  the  failure,  of  the  provincial  firms  which  still  maintained 
their  ground. 

A.  D.  1826. — The  effects  of  the  panic  were  severely  felt;  but  it  must  t>e 
admitted  that  the  Bank  of  England  made  strenuous  eff"orts  to  mitigate 
pecuniary  distress,  and  the  course  pursued  by  government  was  steady  and 
ludicious.  The  main  ingredient  in  producing  the  mischief  had  been  the 
facility  of  creating  fictitious  money  ;  ministers,  therefore,  prohibited  the 


:/: 


726 


THK  TUKASIjllY  OF  H18T0EY. 


eirciilutiuii  of  one  poinid  imteit,  while  incorporated  companies  wnn 
•llowed  to  '..-arry  on  lliu  buHuuHH  of  banking.  Beyond  this  ihey  couij 
leureely  go :  it  wan  next  to  imposstible  thai  iTicy  could  aflToid  an  eflTuutive 
guarantee  against  future  panics,  over-trading,  or  the  insolvency  of  bankers 
On  the  3d  of  February  parliament  was  opened  by  conunission.  The 
royal  speech  adverted  to  the  existing  pecuniary  distress,  and  showed  that 
it  was  totally  unconnected  with  political  causes.  It  also  alliidt'd  \^y 
measures  in  contemplation  for  the  improvement  of  Ireland.  After  smino 
till  the  end  of  May,  the  parliament  was  dissolved,  and  active  preparations 
were  made  for  a  general  election. 

Certain  leading  questions  had  now  got  such  possession  of  the  public 
mind,  that,  at  most  of  the  elections,  tests  were  oflfered  and  pledges  re. 
quired  from  the  several  candidates.  The  most  important  of  these  were 
catholic  emancipation,  the  corn  laws,  and  the  slave  trade  :  and  out  of  the 
members  returned  for  England  and  Wales,  one  hundred  and  thirty-three 
had  never  before  sat  in  parliament.  It  was  observed  that  now,  for  the 
first  lime,  the  catholic  priests  of  Ireland  openly  began  not  only  to  take  an 
ictive  part  in  elections,  but  to  inculcate  the  doctrine  that  opposition  to  an 
anti-catholic  candidate  was  a  christian  duty.  The  Knglish  radicals  were 
also  extremely  noisy  and  active  in  their  endeavours  to  return  Cobbett 
Hunt,  and  others  of  that  clique ;  but  for  the  present  they  were  unsuccesHriil! 
The  new  parliament  was  opened  by  the  king  in  person.  No  business 
of  any  great  importance  was  brought  before  the  house ;  hut  an  expose  of 
the  numerous  joint- stock  companies  that  had  been  established  was  made 
Dy  Alderman  Waithman.  He  observed  that  six  hundred  had  been  formed 
most  of  them  for  dishonest  purposes  ;  the  directors  forcing  up  or  deprers- 
mg  the  market  as  they  pleased,  and  pocketing  the  difference  between  the 
selling  and  buying  prices.  As  members  of  the  house  were  known  to  be 
directors  of  some  of  these  bubble  companies,  he  moved  for  a  committee 
of  inquiry  with  reference  to  the  part  taken  by  members  of  parliament  in 
the  joint-stock  mania  of  1824-5-6. 

A  few  foreign  occurrences  claim  our  notice.  The  death  of  Alexander, 
emperor  of  Russia,  a  powerful  ally  of  England,  and  a  noble  and  benevo- 
lent prince,  who  sincerely  desired  the  good  of  his  people.  It  was  his 
wish  that  his  brother  Nicholas  should  succeed  him;  and,  in  compliance 
with  that  wish,  the  grand  duke  Cunstantine,  who  was  next  heir  to  the 
throne,  publicly  renounced  his  right  to  the  succession  in  favour  of  his 
younger  brother. — Also,  the  death  of  John  Vi.,  king  of  Portugal  and 
titular  emperor  of  Brazil ,  whither  he  had  retired,  with  his  court,  on  the 
invasion  of  Portugal  by  Bonaparte. — Missolonghi,  the  last  asylum  of  the 
Greeks,  taken  by  storm,  by  the  combined  Egyptian  and  Turkish  forces, 
who,  rendered  furious  by  the  bravery  of  the  besieged,  put  all  tlie  males  to 
the  sword,  and  carried  the  women  and  children  into  slavery. — The  de- 
struction of  the  Janissaries  by  Sultan  Mahmoud,  followed  by  an  entire  re- 
modelling of  the  Turkish  army,  and  the  introduciion  of  European  military 
discipline. — Remarkable  coincidence  in  the  deaths  of  two  ex-presidents 
of  the  United  States  of  America :  Mr.  Adams  and  Mr.  Jefferson  not  only 
expiring  on  the  same  day,  but  that  day  being  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of 
the  declaration  of  American  independence. 

•a.  d.  1827. — W^  closed  our  last  record  with  a  notice  of  the  deaths  of 
two  distinguished  men  on  trans-Atlantic  ground.  We  are  compelled 
to  commence  the  present  year  with  the  decease  of  an  illustrious  indiviilual 
in  England.  His  royal  highness  Augustus  Frederick,  duke  of  York,  pre 
Bumptive  heir  to  the  throne,  and  commander-in-chief  of  the  army,  at  the 
head  of  which  he  had  been  thirty-two  years,  and  under  whose  adminis- 
tration it  had  won  imperishable  laurels,  died  on  the  5th  of  January,  in  the 
^th  year  of  his  age.    In  person  he  was  noble  and  soldierlike,  in  disposi- 


THE  THRASUaV  Or  HI8TOHY. 


W7 


lioii  frank,  amiable  and  sincere ;  in  the  dischargu  of  hit  official  iuliea,  im* 
partial  and  cxuct. 

The  lirsl  topic  of  domestic  interest  was  the  ehanife  of  ministry,  which 
took  place  in  consequence  of  Lord  Liverpoiil,  the  premier,  being  sud« 
denly  disabled  by  a  stroke  of  apoplexy,  which,  though  he  survived  the 
attack  nearly  two  years,  terminated  his  public  life.  His  lordship  waa 
free  from  intrigue  and  partisanship,  and  his  official  experience  enabled 
iiim  to  take  the  lead  in  conducting  the  ordinary  affairs  of  the  governineni, 
but  his  oratory  was  coinmonplacu,  and  lin  was  incapable  of  vigorously 
handling  the  great  questions  which  durirtg  his  preiniership  agitated  the 
country. 

Nearly  two  months  elapsed  before  the  vacancy  occasioned  by  Lord 
Liverpool's  illness  was  filled.  The  king  then  empowered  Mr.  Canning 
to  form  a  new  ministry,  of  which  he  was  to  be  the  head ;  and  he  accor- 
dingly began  to  make  arrangements.  But  he  met  with  almost  insupera> 
ble  dilHcnlties,  for  within  forty-eight  hours  after  ho  had  received  his  cna- 
jesty's  commands,  seven  leading  members  of  the  cabinet — his  former 
colleagues— refused  to  serve  under  him,  and  sent  in  their  resignations.  In 
this  perplexity  he  waited  on  the  king,  who  suspected  there  waa  not  only 
a  confederacy  against  Mr.  Canning,  but  also  a  disposition  to  coerce  the 
royal  will.  The  king  was  not  likely  to  withdraw  his  support  from  the  rnin- 
'ster,  and  ultimately  a  mixed  administration  entered  on  the  duties  of  office. 
Mr.  Canning,  premier ;  earl  of  Harrowby,  president ;  duke  of  Portland,  privy 
seal ;  Viscount  Dudley,  foreign  secretary ;  Mr.  Sturges  Bourne,  home  sec- 
retary; Mr.  Huskisson,  board  of  trade ;  C.  VVynn,  board  of  control;  Vis- 
count Palinerston,  secretary  of  war ;  Lord  Bexley,  chancellor  of  the  duchy 
of  Lancaster ;  Lord  Lyndhurst,  lord  chancellor.  The  other  ministerial  ap- 
pointments were,  Sir  John  Leach,  master  of  the  rolls ;  Sir  A.  Hart,  vice- 
chancellor  ;  Sir  James  Scarlett,  attorney-general ;  Sir  N.  Tindal,  solicitor- 
general  ;  duke  of  Clarence,  lord-high-:idmiral ;  marquis  of  Anglesea, 
master-general  of  ordnance;  duke  of  Devonshire,  lord-chamberlain;  duke 
of  Leeds,  master  of  the  horse  ;  and  W.  Lamb,  secretary  for  Ireland.  Sub- 
sequently, the  inarouis  of  Lansdowne  accepted  the  seals  of  the  home  de- 
partment, and  Mr.  Tierney  was  made  master  of  the  mint. 

A  treaty  which  had  for  its  object  the  pacification  of  Greece,  by  putting 
an  end  to  the  sanguinary  contest  between  the  Porte  and  its  Qreciaii  sub- 
ieciH,  was  signed  at  London,  on  the  6th  of  July,  by  the  ministers  of  Great 
Britain,  France,  and  Russia. 

From  the  hour  that  Mr.  Canning  undertook  the  office  of  premier  he  had 
been  suffering  under  a  degree  of  nervous  excitement  which  made  visible 
inroads  on  his  constitution ;  but  it  was  expected  that  a  little  repose  during 
the  parliamentary  recess  would  reinvigorate  him.  Not  so,  for  on  the  8lh 
of  August  he  expired,  the  immediate  cause  of  his  death  being  an  inflam- 
mation of  the  kidneys.  This  highly  gifted  statesman,  who  was  in  the 
57th  year  of  hi^  Hp<,,  was  not  less  remarkable  for  scholastic  acquirements, 
than  for  brilliara  oratory  and  pungent  wit ;  weapons  which  he  often  used 
with  success  in  demolishing  the  more  solid  arguments  of  his  opponents. 
In  politics  he  was  a  tory,  though  possessing  the  good  sense  to  avow  and 
act  upon  liberal  principles.  He  was  long  the  efficient  representative  of 
Liverpool,  and  his  constituents  were  proud  of  one  who,  while  he  shone 
in  the  senate,  combined  the  graces  of  scholarship  with  elegant  manners 
and  amiability  of  temper. 

On  the  death  of  Mr.  Canning  there  were  but  few  changes  in  the  minis- 
try. Lord  Goderich  became  the  new  premier,  and  Mr.  Herries  chancellor 
of  the  exchequer;  the  duke  of  Wellington  resumed  the  command  of  the 
army,  but  without  a  seat  in  the  cabinet. 

The  treaty  for  attempting  the  pacification  of  Greece,  not  being  palatable 
to  the  sultan,  he  declined  the  mediation  of  the  allied  powers,  and  recom 


m  THB  TaBAHURY  OF  HISTOKY. 

meiicod  Iho  war  furinuHly  againat  l\\n  Oroukii.  To  put  a  itop  to  ihji,  u,* 
coiiihintul  flrots  proc(!C(t«>(l  to  tlio  buy  of  Nuvariiio,  willi  u  tifteriiiiiiation  lu 
oauturi)  or  destroy  ih«  Turkmh  flevl  which  lay  tliuro,  if  Ibrahim  Hachit 
roru««td  liHtoii  to  paciAc  ovt!rtiiri!ii.  No  natiHrHClioii  hemg  obtained,  Ad- 
miral Oodrington,  followed  by  tho  French  ■liipN,  uiidtir  l)u  Kigny,  hikJ  ^\^^ 
Kusxiuii  Mjuadroii,  entered  thu  bay  ;  and  after  four  hoiirH  from  the  cum. 
meiiceiiieiil  of  the  conflict,  which  had  Inivii  carried  on  with  great  fury,  ihe 
eiieniy'ii  licet  wait  wholly  deatroyud,  and  the  bay  atrewii  with  the  frau. 
mRiita  of  hiH  Hhipa. 

A.  D.  183H. — It  was  aoca  from  the  first,  that  the  (ioderich  iiiiiiistry  did 
not  pt).>«NeHH  the  ingredients  for  a  lnHthi((  union.  DiA'creiices  txttween  the 
leading  membera  rendered  his  lordship's  position  untenable,  .iiid  lie  re* 
signed  his  seals  of  otHce.  Upon  this  the  King  sent  for  the  duke  of  WeU 
lington,  and  coininiHsioiied  hiinto  form  a  new  cabinet,  with  hinmell'at  the 
Mud  ;  the  result  was,  that  his  grace  immediately  entered  into  commum> 
cation  with  Mr.  Peel,  and  other  members  of  L<ird  Liverpool's  nninstry, 
who  had  seceded  on  the  elevation  of  Mr.  (/anniiig;  and,  with  vury  few 
exceptions,  the  same  parties  oii'.:e  more  (;unie  into  power.  The  duke,  uii 
hecoining  the  first  lord  of  the  treasury,  resigned  the  otrico  of  eomniander« 
in-chief. 

On  the  Bth  of  May  the  catholic  claims  were  ag-Un  brought  forward, 
when  Sir  Francis  Uurdett  moved  for  a  committee  of  the  whole  house  on 
this  subject,  with  a  view  to  a  conciliatory  adjustment.  After  a  three 
nights*  debate,  this  was  carried  by  a  majority  of  six.  A  conference  with 
the  lords  was  then  held,  after  which  there  was  a  two  nights'  debute  in  the 
lords,  when  the  duke  of  Wellington  opposed  the  resolution,  and  it  failed. 

In  Ireland,  during  the  Canning  and  Goderich  ministries,  all  was  com* 
paratively  siill ;  but  this  year  the  excitement  of  the  people,  led  on  by  the 

fxipular  (fomagopuen,  was  greatly  increased  by  the  formation  of  a  WeU 
ington  and  Peel  administration.  The  Catholic  Association  was  again 
in  full  a(;tivity ;  Mr.  O'Connell  was  returned  for  Clare,  in  defiance  of  the 
landed  gentry  of  the  county ;  the  priests  seconded  the  efforts  of  itinerant 
politicians,  and,  in  the  inflated  rhetoric  of  Mr.  Sliiel, ''  every  altar  became 
a  triliiine  at  which  the  wrongs  of  Ireland  were  proclaimed."  Meanwhile, 
ministers  looked  supinely  on,  till  the  smouldering  embers  burst  into  a 
flame,  which  nothing  within  their  power  could  extinguish.  How  could  It, 
indeed,  be  otherwise,  when  the  marquis  of  Anglesea,  the  king's  represen- 
tative, wrote  a  letter  to  Dr.  Curtis,  the  titular  catholic  primate  of  Ireland, 
to  the  effect  that  the  settlement  of  the  catholic  question  was  unavoidable, 
and  recommending  the  catholics  to  "agitate,"  but  refrain  from  violence, 
and  trust  to  the  legislature.  What  more  could  the  great  agitator  himself 
require  than  such  an  ally  ?  It  is  true  that  the  marquis  was  forthwith  re- 
called from  the  government  of  Ireland  for  writing  the  said  \ei\,e.r~but  he 
was  not  impeached. 

The  repairs  and  improvements  of  Windsor  castle,  which  had  been  for  a 
long  time  in  hand,  were  this  year  completed,  and  the  king  took  posses- 
sion of  his  apartments,  December  9th.  A  parliamentary  grant  of  450,000/. 
had  been  devoted  to  this  truly  national  edifice,  and  great  ability  was  shown 
in  retaining  the  principal  features  of  the  original  building,  while  studying 
the  conveniences  of  modern  civilization. 

At  the  latter  end  of  the  year,  owing  to  the  discovery  of  a  systematic 
plan  of  murder  having  been  pursued  by  some  wretches  at  t^dinburgli,  an 
indebciinable  feeling  of  horror  and  disgust  pervaded  the  country.  It  ap- 
peared, on  the  trial  of  William  Burko  and  Helen  M'Dougal,  who  lodged 
in  a  house  kept  by  a  nvan  named  Hare,  that  they  had  been  in  the  habit  ul 
decoying  per^ions  into  the  house,  where  they  first  made  them  intoxicated, 
and  then  suffocated  them.  The  bodies  were  then  sold  for  anatomical 
purposes,  and  no  questions  asked  respecting  the  mode  in  which  thev  had 


THIC  TIlKAMiHY  or  lil^TOHY. 


7M 


bei'ii  |rti'  uri'*l'  'I'lio  nuiiilH'r  or  iIm-if  vicliiiin  it  wan  Uidlciilt  lo  iinrortuiii, 
ttiDlii;!)  Iliii')v('<  roiift'HMfil  lo  ii|)\viiiil:i  of  It  (lozt'ii.  Tliiii  wrelcli  wun  i-xc- 
cutrti  amid  iIk^  exiilliiiioiiii  .mil  L>Ncniitii)ti<«  of  ;iii  iiniiKMtH*.'  roiir  jiiri«!  of 
k|ii'ctat(ir»  ;  ami  (Ik-  Hystciii  of  Hlran^iiLiiioii  wliicli  lie  had  pratliiicd  was 
afUTwardt;  known  hy  ilm  it-rm  «tf  liinlnng. 

Tiif  rorci({ii  evciilM  ttf  tliiH  year  bear  too  little  on  KiiKlish  liintory  to 
render  n<(M'<t!4ary  more  than  a  mention  of  tlieni.  In  April  Kimiiia declared 
war  atauiHt  Turkey.  The  (leslnietum  of  the  Turkish  fleet  at  Naviiriiio 
left  the  furmer  power  master!!  of  the  Klaek  Sea;  and  on  land  115,000 
RiiiNiano  were  u-^Hcmbled  to  open  the  cainpai){ii  on  the  Daiinhe.  Several 
great  battles  were  fought,  the  Turks  ofTcnni;  a  much  more  i  ffectual  resis- 
tance to  their  invaders  than  \va»i  ntitieipated  ;  at  length  the  UiissiaiiM  retired 
from  the  contest,  hut  did  not  return  to  St.  INnersihurnh  till  October.  The 
alTaii'H  ot  Greece  had  ({one  on  more  favourably  in  coiiHccpieiice  of  the  war 
between  Turk(>y  and  Uus^ia;  and,  assisted  by  Krniicu  ami  Kn|{land,  that 
country  was  restored  to  the  rank  of  an  independent  nation. 

A.  p.  li3'J0.— Soon  after  the  upeiiiii<{  of  parliament,  ministers  declared 
their  iiitentioii  to  bimg  forward  the  iong-at>;itated  question  of  catholic 
emancipation,  in  order  to  pul  an  end  to  it  forever.  In  Ireland  the  eatholio 
population  was  estimated  at  five  millions  and  a  half,  whereas  not  more 
than  one  million  and  three  quarters  were  protestants;  but  in  Knglaud, 
Scotland,  and  Wales,  the  number  of  catholics  fell  siiort  of  a  million.  It 
was  well  known  that  the  duke  of  VVcllington*s  repu!,'nancc  to  the  measure 
had  been  gradually  abating;  that  he  thought  the  8e(  uri'.y  of  the  empire 
depended  upon  its  being  carried :  and  that  he  had  laboured  hard  to  over- 
come the  king's  serupJes.  These  being  at  length  removed,  Mr.  I'f^el,  in 
a  long,  cautious,  and  elaborate  speech,  introduced  the  "  Catholic  reii.  i  bill" 
into  the  house  of  commons  on  the  5th  of  March.  Its  general  objects  were 
to  render  catholics  eligible  to  seats  in  both  houses  of  parliainent,  to  vote 
at  the  election  of  members,  and  to  enjoy  all  civil  franchises  and  ofHccs, 
upon  their  taking  an  oath  not  to  use  their  privileges  to  "weaken  or  disturb 
the  protestant  establishment."  As  it  was  a  course  of  policy  which  tho 
whigs  advocated,  it  had  their  support;  the  chief  opposition  coining  from 
that  section  of  the  tory  party  who  felt  it  to  be  a  measure  dangerous  to  the 

Erotest;mt  institutions  of  the  country.  The  majority  in  favour  of  the  bill, 
owever,  at  the  third  reading,  was  320  to  142.  In  the  upper  house  a  more 
resolute  stand  vas  made  against  it;  the  lords  Eldon,  Winchelsea,  Tenter- 
den,  and  otb'  -s,  backed  by  the  archbishops  of  Canterbury  and  York,  and 
the  bishop"  of  London,  Durham,  and  Saiishiiry,  in  the  most  solemn  man- 
ner denouncing  it  as  a  measure  pregnant  with  the  most  imminent  peril  to 
church  and  state  as  by  law  establisned.  It  was,  however,  carried  on  the 
lOlh  of  April,  and  received  the  royal  assent  on  the  13th. 

A  few  official  changes  followed.  Sir  Charles  V^  etherell,  attorney-gen- 
eral, was  dismissed  for  his  anti-catholic  opposition  to  the  ministers,  and 
Sir  James  Scarlett  appointed.  Chief-justice  Best  was  elevated  to  the 
peerage  by  the  title  of  Lord  Wynford  ;  and  was  succeeded  in  the  common- 
pleas  bv  Sir  Nicholas  Tindal,  the  solicitor-general,  whose  office  was  given 
to  Mr.  Sugden. 

The  year  1830  commenced  without  any  circumstance  occurring  in  or 
out  of  parliament  worth  relating.  The  position  of  ministers  was  a  difficult 
one,  but  it  was  what  they  had  a  right  to  expect.  By  conceding  catholic 
emancipation  they  had  lost  the  support  of  their  most  influential  friends, 
and  they  were  now  compelled  to  accept  as  auxiliaries  those  hybrid  whigs, 
whose  co-operation,  to  be  permanent,  must  be  rewarded  by  a  share  in  the 
government.  But  the  stern  unbending  character  of  "the  duke"  would  not 
allow  him  to  share  even  the  glory  of  a  conquest  with  mercenaries  whom 
he  could  not  depend  on ;  and,  therefore,  as  the  tories  were  divided,  it  was 
clear  that  their  lule  was  fast  drawing  lo  a  close. 


730 


THE  TREASUaY  OF  HISTORY. 


An  event,  by  no  means  unexpected,  now  took  place.  For  a  consiLerabie 
time  past  the  king  had  been  indisposed,  and  be  was  rarely  seen  beyond 
the  limits  of  his  royal  domain  at  Windsor;  where,  when  he  was  well 
enough  to  take  exercise,  he  would  enjoy  a  forest-drive,  or  amuse  hinis«|f 
by  fishing  and  sailing  on  his  favourite  Virginia-water.  But  gout  Hud 
dropsy  had  made  sad  havoc  on  the  royal  invalid  ;  and  in  April  bulletins  ol 
his  health  began  to  be  published.  His  illness  gradually  increased  frutn 
that  time  to  the  26lh  of  June,  the  day  on  which  he  died.  After  a  severe 
paroxysm  his  majesty  appeared  to  be  fainting,  and,  exclaiming  "tliisip 
death,"  in  a  few  minutes  he  ceased  to  breathe. 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

THE    REIGN    OF    WILLIAM    IT. 

A.  D.  1830,  June  26. — William  Henry,  duke  of  Clarence,  third  son  oi 
George  HI.,  succeeded  to  the  throne  as  William  IV.,  being  at  the  time  of 
his  accession  in  the  65th  year  of  his  age.  This  monarch  was  brought  up 
to  the  navy,  having  entered  the  service  as  a  midshipman  in  1779,  on  board 
the  Royal  George,  a  98-gun-ship,  commanded  by  Captain  Digby ;  and,  by 
regular  gradations,  he  became  rear-admiral  of  the  blue  in  1790.  From  ihut 
lime  he  saw  no  more  active  service  afloat,  although  he  wished  to  share  in 
his  country's  naval  glories  ;  and  nothing  was  heard  of  him  in  his  profes- 
sional capacity,  till  Mr.  Canning,  in  1827,  revived  the  office  of  lord-high 
admiral,  which  for  more  than  a  century  had  been  in  commission.  He, 
however,  resigned  it  in  the  following  year,  the  duke  of  Wellington,  as 
prime  minister,  disapproving  of  the  expense  to  which  the  lord-high-admiral 
put  the  nation,  by  an  over-zealous  professional  liberality. 

On  the  23d  of  July  parliament  was  prorogued  by  the  king  in  person,  the 
royal  speech  being  congratulatory  as  to  the  general  tranquillity  of  Europe, 
the  repeal  of  taxes,  and  certain  reforms  introduced  into  the  judicial  estab- 
lishment of  the  country. 

It  was,  notwithstanding,  a  period  pregnant  with  events  of  surpassing 
interest,  but  as  they  chiefly  belong  to  the  history  of  France,  the  bare  men- 
tion of  them  is  all  that  is  here  necessary.  An  expedition  on  a  large  scale 
was  fitted  out  by  the  French,  with  the  ostensible  view  oi  chastising  the 
Algerines  for  their  piratical  insults ;  but  it  ended  in  thei,  "apturing  the 
city,  and  in  taking  measures  to  secure  Algeria  as  a  French  co  my.  Then 
came  the  revolutionary  struggle  on  the  appointment  of  the  Po..giiac  min- 
istry, which  ended  in  the  expulsion  of  Charles  X.  from  the  throne  of 
France,  and  the  elevation  of  Louis  Philippe,  duke  of  Orleans,  as  "king  of 
the  French,"  who  swore  fidelity  to  the  constitutional  charter. 

This  great  change  in  the  French  monarchy  was  effected  with  less  blood- 
shed, and  in  far  less  time,  than  could  have  been  anticipated  by  its  most 
sanguine  promoters;  for,  from  the  date  of  the  despotic  ordinances  issued 
by  the  ministers  of  Charles  X.,  to  the  moment  that  the  duke  of  Orleans 
accepted  the  oflSce  of  lieutenant-general  of  the  kingdom,  preparatory  to 
his  being  elected  king,  only  four  days  elapsed,  during  two  of  which  there 
were  some  sharply  contested  battles  between  the  citizens  and  the  royal 
troops  under  Marmont.  Of  the  citizens  three  hundred  and  ninety  were 
killed  on  the  spot,  and  of  two  thousand  five  hundred  wounded,  three  hun- 
dred died.  Of  the  royal  guard,  three  hundred  and  seventy-five  were  killed 
and  wounded,  and  of  gens-d^armes  two  hundred  and  two. 

A  similar  revolution  in  Belgium  followed.  When  that  country  was 
)oined  to  Holland  in  1815,  to  form  the  kingdom  of  the  Netherlands,  and 
thereby  raise  a  powerful  bulwark  on  the  frontier  of  France,  it  was  avow- 
edlv  a  mere  union  of  political  convenience,  in  which  neither  the  national 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


731 


(>n:ii  Mcter,  liie  iiiKtitutions,  nor  the  religion  of  the  inhabitants  was  consulted. 
No  sLMMier  did  the  outbreak  in  Paris  become  known,  than  Brussels,  I.icge, 
Namur,  fihcnt,  Antwerp,  and  other  cities,  showed  an  inveterate  spirit  of 
hostility  to  their  Dutch  rulers,  and  insurrections,  which  soon  amounted  to 
a  state  of  civil  war,  were  general  throughout  Belgium.  The  kingdom  of 
the  Netherlands  haviixg  been  created  by  Great  Britain,  Austria,  Prussia, 
Russia,  and  France,  these  powers  assumed  a  right  of  mediation  between 
the  belligerents ;  and  on  the  4th  of  November  a  protocol  was  signed  at 
London,  declaring  that  hostilities  should  cease,  and  that  the  troops  of  the 
contending  parties  should  retire  within  the  limits  which  formerly  separated 
Belgium  from  Holland. 

The  effect  of  these  successful  popular  commotions  abroad  was  not  lost 
UDon  the  people  of  England;  and  "parliamentary  reform"  became  the 
watch*word  of  all  who  wished  to  harass  the  tory  ministry.  The  duke  of 
Wellington  was  charged,  though  most  unjustly,  of  having  given  his  sup- 
port, or  at  least  been  privy  to  the  arbitrary  measures  of  tne  Polignac  min- 
istry ;  and  a  clamour  was  raised  against  him  and  his  colleagues  which  was 
beyond  their  power  to  control. 

By  degrees  the  small  ministerial  majority  dwindled  away,  and  in  less 
thiin  a  fortnight  from  the  assembling  of  parliament  the  tories  found  thetn- 
B>  Ives  in  a  minority  of  29,  on  a  motion  for  the  settlement  of  the  civil  list. 
This  was  a  signal  for  the  Wellington  ministry  to  resign,  and  their  seals 
of  office  were  respectfully  tendered  to  the  king  on  the  following  day,  No- 
vember 16. 

The  celebrated  "refoi  in  ministry"  immediately  succeeded ;  at  the  head 
of  which  was  Lord  Grey,  as  first  lord  of  the  treasury.  The  other  mem- 
bers of  the  cabinet  were  the  marquis  of  Lansdowne,  lord-president ;  Lord 
Brougham,  lord-chancellor;  Viscount  Althorp,  chancellor  of  the  exche- 
quer ;  Viscount  Melbourne,  home  secretary ;  Viscount  Palmerston,  foreign 
secretary ;  Viscount  Qoderich,  colonial  secretary ;  Lord  Durham,  lord 
privy  seal;  Lord  Auckland,  president  of  the  board  of  trade;  Sir  James 
Graham,  first  lord  of  the  admiralty ;  Lord  Holland,  chancellor  of  the  duchy 
of  Lancaster ;  Honourable  Charles  Grant,  president  of  the  India  board ; 
and  the  earl  of  Carlisle,  without  any  official  appointment.  Among  ihe 
ministers  who  had  no  seats  in  the  cabinet,  were  Lord  John  Russell,  pay- 
master-general ;  the  duke  of  Richmond,  postmaster-general ;  the  duke  of 
Devonshire,  lord-chamberlain ;  Marquis  Wellesley,  lord-steward ;  Sir  T. 
Deiiman,  attorney-general;  and  Sir  W.  Home,  solicitor-general.  The 
Marquis  of  Anglesea  was  invested  with  the  lord-lieutenancy  of  Ireland, 
and  Lord  Plunkett  was  its  lord-chancellor. 

During  the  autumn  of  this  year  a  novel  and  most  destructive  species  of 
oulrafe  prevailed  in  the  agricultural  districts  of  the  south  of  England, 
arising  from  the  distressed  condition  of  the  labouring  population.  Night 
after  night  incendiary  fires  kept  the  country  in  a  constant  state  of  alarm, 
aiui  farming-stock  of  every  description  was  consumed.  There  was  no 
open  rioting,  no  mobs ;  nor  did  it  appear  that  it  was  connected  with  any 
pdliiical  object.  In  the  counties  of  Kent,  Hants,  Wilts,  Bucks,  and  Sussex, 
these  disorders  rose  to  a  fearful  height ;  threatening  letters  often  preceding 
the  conflagrations,  which  soon  after  night-fall  would  simultaneously  burst 
(lilt,  and  spread  over  the  country  havoc  and  dismay.  Large  rewards  were 
offLied  for  the  discovery  of  the  offenders,  the  military  force  was  increased, 
,i:ul  special  commissions  were  appointed  to  try  the  incendiaries.  Alto- 
■i(!i!i('r  upwards  of  eight  hundred  offenders  were  tried,  the  greater  part  of 
« honi  were  acquitted ;  and  among  those  convicted,  four  were  executed, 
and  the  remainder  sentenced  to  different  terins  of  transportation  and  im- 
prisonment. 

In  referring  to  foreign  affairs,  we  h;ive  to  notice:  1.  The  trial  of  the 
fre/ich  ministers,  Polignac,  Peyroiinet,  Chantelauze,  and  Raiiville,  on  a 


732 


THE  TUEASUilY  OF  HIdTOUY. 


charge  of  liiffli  treason  for  the  par»  Ihey  took  in  enforcing  the  "  ordinancijii'' 
of  Charles  X.,  which  led  to  the  memorable  revolution  of  July.  2.  'Phc 
Polish  insurrection.  This  arose  from  the  grand  duke  Constantine*  ol 
Russia  having  severely  punished  some  of  the  young  military  students  at 
Warsaw  for  toasting  the  memory  of  Kosciusko.  The  inhabitants,  assisted 
by  the  Polish  regiments,  after  a  sanguinary  contest  in  the  streets,  com- 
pelled  the  Russians  to  retire  to  the  other  side  of  the  Vistula.  However 
dreading  the  resentment  of  their  tyrannical  masters,  they  afterwards  en- 
deavoured to  effect  an  amicable  eettlement;  but  the  emperor  Nicholas 
refused  to  listen  to  their  representations,  and  threatened  them  with  con- 
dign  punishment.  Meanwhile,  the  Poles  prepared  to  meet  the  approaching 
conflict,  and  Oeneral  Joseph  Chlopicki  was  invested  with  the  office  of  "di>-. 
tator."  3.  The  death  of  Simon  Bolivar,  the  magnanimous  "liberator"  ol 
Columbia,  who  expired,  a  voluntary  exile,  at  San  Pedro,  December  17,  in 
the  48lh  year  of  his  age. 

A.  D.  1831. — On  the  3d  of  February  parliament  re-assembled,  and  it  was 
announced  that  a  plan  of  reform  would  speedily  be  introduced  by  Lord 
John  RusMcll.  In  the  meantime  Lord  Althorp  brought  forward  the  budget; 
by  which  it  appeared  that  the  taxes  on  tobacco,  newspapers,  and  adver' 
tisements  were  to  be  reduced;  and  those  on  coals,  candles,  printed  cot 
tons,  and  some  other  articles,  abolished. 

The  subject  of  parliamentary  reform  continued  to  absorb  all  other  polit 
ical  considerations,  and  was  looked  forward  to  with  intense  interest.  In 
announcing  his  scheme.  Lord  John  Russel  proposed  the  total  disfranchise- 
ment of  sixty  boroughs,  in  which  the  population  did  not  amount  to  two 
thousand,  and  the  partial  disfranchisement  of  forty-seven,  where  the  pop. 
ulation  was  only  four  thousand.  The  bill,  after  a  spirited  discussion  of 
seven  days,  was  read  a  first  time.  The  second  reading  was  carried  on 
the  22d  of  March,  by  a  majority  of  one;  and  on  General  Gascoyne's  mo- 
tion for  the  commitment  of  the  bill,  there  was  a  majority  against  ministers 
of  eight.  Three  days  afterwards,  on  a  question  of  adjournment,  by  which 
the  voting  of  supplies  was  postponed,  this  majority  had  increased  to  twenty. 
two;  whereupon  the  ministers  tendered  their  resignations  to  the  kinc. 
These  he  declined  to  accept,  but  adopted  the  advice  of  Earl  Grey,  who 
recommended  a  dissolution  of  parliament,  which  took  place  on  the  22d 
of  April. 

On  the  14lh  of  June  the  new  parliament  met,  and  was  opened  by  the 
king  in  person.  On  the  25th  Lord  John  Russell  made  his  second  attempt. 
The  debate  lasted  three  nights,  and  on  a  division  there  was  a  majority  of 
one  hundred  and  thirty-six  in  favour  of  the  bill.  It  then  underwent  a  long 
and  severe  scrutiny  in  committee :  every  clause  was  discussed,  and  many 
imperfections  remedied.  These  occupied  the  house  till  the  19th  of  Sep. 
tember,  when,  after  another  debate  of  three  nights,  the  bill  was  carried 
by  a  majority  of  one  hundred  and  nine,  and  taken  up  to  the  lords— where 
it  failed. 

That  we  may  not  interrupt  the  thread  of  our  narrative,  we  pass  on  to 
April  14,  1832;  when,  after  a  four  nights' debate  in  the  house  of  lords, 
this  popular  bill  was  carried  by  a  majority  of  nine.  After  this,  innumera- 
ble difficulties  were  raised,  but  the  majority  on  its  third  reading  was  one 
hundred  and  six  to  twenty-two. 

We  shall  now  briefly  refer  to  a  few  occurrences  hitherto  omitted.  The 
Russians  sustained  a  severe  defeat  at  Wawz,  after  a  battle  of  two  days, 
their  loss  being  fourteen  thousand  men  ;  their  opponents  the  Poles,  suffer- 
ed comparatively  little.  But  on  the  30th  a  Polish  corps,  under  Dwcriiicki, 
being  hard  pressed  by  the  Russians,  retreated  into  Austrian  Gallicia,  and 
surrendering  to  the  Austrian  authorities,  were  treated  as  prisoners  and 
sent  into  Hungary.  In  short,  after  bravely  encountering  their  foes,  and 
struggling  against  superior  numbers,  Warsaw  capitulated,  and  the  idea  of 


HE  TREASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


733 


Polish  in'  •'endence  was  farther  removed  than  ever.— In  June,  Piince 
Leofv  .-■  a  elected  king:  of  Belgium  by  the  congress  at  Brussels,  his 
lerr.iorv  consist  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Netherlands,  as  settled  in  I8l  =  . 
On  tiio  rth  of  September  the  coronation  of  their  majesties  took  place  ; 
but  as  compared  with  the  gorgeous  display  and  banqueting  when  George 
IV.'  was  crowned,  it  must  be  considered  a  frugal  and  unostentatious 
cpyemony.  There  was,  however,  a  royal  procession  from  St.  James' 
nalace  to  Westminster-abbey  ;  and  in  the  evening  splendid  illuminations, 
free  admission  to  the  theatres,  and  a  variety  of  other  entertainments. 

On  the  31st  of  October,  the  London  Gazette  contained  precautions  to  be 
adopted  against  the  spread  of  the  Asiatic  cholera,  that  dreadful  pestilence 
having  lately  extended  from  Moscow  to  Hamburgh.  It  was  ordered  that 
a  board  of  health  should  be  established  in  every  town,  to  correspond  with 
the  board  in  London,  and  effectual  modes  of  insuring  cleanliness,  free 
ventilation,  &•;•  were  pointed  out.  These  precautionary  measures  were 
doubtless  of  great  use,  and  worthy  of  the  paternal  attention  of  a  humane 
ffovernment ;  but  owing,  as  was  supposed,  to  the  quarantine  laws  having 
been  evaded  by  some  persons  who  came  over  from  Hamburgh  and  landed 
at  Sunderland,  the  much-dreaded  infection  visited  many  parts  of  Great 
Britain,  and  produced  indescribable  alarm  among  all  ranks  of  people. 

One  other  event,  that  we  would  fain  omit  altogether,  remains  to  be 
mentioned  among  the  domestic  occurrences  of  the  year.     On  the  29th  of 
October  the  city  of  Bristol  became  the  scene  of  dreadful  riots,  which 
were  not  overcome  till  that  large  commercial  town  appeared  to  be  on  the 
verge  of  total  destruction.     Sir  Charles  Wetherell,  an  uncompromising 
opponent  of  the  reform  bill,  was  recorder  of  Bristol ;  and  maledictions  on 
his  head  were  freely  uttered  by  the  base  and  vulgar,  for  the  vigorous  stand 
he  made  against  the  bill  during  its  progress  through  the  commons.     On 
the  recorder's  making  his  public  entrance  the  cruel  storm  commenced, 
and  did  not  cease  till  the  third  day,  by  which  time,  besides  immense  de- 
struction of  private  property,  the  mansion-house,  custom-house,  excise- 
office,  and  bishop's  palace  were  plundered  and  set  on  fire ;  the  prisons 
were  burst  open,  and  their  inmates  set  at  liberty  ;  and  during  one  entire 
day,  Sunday,  the  mob  were  unresisted  masters  of  the  city.    On  Monday 
morning,  when  the  fury  of  the  rioters  had  partly  spent  itself  in  beastly 
orgies,  and  many  had  become  the  victims  of  excessive  drinking  in  the 
rifled  cellars  and  warehouses,  the  civil  magistrates  appeared  to  awake 
from  their  stupor,  and,  with  assistance  of  the  military,  this  "  ebullition  of 
popular  feeling,"  as  it  was  delicately  termed  by  some  who  had  uncon- 
sciously fanned  the   flame,  was  arrested.     The  loss  of  property  was 
estimated  at  half  a   million.     The   number  of  rioters   killed,  wound- 
ed  or  iniured,  was  about  110 ;   but  of  these,  far  more  suiTered  from 
the  vile  excesses  of  intemperance,  and  from  being  unable  to  escape  from 
the  fl&mes  which  they  had  themselves  kindled,  than  from  the  sabres  of 
the  soldiery  or  the  truncheons  of  constabulary  protectors.     One  hundred 
and  eighty  were  taken  into  custody,  and  *ried  by  a  special  commission ; 
when  four  were  executed  and  twenty-two  transported.    Their  trials  took 
pluce  on  tlie  2d  of  January,  1832.     Not  many  days  afterwards  Lieutenant- 
colonel  Brereton,  who  had  command  of  the  troops,  committed  suicide, 
pending  an  inquiry  in.o  his  conduct  by  court-martial.    He  was  charged 
with  not  having  displayed  the  firmness  and  decision  necessary  for  quelling 
a  tumult  of  such  magnitude.    That  more  energy  and  decision  ought  to 
have  been  shown  at  the  commencement,  by  the  civil  power,  is  evident; 
how  far  the  colonel  was  in  error  is  very  questionable.      The   whole 
transaction  proves  to  what  excesses  the  unbridled  fury  of  the  populace 
will  lead  during  a  period  of  political  excitement,  and  ought  to  serve  as  a 
perpetual  warning  to  all  those  unquiet  spirits  who  love  to  "  ride  on  the 
whirlwind,"  but  know  not  how  to  "  direct  the  storm," 


i      I 


734 


THE  TIIEAPURY  OF  HISTORY. 


A.  D.  1832. — Having  in  onr  previous  notice  stated  the  result  of  thf  long 
continuer]  contest  respecting  pHrlisimcntary  reform,  we  have  now  only  to 
describe  the  changes  efTected  in  the  representative  system  when  the  bills 
came  into  operation.    As  soon  as  the  royal  assent  was  given  to  the  En- 

?;lish  reform  hill  (June  the  7th),  congratulatory  addresses  and  other  peace- 
ul  demonstrations  of  public  joy  were  very  generally  indulged  in ;  but  if 
we  may  judge  by  the  triumphant  chuckle  of  the  victors  and  the  lofty 
scorn  of  the  vanquished,  the  angry  invectives  of  the  late  political  dispu- 
tants  were  neither  forgotten  nor  forgiven.  Yet,  though  the  war  of  words 
nad  not  wholly  passed  away,  it  was  now  as  a  mere  feather  in  the  balance— 
the  reform  bill  had  become  the  law  of  the  land. 

During  the  months  of  February,  March,  and  April,  the  cholera  became 
very  prevalent,  not  only  in  the  country  towns  and  villages  in  the  north  of 
England,  where  it  first  appeared,  but  also  in  the  metropolis.  Every  pos- 
sible attenti(»n  was  paid  to  the  subject  by  government ;  parochial  and  dis- 
trict  boards  were  forthwith  organized,  temporary  hospitals  got  ready  for 
the  reception  of  the  sick,  and  every  measure  that  humanity  and  pru- 
dence could  suggest  was  resorted  to,  to  check  the  progress  of  the  malady. 
The  virulence  of  the  disease  abated  during  the  three  succeeding  months 
but  at  the  end  of  the  summer  it  appeared  again  as  malignant  as  ever.  In 
the  whole  year,  the  deaths  from  cholera,  within  the  limits  of  the  bills  of 
mortality,  amounted  to  3.200  ;  and  the  total  number  of  deaths  exclusive  of 
London,  was  24,180;  the  amount  of  cases  being  68,855.  In  Paris,  1000 
deaths  occurred  during  the  first  week  of  its  appearance  there  ;  nay,  so 
fatal  was  it,  that  out  of  45,675  deaths  which  took  place  in  the  French 
capital  in  1832,  the  enormous  number  of  19.000  was  occasioned  by 
cholera.  This  frightful  epidemic  next  appeared  m  Canada  and  the  United 
States.  It  thus  made  the  tour  of  the  globe ;  beginning,  as  was  supposed, 
in  Hindostan  ;  then  devastating  Moscow  and  the  northern  parts  of 
Europe ;  visiting  Great  Britain  and  France ;  and  lastly,  crossing  the 
Atlantic. 

In  this  year's  obituary  are  the  names  of  several  men  of  eminence.  From 
among  them  we  select — Sir  James  Mackintosh,  an  eloquent  writer  and 
statesman. — Jeremy  Benlham,  celebrated  as  a  jurist  and  law  reformer; 
a  man  who  had  his  own  specifics  for  every  disease  of  the  body-politic,  but 
who  never  had  the  happiness  to  see  one  of  them  effect  a  cure.  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  the  "  wizard  of  the  north,"  as  some  of  his  eulogists  have 
called  him  ;  a  romance  writer  and  poet,  of  acknowledged  merit,  who  for 
a  long  period  enjoyed  a  popularity  unknown  to  any  of  his  cotemporaries. 
He  possessed  an  extraordinary  union  of  genius  and  industry,  and  hud  he 
been  satisfied  with  his  literary  gains,  instead  of  joining  in  the  speculations 
of  his  printers  and  publishers,  his  latter  days  would,  in  all  probability, 
have  been  spent,  as  they  ought,  in  the  enjoyment  of  ease  and  affluence. 

A.  D.  1833. — On  the  29ih  of  January  the  first  reform  parliament  was 
opened  by  commission,  and  on  the  5lh  of  February  the  king  delivered  his 
speech  in  person.  Among  other  topics  of  interest,  he  emphatically  dwelt 
upon  the  increasing  spirit  of  insubordination  and  violence  in  Ireland,  and 
on  the  necessity  which  existed  for  entrusting  the  crown  with  additional 
powers  for  punishing  the  disturbers  of  the  public  peace,  and  for  strengthen- 
ing the  legislative  union  of  the  two  kingdoms.  This  led  to  the  passing 
of  the  insurrection  acts  in  the  following  month ;  empowering  the  lord- 
lieutenant  to  prohibit  public  meetings  of  a  dangerous  tendency;  siis- 
pending  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus ;  authorizing  domiciliary  visits  by 
magistrates,  &c. 

Great  Britain  had  in  1807  abolished  the  "slave  trade,"  but  slavery  itselj 
was  now  to  become  extinct  in  the  West  Indies.  By  the  act  for  the 
"  abolition  of  colonial  slavery,"  all  children  under  six  years  of  age,  or 
born  after  August  1, 1834,  were  declared  free  ;  all  registered  slaves  above 


THE  TREASURY  OP  HI3T0RY 


735 


gix  years  became,  from  the  same  date,  apprenticed  labourers,  with  weekly 
pay,  eillier  in  money  or  by  board  and  lodging,  possessing,  at  the  samo 
lime,  all  the  rights  and  immunities  of  freemen.  In  effecting  so  great  a 
change,  it  was  necessary  that  the  owners  of  slaves  should  receive  some 
adequate  compensation.  To  meet  this  object,  ministers  at  first  proposed 
advancing  a  loan  of  fifteen  millions  to  the  West  India  proprietors;  but 
the  idea  of  a  loan  was  soon  converted  into  a  gift,  and  of  a  still  higher 
amount ;  the  sum  of  «£20,000,000  being  finally  voted  to  the  slave-owners 
as  a  liberal  compensation  fur  the  losses  they  might  sustain  by  this 
humane  measure.  An  end  was  thus  put  to  a  question  which  had  agitated 
the  religious  portion  of  the  community  from  the  day  that  Mr.  Wilberforce 
first  stood  forward  as  the  champion  of  African  emancipation. 

With  regard  to  renewing  the  charter  of  the  Bank  of  England,  there 
were  questions  on  which  the  legislature  were  divided ;  the  majority,  how- 
ever, insisted  on  the  expediency  of  continuing  the  exclusive  privileges  of 
the  bank,  so  that  it  should  remain  the  principal  and  governing  monetary 
association  of  the  empire. 

X.  D.  1834. — The  desire  to  move  onward  in  legislating  for  and  removing 
everything  that  seemed  to  obstruct  the  progress  of  "liberal"  principles, 
was  the  natural  consequence  of  the  reform  bill ;  and  at  the  commence 
ment  of  the  year  the  "  pressure  from  without "  was  felt  by  ministers  to 
1)6  a  most  inconvenient  appendage  to  their  popularity.  This  stale  of 
things  could  not  long  remain  ;  and  on  Mr.  Ward  bringing  forward  a 
motmn  in  the  house  of  commons  for  appropriating  the  surplus  revenue  of 
the  Irish  church  to  the  purposes  of  government,  it  appeared  that  there 
existed  a  difference  of  opinion  in  the  cabinet  as  to  the  mode  in  which  the 
motion  should  be  met.  The  majority  was  in  its  favour  ;  but  the  appro- 
priation of  church  properly  to  other  than  ecclesiastical  uses  was  incom- 
patible with  the  notions  of  Mr.  Stanley,  Sir  James  Graham,  the  earl  of 
Ripon,  and  the  duke  of  Richmond  ;  and  they  accordingly  resigned  their 
places  in  the  ministry.  This  happened  May  STlh  ;  the  28th  being  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  king's  birth-day,  the  Irish  prelates  presented  an  address  to  his 
majesty,  in  which  they  strongly  deprecated  ecclesiastical  inirovations. 
The  king  promptly  replied,  and  in  an  unstudied  speech  of  considerable 
length,  warmly  expressed  his  attachment  to  thechurc^h.  He  said  that  he  had 
always  been  friendly  to  toleration  in  its  utmost  latitude,  but  opposed  to 
liL'enli(»usness,  and  that  he  was  fully  sensible  how  much  both  the  protes- 
tant  church  and  his  own  family  were  indebted  to  the  revolution  of  1688  ; 
emphatically  and  somewhat  naively  adding,  "  Ttie  words  which  you  hear 
from  me  are  spoken  from  my  mouth,  but  they  proceed  from  my  heart." 

The  rupture  with  the  ministers  above-named  was  speedily  followed  by 
another,  which  ended  in  the  resignation  of  Earl  Grey,  the  premier.  In 
the  communications  which  had  from  time  to  time  been  made  by  ministers 
to  Mr.  O'Connell  on  Irish  affairs,  it  had  been  confidently  stated  to  him  that 
when  the  Irish  coercion  bill  was  renewed,  the  clauses  prohibitory  of 
meetings  would  not  be  pressed ;  nevertheless,  the  obnoxious  clauses  ap- 
peared in  the  bill  ;  and  Mr.  O'Connell  declared  that  he  considered  it  dis- 
solved the  obligation  of  secrecy  under  which  the  communication  had 
been  made.  Lord  \lthorp  finding  himself  unable  to  carry  the  coercion 
bill  tlirough  the  commons,  with  the  clauses  against  public  meetings,  sent  in 
his  resignation  ;  and  as  Earl  Grey  considered  himself  unable,  without  the 
assistance  of  Lord  Allhorp  as  ministerial  leader  in  the  house  of  commons, 
to  carry  on  the  government,  he  also  resigned. 

An  arrangement  was,  however,  soon  effected  to  form  another  minis- 
try, Lord  Allhorp  consenting  lo  resume  the  chancellorship  of  the  ex- 
chequer under  the  prenjiership  of  Viscount  Melbourne.  The  new 
cabinet  ihen  stood  thus  :  Viscount  Melbourne,  first  lord  of  the  treasury  ; 
Lord  Brougham,  lord- chancellor ;  Viscount  Allhorp,  chancellor  of  the 


ii 


r3G 


THE  TltEABUaVOF  HISTORY. 


exclieqiier;  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  president  of  the  council;  Rarl  o( 
Mulgravc,  privy  seal;  Viscount  Duiicannon,  home  secretary;  Viscount 
Paliuerston,  foreign  secretary ;  Spring  Rice,  colonial  secretary ;  Lord 
Aucidand,  first  lord  of  the  admiralty ;  Charles  Grant,  president  of  the 
India  board ;  Marquis  of  Conyngham,  postmaster-general ;  Lord  Holland 
chancellor  of  the  duchy  of  Lancaster;  Lord  John  Russell,  paymaster  ol 
the  forces  ;  and  E.  J.  Littleton,  secretary  for  Ireland. 

An  event  now  took  place  which  was  regarded  as  a  national  calamity 
not  merely  on  account  of  the  loss  sustained,  but  also  from  the  historical 
and  personal  associations  connected  with  it.  On  ihe  evening  of  the  16ih 
of  October  a  fire  broke  out  in  one  of  the  offices  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
house  of  lords,  which  continued  to  rage  throughout  the  night,  and  was  not 
completely  extinguished  for  several  days.  Great  anxiety  was  felt  for 
the  safety  of  that  ancient  edifice,  Westminster-hall;  and  even  the  vener- 
able and  magnificent  gothic  pile  opposite,  Westminster-abbey,  was  at  one 
period  in  great  danger;  but  nothing  that  skill  or  intrepidity  could  achieve 
was  neglected  in  arresting  the  progress  of  the  flames ;  and  though  the 
two  houses  of  parliament  were  destroyed,  neither  the  hall  nor  the  abbey 
sustained  material  damage  ;  and  the  libraries  and  state  papers  in  the  lords 
and  commons  were  preserved.  The  fire,  as  appeared  on  inquiry,  was 
caused  by  negligence,  in  burning  the  exchequer-tallies  in  a  building 
adjoining  the  house  of  lords. 

One  month  after  the  destruction  of  the  houses  of  parliament  the  Mel. 
bourne  ministry  was  summarily  dismissed.  On  the  14th  November,  Lord 
Melbourne  waited  on  his  majesty  at  Brighton  to  take  his  commands  on  the 
appointment  of  a  chancellor,  in  the  room  of  Lord  Alihorp,  removed,  by 
the  death  of  his  father,  Karl  Spencer,  to  the  house  of  peers.  The  king,  it 
is  said,  objected  to  the  proposed  re-construction  of  the  cabinet,  and  made 
his  lordship  the  bearer  of  a  letter  to  the  duke  of  Wellington,  who  waited 
upon  his  majesty,  and  advised  him  to  place  Sir  Robert  Peel  at  the  head  of 
the  government.  Sir  Robert  was  at  the  time  in  Italy,  whither  a  courier 
was  dispatched,  and  the  baronet  arrived  in  London,  Dec.  9,  saw  the  king, 
and  accepted  the  situation.  Thus  again,  though  for  a  brief  space,  the  tory 
party,  or  conservatives,  as  they  were  now  called,  were  in  the  ascendant. 

A.  D.  1836. — The  Melbourne  cabinet  had  been  looked  upon  as  the  dre^s 
of  the  Grey  ministry  ;  and  the  losses  it  had  sustained  by  the  withdrawal 
of  the  earl  of  Durham,  the  Stanley  section,  and  the  noble  premier  himself 
had  not  been  supplied  by  men  of  suitable  talents.  The  public,  therefore^ 
had  no  great  reason  for  regret,  when  the  king  so  suddenly  dispensed  with 
their  services.  Yet  when  the  same  men  were  entrusted  with  the  reins  of 
government  who  had  been  the  strenuous  opposers  of  reform,  an  instanta- 
neous outcry  burst  forth,  and  the  advent  of  toryism  was  regarded  by  the 
populace  with  feelings  of  distrust  and  dread.  Sir  Robert  Peel,  however, 
explicitly  declared  that  he  considered  the  reform  bill  as  &  final  and  irre- 
vocable settlement ;  and  he  appealed  to  several  measures  that  had  for- 
merly emanated  from  himself,  as  proofs  that  he  was  not  opposed  to  the 
redress  of  grievances.  But  when,  on  the  30th  of  March,  Lord  John  Rus. 
sell  brought  forward  his  resolution — •'  that  the  house  should  resolve  itself 
into  a  committee  of  the  whole  house,  to  consider  the  temporalities  of  the 
church  of  Ireland,"  the  motion  was  met  by  Sir  E.  Knatchbull  with  a  direct 
negative,  and  after  a  long  and  stormy  debate,  ministers  found  themselves 
in  a  minority  of  33.  The  bill  was  then  discussed  in  committee ;  and  after 
three  nights'  debate  there  was  still  a  majority  against  them  of  27.  Find 
ing  that  neither  concessions  nor  professions  of  liberality  were  of  any 
avail,  the  duke  of  Wellington  in  the  upper  house,  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  in 
the  lower,  announced  their  resignations ;  the  latter  at  the  same  time  de- 
claring, that  though  thwarted  by  the  commons,  he  parted  with  them  on 
'"riendly  terms. 


THE  THBA8UHY  OF  UISTOHY. 


73? 


These  changes  in  the  ministry  sadly  impede  us  in  the  progress  of  this 
uuecin'-t  history ;  but  as  they  engrossed  universiiialteMtioiiat  the  liino,  so 
must  they  now  be  rehUed,  as  afTurding  the  readiest  elue  to  tht;  principal 
irausactions  in  the  arena  of  pohtics.  Once  more,  then,  we  see  Lord  Mel- 
bourne as  the  premier;  Lord  John  Russell,  home  secretary;  Pahnerston, 
foreign  secretary;  Right,  lion.  Spring  Rice,  chancellor  of  the  exchequer; 
marquis  of  Lansdowne,  president  of  the  council ;  the  other  appointments 
filled  nearly  as  they  were  when  the  "  liberals"  were  in  power,  ex'-.ept  that 
the  great  seal  was  put  in  commission. 

Let  us  a  moment  pause  in  our  domestic  narrative,  to  mention  a  diabolical 
contrivance  in  France,  which  might  have  involved  Europe  in  another  scene 
of  blood  and  tumult  but  for  its  providential  failure.  On  the  2Bth  of  July, 
during  the  festivities  of  the  annual  commemoration  of  the  revolution  of 
1830,°a8  Louis  Philippe,  attended  by  his  sons  and  a  splendid  suite,  was 
riding  along  the  line  of  the  national  guard,  on  the  boulevard  of  the  Temple, 
an  explosion  like  a  discharge  of  musketry  took  place  from  the  window  of 
an  adjoining  house,  which  killed  Marshal  Mortier  and  another  general 
officer,  besides  killing  or  wounding  nearly  forty  other  persons.  But  the 
king,  who  was  the  object  of  this  indiscriminate  slaughter,  with  his  three 
sons,  escaped  unhurt.  The  assassin,  who  was  a  Corsican  named  Fiesclii, 
was  seized  by  the  police  in  the  act  of  descending  from  the  window  by  a 
rope,  and  wounded  by  the  bursting  of  some  of  the  barrels  of  his  "  infernril 
machine."  The  deadly  instrument  consisted  of  a  frame  upon  which  were 
arranged  twenty-five  barrels, each  loaded  with  bullets,  &c.,  and  the  touch- 
holes  communicating  by  means  of  a  train  of  gunpowder.  On  his  trial  he 
made  no  attempt  to  deny  his  guilt,  but  nothing  could  be  elicited  to  prove 
ihat  any  formidable  conspiracy  existed,  or  that  he  was  influenced  by  any 
political  party  to  undertake  the  horrid  act.  The  atrocious  attempt,  how- 
ever, served  for  a  convenient  pretext  to  introduce  a  series  of  severe  laws 
for  the  prevention  and  punishment  of  state  crimes  and  revolutionary 
attempts. 

We  shall  close  our  sketch  of  this  year's  occurrences  by  briefly  noticing 
tlie  deaths  of  two  persons,  who,  in  their  career  for  popular  applause,  at- 
tained a  more  than  ordinary  share  of  notoriety.  The  one  was  Henry 
Hunt,  late  M.P.,  for  Preston,  who  had  figured  as  a  leader  among  the 
radicals,  and  whose  zeal  for  "  the  people"  at  the  too  memorable  meeting 
ai  Manchester  had  been  rewarded  by  a  long  imprisonment  in  Ilchester 
jail.  He  was  originally  a  respectable  and  wealthy  Wiltshire  farmer; 
but  having  renounced  the  charms  of  country  life  for  the  euphonious  greet- 
ings of  "  unwashed  artisans,"  he  for  many  years  continued  to  hold  un- 
divided empire  over  their  affections.  In  personal  appearance  Mr.  Hunt 
was  a  fine  specimen  of  the  English  yeoman ;  he  was  naturally  shrewd, 
uniting  caution  with  boldness,  but,  above  all,  greedy  of  political  popularity. 
During  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  his  name,  which  used  to  grace  the  walls 
in  juxta-position  with  "  universal  suffrage,"  was  allied  with  "  matchless 
blacking ;"  and  it  was  while  he  was  on  a  journey  of  business  through 
the  south-western  counties  that  he  met  with  his  death,  owing  to  a  violent 
fit  of  paralysis  with  which  he  was  seized  as  he  was  alighting  from  his 
phaeton  at  Alresford,  Hants.  His  more  distinguished  cotemporary  and 
coadjutor,  though  sometimes  powerful  rival,  was  William  Cobbett,  M. P. 
for  Oldham ;  a  man  remarkable  for  persevering  industry,  and  of  unques- 
tionable talents,  who,  from  following  his  father's  plough,  and  afterwards 
serving  with  credit  as  a  British  soldier  in  America,  passed  the  greater 
part  of  his  life  in  the  unceasing  s'rife  of  politics,  and  was  able,  by  the 
force  of  his  extraordinary  and  versatile  p>)wer3  as  a  writer,  to  keep  a 
strong  hold  on  public  opinion  for  nearly  half  a  century.  He  died  in  June, 
'kot  three  months  after  his  quondam  friend,  Mr.  Henry  Hunt. 
A.  D.  1836. — The  year  opened  auspiciously,  both  with  regard  to  its  com 
Vol.  I.— 47 


738 


THK  TREAriUHY  OF  HISTORY. 


mercial  prospects  and  its  political  aspect.  The  whole  manuracttiringdis. 
triets  were  in  a  state  of  activity  ;  money  was  abnndiiiit  wherever  tolerable 
security  was  offered  ;  and  though  an  immense  ahsorption  of  capital  was 
taking  place  in  extensive  public  undertakiny;s,  such  as  railways.  Home  o| 
which  were  already  highly  successful,  there  was  very  little  of  that  wiM 
spirit  of  adventure  which  ten  years  before  had  nearly  brought  the  country 
to  the  brink  of  ruin.  Mercantile  confidence  rested  upon  a  better  ban.s 
than  't  had  done  for  a  long  time  past;  the  ports  bore  ample  evidence  of 
the  prosperity  of  British  commerce;  and  though  there  were  still  just  com. 
plaints  of  agricultural  distress,  they  were  partial  rather  than  general. 

In  the  obituary  for  this  year  are  several  distinguished  names :  Lord 
Stowell,  aged  90,  an  eminent  civilian,  many  years  judge  of  the  hi|{h  court 
of  admiralty,  and  brother  of  lord-chancellor  KIdon. — Nathan  Meyer  Roilis. 
child,  the  greatest  millionaire  of.lhe  age  ;  a  man  who  in  conjunction  with 
other  members  of  hia  family  on  the  continent  may  be  said  to  have  gov- 
erned the  European  money  market. — James  Wood,  the  rich,  eecentrin 
and  penurious  banker  of  Gloucester. — James  Mill,  the  historian  of  British 
India. — Charles  X.,  ex-king  of  PVance,  who  died  an  exile  in  Iliyria,  in  the 
80th  year  of  his  age. — And  the  Ahhc  Sieyes,  who  under  all  the  phases  of 
the  I<  rench  revolution  maiiitained  an  elevated  station,  and  on  tiic  fall  of 
the  republic  became  a  count  and  peer  of  the  empire. 

A.  D.  1837. — It  was  remarked  at  the  commencement  of  the  previous  year 
that  symptoms  of  prosperity  appeared  in  all  the  leading  branches  of  com. 
mercial  industry.  But  over-trading,  led  on  and  encouraged  by  over-bank- 
ing, again  produced  evils.  During  the  year  ISS'i  no  less  than  forty-five 
joint-stock  banks  had  been  established.  It  was  therefore  natural  that  one 
of  the  subjects  recommended  to  the  attention  of  parliament  in  the  opcnino 
speocii,  should  be  "a  renewal  of  the  inquiry  into  the  operation  of  Joini". 
stock  banks."  Little  progress,  however,  was  made,  when  an  event  oc- 
curred which  for  a  time  absorbed  all  matters  of  minor  interest. 

The  pui)lic  had  been  apprised  by  the  publication  of  bulletins,  that  his 
majesty  was  seriously  ill,  and  on  the  20th  of  June  his  death  was  announced 
as  having  taken  place  early  that  morning.  He  was  perfectly  conscious 
of  his  approaching  fate,  and  had  expressed  a  wish  to  stirvive  the  anniver- 
sary of  the  battle  of  Waterloo  on  the  18th.  The  good  old  king  was  so 
far  gratified ;  but  the  symptoms  of  internal  decay  rapidly  increased,  and 
he  breathed  his  last,  as  his  head  rested  on  Queen  Adelaide's  shoulder,  in 
the  presence  of  the  archbishop  of  CJanterbury,  the  dean  of  Hereford,  &c., 
faintly  articulating,  "Thy  will  be  done.'  The  queen's  attentions  to  her 
afflicted  consort  had  been  unremitting ;  for  twelve  days  she  did  not  take 
off  her  clothes,  but  was  constantly  in  the  sick  chamber  administering  con- 
solation.  His  majesty  was  in  the  72d  year  of  his  age,  and  had  nearly 
completed  the  seventh  year  of  his  reign.  The  royal  corpse  lay  in  state 
till  the  8th  of  July,  when  it  was  deposited  in  St.  George's  chapel,  Windsor. 
The  duke  of  Sussex  attended  as  chief  mourner;  and  the  queen  dowager 
was  present  in  the  royal  closet  during  the  funeral  service. 

Many  were  the  eulogiums  pronounced  upon  the  deceased  monarch ;  but 
no  testimony  was  more  just,  or  more  characteristic  of  his  real  qMalities, 
than  the  following  tribute  by  Sir  Robert  Peel.  He  said,  "it  was  the  uni- 
versal feeling  of  the  country,  that  the  reigns  of  government  were  never 
committed  to  the  hands  of  one  who  bore  himself  as  a  sovereign  with  more 
affability,  and  yet  with  more  true  dignity — to  one  who  was  more  compas- 
sionate for  the  sufferings  of  others — or  to  one  whose  nature  was  more 
completely  free  from  all  selfishness.  He  did  not  believe  that,  in  the  most 
exalted  or  in  the  most  humble  station,  there  could  be  found  a  man  who 
elt  more  pleasure  in  witnessing  and  promoting  the  vvelfare  of  others." 


TUK  TiUAbUaY  OK  UlSTOaV.  719 


CHAPTER  LXVI 

THE     REION     or     VICTORIA. 

A.  B.  1837.— liilelligeiice  of  his  majesty's  death  having  been  officially 
coiTiinunitMted  to  the  PriiicesH  Victoria  and  the  duchess  of  Kent,  at  Ken- 
siiigtun  palace,  preparations  were  immediately  made  for  holding  a  privy 
council  there  at  eleven  o'clock.  A  temporary  throne  was  erected  for  the 
occasion ;  and,  on  the  queen  being  seated,  the  lord-chancellor  administered 
to  Iter  majesty  the  usual  oath,  that  she  would  govern  the  kingdom  accord- 
ing to  its  laws  and  customs,  &c.  The  cabinet  ministers  and  other  privy 
councillors  then  present  took  the  oaths  of  allegiance  and  supremacy  ;  and 
the  ministers  having  first  resigned  their  seals  of  office,  her  mujesty  was 
graciously  pleased  to  return  them,  and  they  severally  kissed  hands  on  their 
re-appoiuirnent. 

By  the  death  of  William  IV.  the  crowns  of  the  United  Kingdom  and 
Hanover  were  dissevered  through  the  operation  of  the  salic  law  excluding 
females  from  the  Hanoverian  kingdom,  which  consequently  descended  to 
the  next  heir,  the  duke  of  Cumberland ;  and  Adelaide,  as  queen-dowager, 
was  entitled  to  c£lOO,000  per  annum,  settled  upon  her  for  life  in  18.31,  with 
Marlburoui>h-house  and  Bushy-house  for  residences. 

On  the  20th  of  October  the  new  parliament  assembled,  when  her  majesty 
opened  in  person  tlie  business  of  the  session.     In  her  progress  to  and  from 
the  house,  the  queen  was  received  by  the  populace  with  the  strongest 
demonstrations  of  enthusiasm.    Tiie  speech,  which  her  majesty  delivered 
in  a  clear,  audible  voice,  concluded  with  the  following  sentence :    "  The 
early  age  at  which  I  am  called  to  the  sovereignty  of  this  kingdom,  renders 
it  au  imperative  duty  that,  under  Divine  Providence,  I  should  place  my 
reliance  upon  your  cordial  co-operation,  and  upon  the  love  and  affection 
of  all  my  people."     In  the  house  of  lords,  the  address  in  answer  to  her 
majesty's  gracious  speech  was  moved  by  her  uncle  the  duke  of  Sussex, 
who  "  trusted  ho  might  be  allowed  to  express  his  conviction  that  when 
tlie  chroniclers  at  a  future  period  should  have  to  record  the  annals  of  her 
reign,  which  had  so  auspiciously  commenced,  and  which,  with  the  blessing 
of  God,  he  trusted  would  be  continued  for  many  years,  they  would  not  be 
written  in  letters  of  blood,  but  would  commemorate  a  glorious  period  of 
pros|)erity,  the  triumphs  of  peace,  the  spreading  of  general  knowledge,  the 
advancement  of  the  arts  and  manufactures,  the  diffusion  of  commerce,  the 
content  of  all  classes  of  society,  and  the  general  welfare  of  the  country." 
No  great  progress  was  made  during  the  first  session  of  Victoria's  par- 
liament in  settling  the  various  important  subjects  under  discussion.    At 
its  close,  however,  the  civil  list  bill  was  passed;  it  provided  a  total  sum 
of  three  hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand  pounds,  which  was  thus  classed : 
1,  privy  purse,  sixty  thousand  pounds ;  2,  salaries  of  household  and  retired 
allowances,  one  hundred  and  thirty-one  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty 
pounds  ;  3,  expenses  of  household,  one  hundred  and  seventy-two  thousand 
five  hundred  pounds  ;  4,  royal  bounty,  &c.,  thirteen  thousand  two  hundred 
pounds;  5,  pensions,  one  thousand  two  hundred  pounds;  unappropriated 
moneys,  eight  thousand  and  forty  pounds.     On  the  23d  her  majesty  went 
in  person  to  give  it  her  royal  assent,  and  then  adjourned  the  parliament 
to  the  IGth  of  January. 

A.  D.  183S. — I*  nr  some  time  there  had  been  symptoms  of  discontent  in 
Lower  Canada,  fomented  by  the  old  French  parly,  which  at  length  broke 
out  into  the  appearance  of  a  civil  war.  To  check  m  evil  so  pregnant  with 
mischief,  it  was  deemed  advisable  that  no  ordinary  person  should  be  sent 
out  to  that  important  colony.  Accordingly,  it  was  notified  in  the  London 
Gazette,  Jan  16,  that  the  oarl  of  Durham^  G.O  B.  was  atj-    Anted  governor- 


f!   / 


740 


TUB  THKA8UUY  OF  UISTOBY. 


general  of  "  all  licr  majcnty's  provinces  within  and  adjacent  to  the  con 
tinnnt  of  North  Ainerii-a,  and  tier  majesty's  high  cominisHioner  for  the 
adjustment  of  certain  important  afTairs  affecting  the  provinces  of  Lovrei 
and  Upper  Canada."  IliH  lordt>hip  did  not  arrive  in  Canada  till  neurly 
the  end  of  May.  Actual  contests  liad  taken  place  between  considerable 
parlies  of  the  insurgents  and  the  troops  under  Lieutenant-colonel  Wether- 
all,  who  had  succeeded  in  driving  them  from  all  the  villages  on  the  line  o| 
the  river  Richelieu.  At  length,  on  the  13th  of  December,  Sir  John  Col- 
borne  himself  inarched  from  Montreal  to  attack  the  chief  post  of  the  rebels 
at  the  Grand  Brule.  On  the  following  day  an  engagement  took  place  ia 
the  churchyard  of  St.  Euslache,  when  the  loyalist  army  proved  once 
more  victorious,  eighty  of  the  enemy  having  been  killed,  and  one  hundred 
and  twenty  taken  prisoners.  Dr.  J.  0.  Chenier,  their  leader,  was  gJHia 
and  the  town  was  more  than  half  burned  down.  On  the  15ili,  on  Sii 
John  Colborne's  approach  to  the  town  of  St.  Benoit,  a  great  portion  of  the 
inhabitants  came  out  bearing  a  while  flag  and  begging  for  mercy  ,  but  in 
consequence  of  the  great  disloyalty  of  the  place,  and  the  fact  of  tlie  prin- 
cipal leaders  having  been  permitted  to  escape,  some  of  their  houses  were 
filed  as  an  example.  Dr.  Wolfred  Nelson,  one  of  the  rebel  leaders,  hav- 
ing been  nine  days  concealed  in  the  woods,  was  brought  in  prisoner  to 
Montreal.  In  the  Upper  Province,  a  body  of  rebels,  which  occupied  a 
position  about  three  miles  from  Toronto,  threatening  that  city,  were  suc- 
cessfully attacked  and  dispersed  on  the  7th  of  December,  by  Sir  Francis 
Bond  Head,  at  the  head  of  the  armed  citizens,  with  such  reinforcements 
as  had  spontaneously  joined  them  from  the  country.  The  rebels  had 
however,  established  a  camp  on  Navy  island,  on  the  Niagara  river ;  and* 
many  citizens  of  the  United  States  were  implicated  in  the  insurrect  onary 
movements  there  and  elsewhere  on  the  frontier. 

On  the  3d  of  March  a  sharp  engagement  took  place  between  her  maj- 
esty's troops  and  the  insurgents,  in  which  the  latter  were  totally  defeated 
at  Point  Pele  island,  near  the  western  boundary  of  the  British  possessions. 
This  island  had  been  occupied  by  about  five  hundred  men,  well  armed  and 
equipped ;  when  Colonel  Maitland,  in  order  to  dispossess  them,  marched 
from  Amherstburgh  with  a  few  companies  of  the  32d  and  83d  regiments 
two  six-pounders,  and  some  volunteer  cavalry.  The  action  that  followed' 
assumed  the  character  of  bush-fighting — the  island,  which  is  about  seven 
miles  long,  being  covered  with  thicket,  and  the  pirates  outnumbering  the 
troops  in  the  proportion  of  nearly  two  to  one.  Ultimately,  however,  they 
were  driven  to  flight,  leaving  among  the  dead.  Colonel  Bradley,  the 
commander-in-chief.  Major  Howdley,  and  Captains  Van  Rensellaer  and 
M'Keon,  besides  a  great  many  wounded  and  other  prisoners.  The  insur- 
gents being  thus  foiled  in  their  daring  attempts,  it  is  not  necessary,  for  the 
present,  for  us  to  allude  further  to  Canadian  affairs,  than  to  observe  that 
some  of  the  most  active  ringleaders  were  executed,  and  others  transported 
to  the  island  of  Bermuda. 

In  narrating  the  domestic  occurrences  of  this  year,  we  have  to  com- 
mence with  one  which,  like  the  great  conflagration  of  the  houses  of  par- 
liament, filled  the  inhabitants  of  the  metropolis  with  alarm.  Soon  aftet 
Jen  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  10th  January,  a  fire  broke  out  in  the 
tioyal  Exchange.  The  firemen  were  proniptly  on  the  spot,  but  owing  to 
•n  intense  frost,  great  delay  was  occasioned  before  their  services  became 
efTective.  Every  effort  was  made,  but  the  work  of  destruction  went  on, 
*rora  room  to  room  and  from  one  story  to  another,  till  that  fine  building, 
with  Its  various  offices  and  royal  statues,  was  utterly  demolished.  It  wan 
remarked  by  those  present,  that  at  twelve  o'clock,  when  the  flames  had 
just  reached  the  north-west  angle  of  the  building,  the  chimes  struck  up, 
as  usual,  the  old  tune  "  There's  nae  luck  about  the  house,"  and  continued 
'.nr  about  five  minutes.    The  effect  was  extraordinary ;  for  although  thi 


THK  TIlRASUftY  OF  IIMTOllY. 


741 


Are  was  violently  ragiii);,  and  discunlaiit  Houiidit  aruao  in  every  quarter, 
the  tunc  W1I9  distiiully  lii;i»rd. 

A.  D.  183D. — Caiiiiilii  ii|{iiMi  dt'iiiaiids  our  notice.  Lord  Durluiin  had 
been  Bi'iil  out  willi  cxtraoniiiiary  powers  tu  iiwrt^t  tlio  uxi^ciicy  of  nfTairs 
in  tli'it  colony.  It  wiis  now  inlniitlcd  that  Id;  hud  exceeded  the  scope  of 
those  powers,  by  deciding;  on  tlie  ({uilt  of  nccused  men,  without  trial,  and 
by  baniMhint;  and  imprisoning  them ;  hut  the  ministers  thought  it  their 
duty  to  iiirquicHce  in  passing  a  bill,  which,  while  it  recited  ttie  illeijality  of 
the  ordinance  iNSued  by  his  lurdt<hip,  should  iiidemniry  those  who  had  ad- 
vised or  acted  under  it,  on  the  score  of  thttir  presumed  good  intentio'i 
The  ordinance  set  forth  that  "  Wolfred  Nelson,  R.  S.  M.  Uoucliette,  and 
others,  now  in  Montreal  jail,  having  acknowledged  their  treasons  and  sub- 
mitted themselves  to  the  will  and  pleasure  of  her  niajesly,  shall  be  trans- 
ported to  the  island  of  liermnda,  not  to  return  on  painuf  death  ;  and  the 
same  penalty  is  to  be  inciurred  by  Papineau,  and  others  who  have  abscond- 
ed, if  found  at  large  in  the  province.  Government  had  iiitei.ded  merely 
to  substitute  a  temporary  legislative  power  during  tlie  suspension  of,  and 
in  substitution  for,  the  ordinary  legislature ;  and  as  the  ordinary  legisla- 
ture would  not  have  had  power  to  pass  sucii  an  ordinance,  it  was  argued 
that  neither  could  this  power  belong  to  the  8ubstitnt«'d  authority. 

The  passing  of  the  indemnity  act  made  a  great  sensation  as  soon  as  »'. 
was  known  in  Canada  ;  and  Lord  Durham,  acutely  feeling  that  his  implied 
condemnation  was  contained  in  it,  declared  his  intention  to  resign  and  re- 
turn immediately  to  Kngland,  inasmuch  as  he  was  now  deprived  of  the 
ability  to  do  the  good  wnich  he  had  hoped  to  accomplish. 

Meanwhile,  the  Canadas  again  became  iho  scene  of  rebellious  war  and 
piratical  invasion.     The  rebels  occupied  Heauharnois  and  Acadie,  near 
the  confluence  of  the  Richelieu  and  the  St.  Lawrence,  establishing  their 
head-quarters  at  Napierville;  and  ilieir  forces  mustered,  at  one  time,  to 
the  number  of  eight  thousand  men,  generally  well  armed.     Several  actions 
took  place  ;  and  Sir  John  Colborne,  who  had  proclaimed  martial  law,  con- 
centrated his  troops  at  Napierville  and   Chaleauqiiay,  and  executed  a 
severe  vengeance  upon  the  rebels  whom  he  found  there,  burning  the 
houses  of  the  disaffected  through  the  whole  district  of  Acadie.     But  it 
was  a  part  of  the  plan  of  the  traitors  and  their  republican  confederates  to 
distract  the  attention  of  the  British  commander  and  to  divide  the  military 
force,  by  invading  upper  Canada;  and  at  the  moment  Sir  John  Colborne 
was  putting  the  last  hand  to  the  suppression  of  the  rebellion  in  Beauhar- 
nois  and    Acadie,  eight   hundred   republican   pirates  embarked   in  two 
schooners  at  Ogdensburgh,  fully  armed,  and  provided  with  six  or  eight 
pieces  of  artillery,  to  attack  the  town  of  Prescotl,  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river.    By  the  aid  of  two  United  States  steamers,  they  effected  a  land- 
ing a  mile  or  two  below  the  town,  where  they  established  themselves  in 
a  windmill  and  some  stone  buildings,  and  repelled  the  first  attempt  made 
to  dislodge  them,  killing  and  wounding  forty-five  of  their  assailants,  among 
whom  were  five  ofl[icer8 ;  but  on   Colonel  Dundas  arriving  with  a  rein- 
forcement of  regular  troops,  with  three  pieces  of  artillery,  they  surren- 
dered at  discretion.     Some  other  skirmishes  subsequently  took   place, 
chiefly  between  American  desperadoes  who  invaded  the  British  territory 
and  the  queen's  troops  ;  but  the  former  were  severely  punished  for  their 
temerity.    The  conduct  of  Sir  John  Colborne  elicited  the  praise  of  all 
parties  at  home  ;  and  he  was  appointed  governor-general  of  Canada,  with 
all  the  powers  which  had  been  vested  in  the  earl  of  Durham. 

The  adjustment  of  a  boundary  line,  hpl  ween  Maine  and  New-Brunswick, 
had  been  a  subject  of  dispute  fron^  ti-ie  time  the  independence  of  the 
Slates  was  acknowledged  in  1783.  Thouy:h  the  tract  in  dispute  was  of 
no  value  to  either  claimant  generally  as  likely  to  become  profitable  undei 
cultivation,  yet  some  part  of  it  was  found  necessary  to  Great  Britain  as  a 


74} 


THK  TUKA8UIIY  Of  IIIUTOHY. 


meuiiM  of  foinitiiitiiriiiioti  hrtwfiMi  Nfw-Hnin«wick  ami  the-  Canadn^aij 
thiiN  through  nil  tlic  hriiiriti  roloiiicM.  (irrat  Hntaiii  hiul,  moreover,  hhk^ 
17h;j,  r'Miriined  III  </'•  /«'7o  piistettHUHi  of  tl»n  dciert,  us  fur  as  a  dcHpri 
can  be  Maid  to  l»o  occiipied.  At  leiiKlli,  however,  llie  Htulo  of  Maine  invj. 
ded  this  (lehateiible  IhiuI.  and  several  eoiillietH  took  place,  wliieli  forutiiuD 
•eonied  likely  to  involve  Oreut  llritniii  and  Anierieu  in  a  |{''»''ral  war. 
The  coloniNti  sliuwed  great  alaeritv  and  deterniiii  ition  in  defem'ing  thfir 
right  to  the  (liHpiiied  territory  ;  :ui«l  it  waH  eventually  ajjreed  ihiii  |,„i|, 
parties  were  to  eoiitiniie  in  posseKHJoii  of  the  partn  «)c:<!t!pii:(j  by  thcin  re- 
■peetively  at  the  eommeiwiement  of  the  diHpnte,  until  thu  federal  guvurn. 
meiit  and  Oreat  Drilaiii  should  come  to  a  definitive  arrnii((enH  lit. 

The  proceeding's  of  parliament  had  lately  been  watched  with  intpfpst 
the  state  of  partii'S  beini;  too  nicely  balanced  to  insure  ministerial  niiijorj! 
ties.  On  thu  nth  of  April  leave  was  given  to  bring  in  a  bill,  on  the  motiuii 
of  Mr.  Lal)ouchere,  to  suspend  the  execiitivo  constitution  of  Jamaica.  Ii 
appi'iired  that,  in  consequeiice  of  a  dispiitn  between  the  governor  mid 
htMisr  of  assembly,  no  public  business  could  be  proceeded  with  ;  and  it 
was  proposed  by  this  bill  to  ve^t  the  governnient  in  the  governor  unA  n 
council  only— to  be  continued  for  five  years.  When  the  order  of  Mn  (!iyr 
for  going  into  committee  on  the  Jamaica  bill  was  moved,  it  was  oppi  ,  j 
by  Sir  Robert  Peel,  in  a  speech  in  which  he  exposed  thn  arbit.Mry  pro. 
visions  of  the  bill,  the  enormous  power  it  would  confer  on  tic  U'  'ernor 
and  commissioners,  and  the  impossibility  of  imposing  ;in  <  r.(  in.ii  check 
on  the  abuse  of  power  exercised  at  a  distance  of  thno  thousand  inilen. 
In  support  of  the  view  hi?  had  taken,  Sir  Robert  alluded  to  the  niodi!  of 
treating  refractory  colonies,  formerly  suggested  by  Mr.  Canning,  who  h;id 
declared  that  "  nothing  short  of  absolute  and  demonstrable  necissity 
should  induce  him  to  moot  the  awful  question  of  the  transcendental  pmvci 
of  parliament  over  every  depeiidencT  of  the  British  crown  ;  for  that  Iran 
cendental  power  was  an  arcaiuim  of  empire  whi«h  ought  to  be  kept  buck 
within  the  penetralia  of  the  constitution."  After  an  adjourned  debate,  May 
the  6th,  the  house  divided,  when  there  appeared  for  going  into  cominiHee 
294,  against  it  D89,  the  majority  for  minist/?rs  being  only  five.  The  next 
day  Lord  John  Russell  and  Lord  Melbourne  stated,  that  Jn  consequeiiie 
of  this  vote,  the  'luiiist;/  had  come  to  the  resolution  to  resi},ni,  it  being 
evident  that  with  such  a  want  of  confidence  on  the  part  of  so  large  a  pro- 
portion  of  members  in  the  house  of  commons,  and  the  well-known  oppo- 
sitioii  in  the  house  of  lords,  it  would  be  impossible  for  thcin  to  adniinisie* 
the  affairs  of  her  majesty's  government  in  a  manner  which  could  be  use- 
ful and  beneficial  to  the  country. 

The  fierce  and  cruel  contest'that  had  raged  for  the  last  three  years  in 
the  Spanish  peiiinHida,  between  the  Carlists  and  Christinos,  was  now  vir. 
tually  terminated  Jy  the  active  and  soldier-like  conduct  of  Kspurtero,  ilie 

aueen's  general  af.d  chief.     Tho  British  legion  had  sometime  since  with- 
rawn,  the  queen'f  p-irty  daily  gained  ground,  and  Don  Carlos  had  found 
it  necessary  tf>  seek  refuge  in  France. 

In  narrating  the  affairs  of  Britain,  it  will  be  observed  that  we  are  neces- 
BHrily  led,  from  time  to  lime,  to  advert  tu  the  events  which  take  place  in 
British  colonies  and  possessions,  wheiv^vci  ;,  Uiaie  and  however  distim' 
For  a  considerabli;  time  past  the  govp-iiiii'iit  "T  "  iia  had  I  iidopiing 
very  active  measures,  in  consequei  "  '■'  ''.-  uh  of  Per.>ia,  who  was 
raised  to  the  throne  mainly  by  British  us.'jistPi'ce,  being  supposed  to  be 
acting  under  Russian  infliipnee,  to  the  prgiidice  (»f  this  (rountry.  Stimu- 
lated by  Russia,  as  it  appeared,  the  Persian  undertook  an  expedition  to 
Herat,  an  important  place,  to  which  a  small  princinalitv  is  attached,  in 
the  territory  of  AflTghanistan.  Lord  Auckland,  the  governor-g^-iitiii,  Ji 
India,  thereupon  determined  to  send  an  army  of  thirty  thousand  men 
'oward?  Candahar,  Caboul,  and  Herat ;  and  this  force  was  to  be  join»> 


TIIR  IHKABIJHY  OV  UliiTUHY. 


743 


oy  about  forty-five  tlioUHiind  im-ii,  fiirnishod  l>y  Uuiijt'el  Smuh,  ihc  ituvt'- 
rt'iKii  of  tlic  I'liiijau  '  III  tilt'  iiK'iiiitiiiif  It  ii|i'>-Mrf(l  that  tlii>  i'tirni.iiiH  lia<l 
aiillrri'il  KTimI  loit!t  )t(  iii-ra(.  It  wiiM  hooii  aftcrwarilx  ruiiionri-ii  iti.ii  tin- 
cliirfH  of  Atl'Kliaiuiitriu  weir'  prfp.irt'il  to  iiiitI  a  imirh  sirunmT  furi  f  utii 
the  AiikIi*  l>i''">"  t{"'  ''>'»>n(<ut,  tliuiiuti  riMiifiiri'(>i|  by  Kiiiijci't  fiinKli.  i-ould 
liriiiif  into  llic  liflJ.  '  'i'.ai  '.luiy  Mu.jii  lottiii  to  no  teniia  of  acitMh.Motlii- 
ttdii.  T'lc  tit^t  acciiuiita,  lit>wever,  aniiodiiccil  llial  tin;  tirilisli  In,)  eu< 
ti.-ri'il  Caiulaliar,  ili  >(  lliv  diifii  i  "^s  cxpurifiii-t'd  with  n-M(H;L-l  to  provKioiM 
had  vaiiiNln!<l,  mill  lu.il  the  trjo  ;h  were  rercivi-d  wiili  uppu  aii(i>-  Sli«h 
Soujali  vvatf  cruwiit.'d  will)  aCJiaiiiatiuii ;  ntu.  llu;  army  procutdtid  fi«rlliwith 
10  Cabmil. 

On  llie '-'iHl  of  >>t'|>l'"inl)er  tiU'  fort  of  Jinidporo,  in  l<,ij|jooiaim,  wurrt'ii- 
derud  to  tli<!  Uriiiiili ;  and  tliul  uf  Kuiiianl,  iin  llut  Dt-ccan,  on  tlio  (>th  of 
October.  The  caiu|)  of  llie  rajali  wni*  atlatktd  by  liviici-Hl  VVilUbirt-, 
wliich  ended  ill  tli«;  total  rout  ol  tlie  eiieiity.  .\  very  Kr*  it  njii:tniity  of 
iiiilitHiy  storeH  were  found  in  Kiiriiaui,  and  treasure  aniouilinu:  lo  nearly 
1,1)00,1)1111/.  sterling.  In  the  eainp  un  iniint'iise  quantity  i;j  jt-wds  wa.s  eup- 
tured,  he.iides  1  J0,000/.  in  H()ceie,  The  shah  of  PerM.i  vt>ns<iited  lo  ae- 
kiiowled^u  Shah  Soujali  as  kini;  of  Afl'<fliainHtan  ;  but  l)i>8t  Mahomed,  tliu 
deposed  prince,  was  still  at  large,  and  there  was  do  doubi  that  .i  widely 
rainilied  coiispiraey  existed  ainorg  the  native  ciiiefs  to  rise  ugaiiiNi  the 
British  on  the  first  favourable  opportunitv. 

The  country  had  been  inucb  dihur'.'.v  during  the  year  by  large  and  tu- 
multuous assemblages  of  the  people,  oi  a  revolution  )ry  eliaracter,  under 
the  name  of  churtmls ;  and  many  exci>r<srs  were  eomiuittctl  Ivy  them  in  Iho 
large  manufacturing  towns  of  Mancliesi;r,  Uoitt  n,  Hinningliain,  Stock- 
port, &c.,  that  required  the  strong  arm  of  the  law  to  (  rb.  This  was  al- 
luded to  in  her  majesty's  speech,  at  the  cl«,s(!of  the  si  >sionof  parliament, 
as  the  tii'st  attempts  at  insubordination,  wli;ca  happily  lad  been  checked 
by  the  fearless  administration  of  the  law. 

On  the  lOlh  of  December  a  special  coinir'usion  was  li'  id  at  Munmoutb, 
for  the  trial  of  the  chartist  rebels  at  New|)ort,  before  1  trd-ehiil'-justice 
Tiiidal,  and  the  judges  Park  and  Williams,  the  chief-jusi  <  e  opciniig  the 
proceedings  witli  a  luminous  and  eloquent  charge  to  the  grand  jury.  Ac- 
cordingly, on  the  I'Jth,  true  bills  were  returned  against  Jolin  Frost,  (Hiurles 
Waters,  James  Aust,  William  Jones,  John  Lovell,  Zepha.nali  Williams, 
Jeiikin  Morgan,  Solomon  Britloii,  Edniond  Kdinon-Js,  lliehmrd  Uenfield, 
John  Rees,  David  Jones,  and  John  Terner  (otherwise  Coies),  for  high 
treason.  In  order  to  comply  with  the  forms  customary  in  liuls  for  high 
treason,  the  court  was  then  adjourned  to  Dec.  31,  when  Jo  n  Frost  waa 
put  to  the  bar.  The  first  day  was  occupied  in  challenging  the  jury; 
the  next  day  the  attorney-general  addressed  the  coi-rt  and  jury  on  the 
part  of  the  crown,  and  the  prisoner's  counsel  objeclc  J  lo  the  c  Uliiig  of  the 
witnesses,  in  consequence  of  the  li^t  of  thern  not  having  bn  n  given  to 
the  prisoner.  Frost,  agreeably  to  the  terms  of  the  s:',a'utev'u(j  the  third 
day  the  evidence  was  entered  into;  and  on  the  eigl.t'.i  d.iy,  afti  r  the  most 
jiutient  attention  of  the  court  and  jury,  a  verdict  cf  guilty  wis  recorded 
against  Frost,  with  recommendation  to  mercv.  The  trials  of  Williams, 
and  Jones  each  occupied  four  days,  with  a  like  verdict  and  rec  iminenda- 
tion.  Walters,  Morgan,  Rees,  Benfield,  ap.d  Lovell  pleaded  j,'  idty,  and 
received  sentence  of  death,  the  conn  i.vimatiii;j  that  they  would  be  trans- 

Korted  for  life.  Four  were  discharged,  two  forfeited  their  bail,  and  nine, 
aviiig  pleaded  guilty  to  charges  of  conspiracy  and  riot,  were  sentenced 
to  terms  of  imprisonment  not  exceeding  one  year.  Frost,  and  ihe  other 
ringleaders  on  whom  sentence  of  death  had  been  passed,  were  finally 
U-aiispifted  for  life. 

T:ie  -xpirit  of  chartism,  though  repressed,  was  not  subdued.     Sunday, 
lanuarv  l-llu  liad  been  fixed  on  for  outbreaks  in  various  parts  of  the  coun- 


74J 


THK  THKASURY  OP  HISTORY. 


try  ;  out  by  tin-  pnciulionary  measures  of  goveriiinent  and  the  police 
.'■nir  (It^siifiis  were  frustrated.  Iiiformiitioa  wjs  afterwards  rei;ei  I  tli;it 
the  ehartists  iiiteiuied  to  (ire  the  town  of  .Sheffield.  Tliey  began  to  asseii. 
ble,  but  troops  arid  constables  beiiij^  on  the  alert,  they  succeeded  intakiiio 
the  ringleaders,  but  not  before  several  persons  were  wounded,  three  ol 
whom  were  policemen.  An  imnn use  quantity  of  fire-arms,  bail-car 
tridges,  iron  bullets,  hand-grenades,  fire-balls,  daggers,  pikes,  and  swords 
were  found,  together  with  a  quantity  of  crowfeet  for  disabling  horses 
The  ringleaders  were  committed  to  York  castle,  and  at  the  ensuing  as- 
sizes were  tried,  found  guilty,  and  sentenced  to  various  terms  of  impris 
onment,  of  one,  two,  and  three  years.  At  the  same  lime  four  of  the  Bnd 
ford  chartists  were  sentenced  to  three  years'  imprisonment,  and  three  from 
Barnsley  for  the  term  of  two  years.  At  the  same  assizes,  Feaigus  O'Con- 
nor was  convicted  of  having  published,  in  the  Northern  Star  newspaper 
'f  which  he  was  the  editor  and  proprietor,  certain  seditious  libels;  and 
the  noted  demagogue  orators,  Vincent  and  Edwards,  who  were  at  the 
time  undergoing  a  former  sentence  in  prison,  were  convicted  at  Monmouth 
of  a  conspiracy  to  effect  great  changes  in  the  government  by  illegal 
means,  fee,  and  were  severally  sentenced  to  a  further  imprisonment  of 
twelve  and  fourteen  months,  in  various  other  places,  also,  London  amoii" 
the  rest,  chartist  conspirators  were  Ir'wd  and  punished  for  their  misdeeds" 

A.  D.  1840. — For  the  space  of  two  years  and  a  half  the  British  sceptre 
liad  been  swayed  by  a  "  virgin  queen;"  it  was  therefore  by  no  means  sur- 
prising that  her  majesty  should  at  length  consider  that  the  cares  of  regal 
state  might  be  rendered  more  supportable  if  shared  by  a  consort.  That 
such,  indeed,  had  been  Uw  subject  of  her  royal  musings,  was  soon  made 
evident;  for,  on  the  IGih  of  January,  she  met  her  parliament,  and  com. 
menced  her  most  gracious  speech  with  the  following  plain  and  unalfeciec' 
sentence  : — "  .My  lords  and  gentlemen :  Since  you  were  last  assembled 
1  have  declared  my  intention  of  allying  myself  in  marriage  with  the  prince 
Albert  of  Saxe-Cobourg  and  Gotiia.  I  humbly  implore  that  the  Divine 
blessing  may  prosper  this  union,  and  render  it  conducive  to  the  interests 
of  my  people,  as  well  as  to  my  own  domestic  happiness." 

There  could  be  no  reasonable  ground  for  caviling  at  her  majesty's 
choice.  The  rank,  age,  character,  and  connexions  of  the  prince,  were  all 
in  his  favour;  and  the  necessary  arrangements  were  made  without  loss 
of  time.  A  naturalization  bill  for  his  royal  highness  was  immediately 
passed  ;  and  Lord  John  Russell  moved  a  resolution  authorizing  her  maj- 
esty to  grant  fifty  thousand  pounds  a  year  to  the  prince  for  his  life.  This 
was  generally  tliought  to  be  more  than  sufficient,  and  Mr.  Hume  movej 
as  an  amendment,  that  the  grant  be  twenty-one  thousand  pounds  ;  how- 
ever, on  a  division  there  was  a  majority  of  2G7  against  the  ainendent. 
Upon  this,  Colonel  Sibthorp  moved  a  second  amendment,  snbsiiiutiiKr 
thirty  thousand  pounds,  which  was  supported  by  Mr.  Goulburn,  Sir  J.  UrZ 
ham,  and  Sir  R.  Peel,  who  considered  thirty  thousand  pounds  a  just  ami 
liberal  allowance  for  the  joint  lives  of  the  queen  and  the  prince,  and  for 
the  prince's  possible  survivorship,  should  there  be  no  issue  ;  if  an  heir 
should  be  born,  then  the  thirty  thousand  might  properly  be  advanced  to 
fifty  thousand  pounds ;  and,  should  there  be  a  numerous  issue,  it  would 
be  reasonable  to  make  a  still  further  increase,  such  as  would  befit  the 
father  of  a  large  family  of  royal  children. 

On  the  (Jth  of  the  ensuing  month,  the  bridegroom-elect,  conducted  by 
Viscou:it  Torringlou,  and  accompanied  by  the  duke  his  father,  and  his 
elder  brother,  arrived  at  Dover;  and  on  the  10lli"the  marriage  of  tlio 
queen's  most  excellent  majesty  with  the  field-marshal  his  royal  highness 
Francis  Vlh  rt  Augustus  Charles  Emanuel,  duke  of  Saxe,  prince  of  Saxe- 
Cobourg  and  Gotha,  K.  G.,  was  solemnized  at  the  chapel-royal,  St. 
laiues'."     The  processions  of  the  royal  bride  and  bridegroom  were  con- 


THE  THEASURY  OP  HIdTC»I!Y 


745 


fluded  in  a  style  of  Hplemluur  suitable  to  the  occasion.  The  duke  of 
Sussex  gave  away  his  royal  niece;  and  at  thai  part  of  ihe  service  where 
the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  read  the  words,  "  I  pronounce  that  they  be 
man  and  wife  loirelher,"  the  park  and  Tower  guns  fired.  In  ttie  afternoon 
her  majesty  and  the  prince  proceeded  to  Windsor  castle,  a  banquet  was 
given  at  St.  James'  palace  to  the  menibers  of  the  household,  which  was 
honoured  by  the  presence  of  the  duchess  of  Kent,  and  the  rei'^ning  duke 
and  hereditary  prince  of  Saxe-Cobourg,  and  the  day  was  universuUy  kept 
as  a  holiday  throughout  the  country;  grand  dinners  were  given  by  the 
cabinet  ministers,  and  in  the  evening  the  splendid  illnniinalion  of  the  me- 
tropolis gave  additional  eclat  to  the  hymeneal  rejoicings. 

For  many  months  past  there  had  been  an  interruption  to  those  relations 
of  amity  and  commerce  which  for  a  long  period  had  been  maintained  be- 
tween Kngland  and  China.  It  originated  in  the  determination  on  the 
part  of  the  Chinese  government  to  put  an  end  to  the  importation  of  opium 
into  the  "  celestial  empire,"  and  the  opposition  made  to  that  decree  by 
British  merchants  engaged  in  that  traffic.  Early  in  the  oreceding  year  a 
lari^e  quantity  of  opium,  belonging  to  British  merohynts,  was  given  up, 
on"he  requisition  of  Mr.  Elliot,  the  queen's  representati'-c  ai  Canton,  to 
be  destroyed  by  the  Chinese  authorities.  The  quantity  seized  was  twenty 
thousand  chests,  supposed  to  be  worth  =£2,000,000 :  and  Mr.  Elliot 
pledged  the  faith  of  the  goverment  he  represented;  tha:  iV.c  Siier-ihanta 
should  receive  compensation. 

The  English  government  was  naturally  desirous  to  keep  on  good  terms 
with  a  country  from  which  so  many  commercial  advantages  had  been 
derived ;  but  the  Chinese  authorities  daily  grew  more  arrogant  and  un- 
reasonable, and  several  outrages  against  the  English  were  committed 
At  length,  in  an  affray  between  some  seamen  of  the  Volage  and  the  Chi- 
nese, one  of  the  latter  was  killed  ;  and  on  Captain  Elliot  having  refused 
to  deliver  up  the  homicide  to  Commissioner  Lin,  the  most  severe  and  ar- 
bitrary  measures  were  immediately  taken  to  expel  all  the  British  inhabi- 
tants from  Macao.  This  iiostile  condu(!t  was  quickly  followed  by  an  out- 
rage of  a  still  more  serious  character.  The  Black  Joke,  having  on  board 
one  passenger,  a  Mr.  Moss,  and  six  Lascars,  was  obliged  to  anchor  in 
the  Lantaod  passage,  to  wait  for  the  tide.  Here  she  was  surrounded  by 
three  mandarin  boats,  by  whose  crews  she  was  boarded,  five  of  the  Las- 
cars butchered,  and  Mr.  Moss  shockingly  mutilated.  These  proceedings 
gave  rise  to  further  measures  of  hostility.  On  the  4th  September,  Cap- 
tain Elliot  came  from  Hong  Kong  to  Macao  in  his  cutter,  in  company  with 
the  schooner  Pearl,  to  obtain  provisions  for  the  fleet.  The  mandarins, 
however,  on  board  the  war-junks,  opposed  their  embarkation,  when  Cap- 
tain Elliot  intimated  that  if  in  half  an  hour  the  provisions  were  not  allow- 
ed to  pass,  he  would  open  a  fire  upon  them.  The  half  hour  passed,  and 
the  gun  was  fired.  Three  war-junks  then  endeavoured  to  put  to  sea,  but 
were  compelled  by  a  well-directed  fire  of  the  cutter  and  the  Pearl  to  seek 
shelter  under  the  walls  of  Coloon  fort.  About  six  o'clock  the  Volage 
frigate  hove  in  sight,  and  the  boat  of  Captain  Douglas,  with  twenty-four 
British  seamen,  attempted  to  board  the  junk,  but  without  success.  The 
boat's  crew  then  opened  a  fire  of  musketry,  by  which  a  mandarin  and  four 
Chinese  soldiers  were  killed,  and  seven  wounded.  The  result,  however, 
was,  that  the  provisions  were  not  obtained,  and  that  the  Chinese  junks 
escaped;  while,  instead  of  any  approach  to  a  better  understanding  be- 
tween the  two  countries,  it  was  regarded  rather  as  the  commencement 
of  a  war,  which,  indeed,  the  next  news  from  China  confirmed. 

On  'he  appearance  of  another  British  ship,  the  Thomas  Coutts,  at 
Whampoa,  Commissioner  Lin  renewed  his  demand  for  the  surrender  o' 
the  murderer  of  the  Chinese,  and  issued  an  edict  commanding  all  British 
ships  to  enter  the  port  of  Canton  and  sign  the  opium  bond,  or  to  deuart 


H 


746 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


from  the  coast  immediatoly.  Tii  case  of  noncompliance  with  either  of 
these  conditions,  within  three  days,  the  commissioner  declared  he  would 
destroy  the  entire  British  fleet.  On  the  publication  of  this  edict,  Captain 
Elliot  demanded  an  explanation  from  the  Chinese  admiral,  Kiiwn,  wiio 
at  first  pretended  to  enter  into  a  negotiation,  but  immediately  afterwarii 
ordered  out  twenty-nine  war-junks,  evidently  intending  to  surround  the 
British  ships.  The  attempt  ended  in  five  of  the  junks  being  sunk,  and 
another  blown  up,  each  with  from  150  to  200  men  on  board,  and  on  tlie 
rest  making  off,  Captain  Elliot  ordered  the  firing  to  cease. 

A  decree  was  now  issued  by  the  emperor  prohibiting  the  importation  of 
all  British  goods,  and  the  trade  with  China,  was  consequently  at  an  end; 
but  the  Americau  ships  arrived  and  departed  as  usual.  In  the  meai,time 
preparations  on  a  large  scale  were  making  in  India  to  collect  and  send 
a  large  force  to  China,  so  as  to  bring  this  important  quarrel  to  an  issue. 
Several  men-of-war  and  corvettes,  from  England,  and  various  stalionsj 
were  got  ready,  and  the  command  given  to  Admiral  Elliot  to  give  the 
expedition  all  the  co-operation  possible. 

A  great  sensation  was  caused  in  the  public  mind  by  an  attempt  to  as- 
sassinate  the  queen.  On  tlie  lOlli  of  June,  as  her  majesty  was  staitinir  for 
an  evening  drive,  up  Consiitution-hill,  in  a  low  open  carriage,  accompa- 
nied by  Prince  Albert,  a  young  man  deliberaletly  fired  two  pistols  at  her 
but  happily  without  effect.  His  name  proved  to  be  Edward  Oxford,  the 
son  of  a  widow  who  formerly  kept  a  coffee-shop  in  Southwark.  He  was 
about  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  had  been  lately  employed  as  a  pot-boy  ia 
Oxfyrd-street,  but  was  out  of  place.  He  was  instantly  seized,  and  sent 
to  Newgate  on  a  charge  of  high  treason ;  but  it  appeared  on  his  trial  that 
there  were  grounds  for  attributing  the  act  to  insanity,  and  as  there  was  no 
proof  that  the  pistols  were  loaded,  the  jury  returned  a  verdict  of "  guilty, 
but  that  at  the  time  he  committed  the  act  he  was  insane."  Tlie  conse- 
quence was,  that  he  became  an  inmate  of  Beihlem  for  life,  as  was  the 
case  with  Hatfield,  who  forty  years  before  fired  off  a  pistol  at  George 
HI.,  in  Drury-lane  theatre. 

The  murder  of  Lord  William  Russell  by  Courvoisier,  his  Swiss  valet, 
had  just  before  excited  considerable  interest.  The  crime  was  committed 
at  his  lordship's  residence  in  Norfolk-street,  Park-lane,  early  in  tlie  night, 
and  the  murderer  had  employed  the  remainder  of  the  night  in  carefully 
destroying  all  marks  which  could  cast  suspicion  upon  himself,  and  in 
throwing  the  house  into  a  state  of  confusion,  in  order  that  it  might  bear 
the  appearance  of  having  been  broken  into  by  burglars.  Nor  would  it 
have  been  an  easy  matter  to  have  convicted  him  on  circumstantial  evi- 
deuce,  had  not  a  missing  parcel  of  plate  been  discovered  on  the  very  day 
the  trial  commenced,  whicii  it  appeared  he  had  left  some  days  before  the 
murd(  r  with  Madame  Piolane,  the  keeper  of  a  hotel  in  Leicester-square. 

It  is  some  time  since  we  had  occasion  to  notice  anything  relative  to 
French  affairs;  but  an  event  transpired  in  August  whicli  we  cannot  well 
omit.  On  the  6th  of  that  month,  Louis  Napoleon,  (sou  of  the  late  king 
of  Holland,  and  heir  male  of  the  Bonaparte  family),  made  an  absurd 
attempt  to  effect  a  hostile  descent  upon  the  coast  of  France.  He  em- 
barked from  London  in  the  Edinburgh  Castle  steamer,  which  he  had  hired 
from  the  Commercial  Steam  Navigation  Company,  as  for  a  voyage  of 
pleasure,  accompanied  by  ab(>ut  fifty  men,  including  General  iMontiioloii, 
colonels  Voisen,  Laborde,  Montauban,  and  Parquin,  and  several  oilier 
officers  of  inferior  rank.  They  landed  at  a  small  port  about  two  leagues 
from  Boulogne,  to  which  town  they  immediately  marched,  and  arrived 
at  the  barracks  about  five  o'clock,  just  as  the  soldiers  of  the  42d  regiment 
of  the  line  were  rising  from  their  beds.  At  first  the  soldiers  were  a  little 
staggered,  as  they  understood  a  revolution  had  taken  place  in  Paris,  and 
they  were  summoned  to  join  the  imperial  eagle.     One  of  their  officers 


THE  TaKASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


74: 


however,  having  hurried  to  the  barracks,  soon  relieved  tun  men  from 
their  per()lexily,  and  they  acknowledfjed  his  authority.  Louis  Napoleon 
drew  a  pistol,  and  attempted  to  shoot  the  inopportune  intruder ;  but  Hie 
shot  took  effect  upon  a  soldier,  who  died  llie  same  day.  Finding  them- 
selves thus  foiled,  the  Bonapartists  took  the  Calais  road  lo  the  colonne 
de  Napoleon,  upon  the  top  of  which  they  placed  their  flag  The  town 
authorities  and  national  guard  then  went  in  pursuit  of  the  prince,  who, 
being  intercepted  on  the  side  of  the  column,  made  for  the  beach,  with  a 
view  to  embark  and  regain  the  packet  in  which  he  had  arrived.  He  took 
possession  of  the  life-boat ;  but  scarcely  had  his  followers  got  into  it  when 
the  national  guard  also  arrived  on  the  beach  and  discharged  a  volley  on 
the  boat,  which  immediately  upset,  and  the  whole  company  were  seen 
struggling  in  the  sea.  In  the  meantime  the  steam-packet  was  already 
taken  possession  of  by  the  lieutenant  of  the  port.  The  prince  was  then 
made  prisoner,  and  about  three  hours  after  his  attempt  on  Boulogne,  he 
and  i.is  followers  were  safely  lodged  in  the  castle.  From  Boulogne  he 
was  removed  to  the  castle  of  Ham,  and  placed  in  the  rooms  once  occu- 
pied by  Prince  Polignac.  On  being  tried  and  found  guilty,  Louis  Napo- 
leon was  sentenced  to  perpetual  imprisonment  in  a  fortress  ;  Count  iMon- 
tholon,  twenty  years'  detention  ;  Parquin  and  Lombard,  the  same  period  ; 
others  were  sentenced  to  shorter  periods;  Aldenize  was  transported  for 
life,  and  some  were  acquitted. 

This  insane  attempt  to  excite  a  revolution  probably  owed  its  origin  to 
the  "liberal"  permission  granted  by  Louis  Philippe,  and  the  no  less  lib- 
eral acquiescence  of  the  FiHglish  ministers,  to  allow  the  ashes  of  the  em- 
peror Napoleon  to  be  removed  from  St.  Helena,  that  they  might  find  theii 
last  resting-place  in  France.    This  had  undoubtedly  raised  the  hopes  of 
many  a  zealous  Bonapartist,  who  thought  that  the  fervour  of  the  populace 
was  likely  to  display  itself  in  a  violent  emenle,  which  the  troops  would  be 
more  ready  to  favour  than  to  quell.     A  grant  of  a  million  of  francs  had 
been  made  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  expedition  to  St.  Helena  (which 
was  to  be  under  the  command  of  Prince  de  .loinville),  the  funeral  cere- 
moiiy,  and  the  erection  of  a  tomb  in  the  church  of  the  Invulides  ;  so  that, 
in  the  language  of  the  French  minister  of  the  interior,  "  his  tomb,  like  his 
glory,  should  belong  to  his  country."    The  prince  arrived  at  Clieibourg, 
with  his  "precious  charge,"  on  the  30th  of  November;  and  on  the  15th 
of  December  Napoleon's  remains  were  honoured  by  a  splendid  funeral 
procession,  the  king  and  royal  family  being  present  at  the  ceremony,  with 
sixty  lliousand  naiional  guards  in  attendance,  and  an  assemblage  of  five 
hundred  thousand  persons.     It  was  observed  at  the  time  of  Bonaparte's 
exhumation,  that  his  features  were  so  little  changed  that  his  face  was 
recognized  by  those  who  had  known  him  when  alive  ;  and  the  uniform, 
llie  orders,  and  the  hat  which  had  been  buried  with  him,  were  very  littii' 
changed.     It  was  little  contemplated  when  the  body  was  deposited  in 
"  Napoleon's  Valley,"  at  St.  Helena,  that  it  would  ever  be  removed  ;  nay, 
"t  seems  that  especial  care  was  taken  to  prevent  such  an  occurrence  ;  for 
(ve  read,  that  after  having  taken  away  the  iron  railing  which  surrounded 
.he  tomb,  "  they  then  removed  three  ranges  of  masonry,  and  came  to  a 
'ault  eleven  feet  deep,  nearly  filled  with  clay ;  a  bed  of  Roman  cement 
hen  [treseiited  itself,  and  underneath  was  another  bed,  ten  fnet  deep, 
jound  tusiether  with  bauds  of  iron.     A  covering  of  masonry  was  then  dis- 
covered, five  feet  deep,  forming  the  covering  of  the  sarcophagus." 

We  conclude  this  year's  occurrences  with  the  accouchement  of  her 
majesty,  Queer<  Victoria,  who  on  the  21sl  of  November  gave  birth  at 
Buckingham  palace  to  a  princess,  her  first-born  child  ;  and  on  the  lOlh  of 
Tehruary  the  lifanl  princess-royal  was  christened  Victoria  Adelaide 
Mary  Louisa. 
A.  U.1S41.— During  the  past  yea-- the  attention  of  the  great  European 


•«!' 


748 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


pownrs  had  been  drawn  to  the  condition  of  Syria  and  Turkey,  and  an 
allianco  \v:is  entered  into  hetwcon  Kngland,  Russia,  Austria  and  Prussia 
to  put  an  end  to  the  dispute  which  existed  between  the  suilaii  and  Me! 
hemet  Ali,  the  warlike  pacha  of  K;,'ypt.  For  this  purpose  it  was  deemed 
expeihcnt  to  dispatch  a  fleet  to  the  Mediterranean;  and  on  the  11th  of 
August  Commodore  Napier  summoned  the  Egyptian  authorities  to  evacu- 
ate Syria.  In  reply  to  this  summons,  Mehemot  Ali  declared  that  on  the  first 
appearance  of  hostility  by  the  powers  of  Europe,  the  pacha,  Ibrahim,  would 
be  commanded  to  march  on  Constantinople.  Soon  afterwards  hostiliijes 
commenced,  and  the  town  of  Beyrout  was  bombarded  on  the  11th  of  Sep- 
tember,  and  completely  destroyed  by  the  allies  in  two  hours.  The  war 
in  Syria  was  now  carried  on  with  great  activity.  The  troops  of  Ibrahim 
sustained  a  signal  defeat  early  in  (October,  with  a  loss  jf  seven  thousand 
in  killed,  wounded,  and  prisoners;  in  additiim  to  which,  Commodore  Na- 
pier, with  a  comparatively  trifling  number  of  marines  and  Turkish  troops, 
succeeded  in  expelling  the  Egyptians  from  nearly  the  whole  of  Lebanon' 
captured  about  five  thousand  prisoners,  with  artillery  and  stores,  and 
elTectcd  the  disorganization  of  an  army  of  twenty  thousand  men.  In 
short,  more  brilliant  results  with  such  limited  means  have  rarely  been 
known,  particularly  when  it  is  considered  under  what  novel  circumstan- 
ces they  were  accomplished.     But  the  great  exploit  remains  to  be  related. 

St.  Jean  d'Acre  was  taken  by  the  allies  on  the  3d  of  November.  CoK 
onel  Smith,  who  commanded  the  forces  in  Syria,  directed  Omar  Bey, 
with  two  thousand  Turks,  to  advance  on  Tyre,  and  occupy  the  passes  to' 
the  northward  of  Acre;  in  the  meantime  Admiral  Stopford  sailed  from 
Beyrout  roads,  having  on  board  three  thousand  Turks,  and  detachments 
of  English  artillery  and  sappers.  The  forces  and  fleet  arrived  oflT  Acra  at 
the  same  time.  At  two  o'clock  P.  M.  a  tremendous  cannonade  took 
place,  wiiich  was  maintained  without  intermission  for  some  hours,  the 
steamers  lying  outside  throwing,  with  astonishing  rapidity,  their  shells 
over  the  ships  into  the  fortification.  During  the  bombardment  the  arsenal 
and  magazine  blew  up,  annihilating  upwards  of  twelve  hundred  of  the 
enemy,  forming  two  entire  regiments,  who  were  drawn  up  on  the  ram- 
parts. A  sensation  was  felt  on  boart!  the  ships  similar  to  that  of  an  earth- 
quake. Every  living  creature  within  the  area  of  sixty  thousand  sijuare 
yards  ceased  to  exist.  At  two  o'clock  on  the  following  morniiif:  ,i  boat 
arrived  from  Acre,  to  announce  that  the  remainder  of  the  garrison  were 
leaving  the  place,  and  as  soon  as  the  sun  rose,  the  British,  Austrian,  and 
Turkish  flags  were  seen  waving  on  the  citadel.  The  town  was  found  to 
be  one  mass  of  ruins — the  batteries  and  houses  riddled  all  over— killed 
and  wounded  lying  about  in  all  directions.  The  slain  were  estimated  at 
twenty-five  hundred  men,  and  the  prisoners  amounted  to  upwards  of  three 
thousand.  The  Turkish  troops  were  landed  to  garrison  Acre,  where  a 
vast  quantity  of  military  stores  were  found,  besides  an  'excellent  park  of 
artillery  of  "200  guns,  and  a  large  sum  in  specie. 

As  the  foregoing  successes  led  to  the  termination  of  the  war  in  Syria, 
and  its  evacuation  by  Ibrahim  Pacha,  it  is  unnecessary  to  speak  of  oper- 
ations of  a  minor  character.  Mehemet  Ali  eventually  submitted  to  all  the 
conditions  offered  by  the  sultan,  and  which  were  sanctioned  by  the  repre- 
sentatives of  Austria,  France,  Great  Britain,  Prussia,  and  Russia  :— 
1.  The  hereditary  possession  of  Egypt  is  confirmed  lo  Mehemet  Ali,  and 
his  descrcndants  in  a  direct,  line. — 2.  Mehemet  Ali  will  be  allowed  to  nom- 
inate liis  own  oflficers  up  lo  tiie  rank  of  a  colonel.  The  viceroy  can  only 
confer  the  title  of  pacha  with  the  consent  of  the  sultan. — 3.  The  annual 
contribution  is  fixed  at  80,000  purses,  or  40,000,000  of  piastres,  or  400,000/. 
—4.  T;»e  viceroy  will  not  be  allowed  lo  build  asliip  of  war  without  the 
permission  oi  the  sultan. — 5.  The  laws  and  regulations  of  the  empire  are 
to  be  observed  in  Egypt,  with  such  changes  as  the  peculiarity  of  the 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


749 


Egyptian  people  may  render  necessary,  but  which  changes  must  receive 
the  sanction  of  the  Porte. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  year  news  was  brought  from  China  that 
the  diflferences  which  had  existed  were  in  a  fair  train  of  setUemral,  and 
Ihat  the  vvar  might  be  considered  as  at  an  end.  Hostilities  had,  however, 
rccommenceiJ,  in  consequence  of  Keshen,  the  imperial  commi-ssioner, 
liavin"  delayed  to  bring  to  a  conclusion  the  negotiations  entered  into  with 
CaptaTn  Klliol.  Preparations  were  accordingly  made  for  attacking  the 
outposts  of  the  Bogue  forts,  on  the  Bocoa  Tigris.  Having  obtained  pos- 
session, the  steamers  were  sent  to  destroy  the  war-junks  in  Anson's  bay  ; 
but  the  shallowness  of  the  water  admitted  only  the  approach  of  the 
Nemesis,  towing  ten  or  twelve  boats.  The  junks  endeavoured  to  escape, 
but  a  rocket  blew  up  the  powdsr  magazine  of  one  of  them,  and  eighteen 
more  which  were  set  on  fire  by  the  Knglish  boats' crews  also  successively 
blew  up.  At  length  a  flag  of  truce  was  dispatched  by  the  Chinese  com- 
mander, and  hostilities  ceased.  On  the  20th  of  January  Captain  Elliot 
announced  to  her  majesty's  subjects  in  China  that  the  following  arrange- 
ments had  been  made  :  1.  The  cession  of  the  island  and  harbour  of  Hong 
Kong  to  the  British  crown.  2.  An  indemnity  to  the  British  government 
of  $0,000,000,  $1,000,000  payable  at  once,  and  the  remainder  in  equal 
annual  instalments,  ending  in  181ti.  3.  Direct  official  intercourse  between 
the  two  countries  upon  an  equal  fooling.  4.  The  trade  of  the  port  of 
('anton  to  be  opened  within  ten  days  after  the  Chinese  new  year. 

Thus  far  all  appeared  as  it  should  be ;  but  great  doubts  of  the  sincerity 
of  Keshen,  the  Chinese  commissioner,  were  felt  both  in  England  and 
at  Canton.  Accordingly  the  Nemesis  steamer  was  sent  up  the  river  to 
reconnoitre,  and  on  nearing  the  Bogue  forts  (30  in  number),  it  was  discov- 
ered that  preparations  for  defence  had  been  made,  batteries  and  field-works 
had  been  thrown  up  along  the  shore,  and  upon  the  islands  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  river,  a  barrier  was  in  course  of  construction  across  the 
channel,  and  there  were  large  bodies  of  troops  assembled  from  the  in- 
terior. Keshen  finding  his  duplicity  discovered,  communicated  th:it 
further  negotiations  would  be  declined.  The  emperor,  it  appeared,  had 
issued  edicts  repudiating  the  treaty,  and  denouncing  the  English  barbari- 
ans, "  who  were  like  dogs  and  sheep  in  their  dispositions."  That  in 
sleeping  or  eating  he  found  no  quiet,  and  he  therefore  ordered  eight  thou- 
sand of  his  best  troops  to  defend  Canton,  and  to  recover  the  places  on  the 
coast ;  for  it  was  absolutely  necessary  (said  the  emperor),  "  that  the  rebel- 
lious foreigners  must  give  up  their  heads,  which,  with  the  prisoners,  were 
to  be  sent  to  Pekin  in  cages,  to  undergo  the  last  penalty  of  the  law."  He 
also  offered  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  the  apprehension  of  Elliot,  Morison, 
or  Bermer  alive,  or  thirty  thousand  dollars  for  either  of  their  heads.  In 
addition,  five  thousand  dollars  for  an  officer's  head,  five  hundred  for  an 
Englishman  alive,  three  hundred  for  a  head,  and  one  hundred  for  a  Sepoy 
ahve.  The  emperor  also  delivered  Keshen  in  irons  over  to  the  board  ol 
inmishment  at  rekin,  and  divested  the  admiral  Kwan  Teenpei  of  his  but- 
ton. Before  the  hostile  edicts  had  appeared.  Captain  Elliot,  confidin;;;  in 
the  good  faith  of  Keshen,  had  sent  orders  to  General  Burrel  to  restore 
liie  island  of  Chusan  (which  the  English  had  taken  many  months  before), 
ii»  the  Chinese,  and  to  return  with  the  Bengal  volunteers  to  Calcutta. 
This  order  had  been  promptly  obeyed,  Chusan  having  been  evacualei! 
February  29. 

Captain  Elliot  set  sail  on  Feb.  20,  up  the  Ciuiton  river.  On  tlie  24ttt 
lie  destroyed  a  masked  field-work,  disabling  eighty  cannon  there  mounted, 
(ill  the  25ih  and  26th  he  took  three  adjoining  Bogue  forts,  without  losing 
a  man,  killing  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  Chinese,  and  taking  one  thou- 
sand three  hundred  prisoners.  The  subsequent  operations  of  the  squad 
ron  presented  one  unbroken  succession  of  brilliant  achievements,  until,  on 


m 


-p  j-^Y'^iC  ,'*!iy.^7^"t^"^T'!Rirr'~ 


7aO 


THE  TllKASURY  OF  lilSTOUY. 


the  28th  ol  March,  Canton,  the  second  city  in  the  Chinese  empire,  con 
laininjr  a  milhoti  of  souls,  was  placed  at  the  mercy  of  the  British  troops 
Kvery  possible  means  of  defence  had  been  used  by  the  Chinese  cominiiu,]! 
ers,  but  nothing  could  withstand  the  intrepidity  of  the  British.  In  con. 
sequence  of  the  Chinese  firinjf  on  a  flag  of  truce,  the  forts  and  defences  of 
Canton  were  speedily  taken,  the  flotilU  burnt  or  sunk,  and  the  union  juck 
hoisted  on  the  walls  of  the  British  factory.  But  Captain  Elliot  secnied 
doomed  to  be  made  the  sport  of  Chinese  duplicity.  He  no  sooner  issiip^ 
a  eiri  ular  to  the  English  and  foreign  merchants,  announcing  that  a  siis. 
pension  of  hostilities  had  been  agreed  on  between  the  Chinese  commis- 
sioner Yang,  and  himself,  and  that  the  trade  was  open  at  Canton  and 
would  be  duly  respected,  than  the  emperor  issued  another  prorlaniation 
ordering  all  communication  with  "  the  detestable  brood  of  English"  to  bn 
:ut  off.  Several  other  imperial  proclamations  in  a  more  furious  siyle  foU 
.owed,  the  last  of  which  thus  concludes  :  "  If  the  whole  number  of  them 
v^the  English),  be  not  effectually  destroyed,  how  shall  I,  the  emperor,  he 
able  to  answer  to  the  gods  of  the  heaven  and  the  earth,  and  cherish  the 
hopes  of  our  people."  Captain  Elliot,  however,  whose  great  object  hith- 
erto appears  to  have  been  to  secure  the  annual  export  of  tea,  had  succeed- 
ed  in  having  11,000,000  lbs.  shipped  before  the  fulminating  edicts  of  the 
emperor  took  effect. 

In  October,  dispatches  of  importance  were  received  from  General  Sir 
Hugh  Gough,  commanding  the  land  forces,  and  Captain  Sir  H.  F.  Seii- 
louse,  the  senior  naval  officer  of  the  fleet,  detailing  a  series  of  brilliant 
>perations  against  Canton,  whither  they  had  proceeded  by  the  direction 
ii  Captain  Elliot.  On  the  20th  of  May  the  contest  began  by  the  Chinese 
firing  on  the  Briiish  ships  and  letting  loose  some  fire-ships  among  'hem, 
which,  however,  did  no  damage.  Next  morning  the  fort  of  Shaming  was 
silenced,  and  a  fleet  of  about  forty  junks  burnt.  On  the  24lh,  a  favourable 
ianding-place  having  been  discovered,  the  right  column  of  the  26ih  rogj. 
ment,  under  Major  Pratt,  was  convoyed  by  the  Atalanta  to  act  on  the 
south  of  the  city,  while  the  Nemesis  towed  the  left  column  up  to  Tsin- 
ghae.  After  some  sharp  fighting,  the  Canton  governor  yielded,  and  the 
troops  and  ships  were  withdrawn,  on  condition  of  the  three  commissionprs 
and  ail  the  troops  under  them  leaving  Canton  and  its  vicinity,  and  six  mil- 
lions of  dollars  to  be  paid  within  a  week,  the  first  million  before  evenint- 
ihat  day ;  if  the  whole  was  not  paid  before  the  end  of  the  week,  the  ransom 
was  to  be  raised  to  seven  millions  ;  if  not  before  the  end  of  fourteen  days, 
to  eight  millions ;  and  if  not  before  twenty  days,  to  nine  millions  of  dollars. 
After  three  days,  the  conditions  having  been  fulfilled,  the  troops  left  fur 
Hong  Kong,  having  had  thirteen  men  killed  and  ninety-seven  wounded. 
Sir  H.  F.  Senhouse  died  on  board  of  the  Blenheim  from  a  fever  brought 
on  by  excessive  fatigue.  Notwithstanding  this  defeat,  the  Chinese  w°rfi 
still  deterinined  to  resist,  and  Yeh  Shan  had  reported  to  the  emperor,  bis 
uncle,  that  when  he  had  induced  the  barbarians  to  withdraw,  he  would 
repair  all  the  forts  again.  The  emperor,  on  his  part,  declared  that,  as  a 
last  resort,  he  would  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his  army,  and  march  to 
India  and  England,  and  tear  up  the  English,  root  and  branch  ! 

Sir  Henry  rottinger,  the  new  plenipotentiary,  and  Rear-admiral  Parker, 
the  new  naval  commander-in-chief,  arrived  at  Macao  on  the9lhof  Angiist 
A.  notification  of  Sir  Henry's  presence  and  powers  was  sent  to  Canton 
imnediately  on  his  arrival,  accompanied  by  a  letter  forwarded  to  the  em- 
peror at  Pekin,  the  answer  to  which  was  required  to  be  sent  to  a  northern 
station.  The  fleet,  consisting  of  nine  ships  of  war,  four  armed  steamers, 
and  twenty-two  transports,  sailed  for  the  island  and  fortified  city  of  Amoy, 
on  tiie  21st  of  August. 

This  island  is  situated  in  a  fine  gulf  in  the  province  of  Fokein,  the  ijrrrt 
tea  district  of  China,  opposite  the  island  of  Formosa,  and  about  thrw 


city. 


THE  TREASURY  OF  HISTORY. 


761 


(undred  and  fifty  miles  northeast  of  the  gulf  of  Canton,  five  hundred  miles 
Bouth  of  Chusan,  and  one  thousand  tliree  hundred  miles  from  Pekin.  It 
was  fortified  by  very  strong  defences,  of  granite  rocks  faced  with  mud, 
and  mounted  with  no  less  than  fi#e  hundred  pieces  of  cannon.  On  the 
26lh,  after  a  brief  parity  with  a  mandarin,  the  city  was  bombarded  for 
two  hours.  Sir  Hugh  Gough,  with  the  18th  regiment,  then  liinded,  and 
seized  one  end  of  the  long  battery;  while  the  2Gth  regiment,  with  the 
sailors  and  marines,  carried  the  strong  batteries  on  the  island  of  Koolang- 
see,  just  in  front  of  Amoy.  The  Chinese  made  an  animated  defence  for 
four  hours,  and  then  fled  from  all  their  fortifications,  and  also  from  the 
city,  carrying  with  them  their  treasures.  The  Chinese  junks  and  war- 
beats  were  all  captured  ;  and  the  cannon,  with  immense  munitions  of  war, 
of  course  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Knglish.  Not  a  single  man  of  the 
British  was  killed,  and  only  nine  were  wounded.  The  next  day  Sir  Hugh 
Gough  entered  the  city  at  the  head  of  his  troops  without  opposition. 

The  ne«t  dispatches  from  China  stated  that  Chusan  had  been  recaptured 
on  the  1st  of  October.  A  resolute  stand  was  made  by  the  Chinese  ;  but 
the  troops,  supported  by  the  fire  of  the  ships,  ascended  a  hill,  and  cscala 
ded  Tinghae,  the  capital  city,  from  whence  the  British  colours  were  soon 
seen  flying  i»  every  direction.  On  the  7th  the  troops  attacked  tlie  ciiy  of 
Cinhae,  on  the  main-land  opposite  Chusan,  which  is  inclosed  by  a  wall 
thirty-seven  feet  thick,  and  twenty-two  feet  high,  with  an  embrasured 
parapet  of  four  feet  high.  The  ships  bombarded  the  citadel  and  ennladed 
the  batteries ;  the  seamen  and  marines  then  landed,  and  Admiral  Sir  W. 
Parker,  with  the  true  spirit  of  a  British  sailor,  was  among  the  first  to 
scale  the  walls.  Here  was  found  a  great  arsenal,  a  cannon-foundry  and 
gun-carriage  manufactory,  p.nd  a  great  variety  of  warlike  stores. 

Several  other  engagements  took  place,  in  all  of  which  the  British  con- 
tinued to  have  a  most  decided  advantage,  although  it  was  admitted  that 
the  Chinese  and  Tartar  soldiers  showed  more  resolution  atid  a  better  ac- 
quaintance with  the  art  of  war  than  on  former  occasions.  However,  as  a 
large  reinforcement  of  troops,  with  a  battering  train  which  had  been  sent 
from  Calcutta,  was  shortly  expected,  Sir  Henry  Pottinger  put  off"  the 
execution  of  some  intended  operations  on  a  more  extended  scale  until 
their  arrival. 

Home  aff"airs  again  require  attention.  The  finances  of  the  country  had 
latterly  assumed  a  discouraj^ing  aspect ;  and  on  the  chancellor  of  the  ex- 
chequer bringing  forward  his  annual  budget,  he  proposed  to  make  up  the 
deficiency  of  the  present  year,  which  he  stated  to  be  2,421,000/.,  besides 
the  aggregate  deficiency  of  6,000,000/.,  mainly  by  a  modification  of  the 
duties  on  sugar  and  timber,  and  an  alteration  of  the  duties  on  corn.  The 
opposition  censured  the  proceedings  of  ministers,  and  Sir  Robert 
Peel  coinmented  severely  on  the  enormous  deficiency  of  7,r)00,000/.  incur- 
red (luiiiig  the  past  five  years,  with  a  revenue,  too,  which  had  been  tlirough- 
out  improving.  It  appeared  that  the  Melbourne  administration  was  oii  the 
wane;  and  its  permanency  was  put  to  the  test  when  Lord  .lolm  Russell, 
in  moving  that  the  house  should  go  into  a  committee  of  ways  and  incHiis, 
to  consider  the  sugar  duties,  entered  info  a  defence  of  the  prescnl  policy 
of  government.  Lord  Sandon  then  moved  the  aniondmcM^  of  •vliich  he 
had  given  notice,  "that  considering  tlie  eff"orts  and  snci-iflccs  wiiich  par- 
liament and  the  country  have  made  for  the  abolition  of  o'e.v.^ry ,  this  house 
is  not  prepared  (especially  with  the  present  prospects  of  the  supply  of 
^u-Tir  from  British  possessions),  to  adopt  the  measui'e  p.-oposcd  by  her 
majesty's  government  for  the  reduction  of  du'  ies  on  foreign  sng.irs."  The 
debate  which  ensued  adjourned  from  day  to  day,  and  lasted  for  the  uiipre- 
3edenled  extent  of  eight  nights.  When  the  house  divided,  on  the  18tli  of 
May,  there  appeared  for  Lord  Sandon's  amendment,  three  hundred  and 


K  I 


752 


THE  T11EA8URY  OF  HISTORY. 


Bcventeen ;  againut  it,  two  hundred  and  eighty-one ;  majority  against  min 
istcrs,  thirty-six. 

On  the  27th  of  May  Sir  R.  Peel  took  an  opportunity  of  minutely  review 
Ing  the  measures  that  had  been  submitwd  tojiarliament  by  ministers,  and 
afterwards  abandoned,  and  the  prejudicial  effects  on  the  finances  of  the 
country  which  had  accrued  from  the  passing  of  others.  Sir  Robert  added 
that  in  every  former  case  where  the  house  had  indicated  that  its  confidenco 
was  withdrawn  from  the  ministry,  the  ministers  had  retired.  The  whole 
of  their  conduct  betrayed  weakness  and  a  truckling  for  popular  favour, 
and  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown  were  not  safe  in  their  hands.  He  tiien 
moved  the  following  resolution  "That  her  majesty's  ministers  do  not  suf- 
ficiently possess  the  confidence  of  the  liouse  of  commons  to  enable  thctn 
to  carry  through  measures  which  they  deem  of  essential  importance  to 
the  public  welfare,  and  that  their  continuance  in  office,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, is  at  variance  with  the  spirit  of  the  constitution."  Tiiis  mo- 
tion was  carried  in  a  full  house,  (the  number  of  members  present  beinu 
six  hundred  and  twenty-three)  by  a  majority  of  one.  On  the  22d  of  Juno 
her  majesty  prorogued  parliament,  "with  a  view  to  its  immediate  disso- 
lution,"  and  it  was  accordingly  dissolved  by  proclamation  on  the  follow- 
ing day. 

On  the  meeting  of  the  new  parliament,  August  24th,  the  strength  of  tlie 
conservative  party  was  striking.  Tiie  ministers  had  no  measures  to  pro- 
pose beyond  those  on  which  they  had  before  sustained  a  defeat ;  and  when 
an  amendment  to  tiie  address  was  put  to  vote,  declaratory  of  a  want  ol 
confidence  in  her  majesty's  advisers,  it  elicited  a  spirited  debate  of  four 
night's  continuance,  terminating  in  a  majority  of  ninety-one  against  min- 
isters. This  result  produced  an  immediate  change  in  the  ministry.  Tiie 
new  cabinet  was: — Sir  R.  Peel,  first  lord  of  the  treasury;  duke  of  Wel- 
lington, (without  ofSce) ;  Lord  Lyndlmr.''t,  lord-chancellor ;  Lord  Wharn- 
cliffe,  president  of  the  council ;  duke  of  Buckingham,  privy  seal ;  Right 
Honourable  H.  Goulburn,  chancellor  of  the  exchequer ;  Sir  James  Graham 
home  secretary ;  earl  of  Aberdeen,  foreign  secretary ;  Lord  Stanley,  colo' 
iiial  secretary ;  earl  of  Haddington,  first  lord  of  the  admiralty ;  Lord  El- 
lenborough,  president  of  the  board  of  control ;  earl  of  Ripon,  president  of 
the  board  of  trade;  Sir  Henry  Hardinge,  secretary  at  war;  Sir  Edward 
KnatchbuU,  treasurer  of  the  navy  and  paymaster  of  the  forces.  Earl  de 
Grey  was  appointed  lord-lieutenant  of  Ireland,  and  Sir  Edward  Sugdo:;, 
Irish  lord-chancellor. 

On  the  30th  of  October  a  destructive  fire  broke  out  in  the  Tower,  about 
half-past  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  continued  to  rage  with  the  utmost  fury 
for  several  hours.  It  was  first  discovered  in  the  round  or  bowyer  tower, 
and  quickly  spread  to  the  grand  armory,  where  the  flames  gained  a  fearful 
ascendency.  Notwithstanding  the  exertions  of  the  firemen  and  military, 
the  conflagration  continued  to  spread,  and  apprehensions  were  entertained 
that  the  jewel  tower,  with  its  crowns,  sceptres,  and  other  emblems  of  roy. 
alty  would  fall  a  prey  to  the  devouring  element.  Happily,  by  prompt  ex- 
ertion, tliey  were  all  taken  to  the  governor's  rebidence,  and  the  gunpowder 
and  other  warlilie  stores  in  the  ordnance  oflUce  were  also  removed.  In 
addition  to  the  armory  and  bowyer  tower,  three  other  large  buildings  were 
confjumed.  The  grand  armory  was  three  hundred  and  forty-five  feet  long, 
and  sixty  feet  broad.  Ii  the  tower  floor  were  kept  about  forty-three 
pieces  of  cannon,  made  by  founders  of  different  periods,  besides  various 
other  interesting  objects,  and  a  number  of  chests  containing  arms  in  readi 
ness  for  use.  A  grand  staircase  led  to  the  upper  floor,  called  the  small 
armory,  in  which  were  above  1.50,000  stand  of  small  arms,  new  flinted, 
and  ready  for  immediate  service.  As  that  part  of  the  building  where  tiie 
fire  ■originated  was  heated  by  flues  from  stoves,  it  was  the  apinioa  that 


muiil 
the  to\ 
but  ui 
th;il  tli( 
lation 
iirmy 
ladies, 
before 
tlio  nat 
snow, 

So  te 
acknov 
mitted 
of  the 
ence 
necessa 
Lord  At 
whose 
His  Ion 
Sale  w; 
garrisoi 
able  to 
lied  fort 
tory. 
Sir  R. 
days'  di 
pass  of 
Vol 


THK  TI11CA8UIIY  OF  HltiToRY. 


75.1 


the  accident  was  tlioreby  occasioneil.    Tlio  loss  siistuiimd,  including   tli*- 
cxpoiisf  "f  rt'buildiiitf,  was  csliuialcid  at  about  jC2'i(),()()0. 

The  closing  parai,'ra|)h  m  tlio  dccnrrciices  of  jaisi  year  c^conlfd  tlirl  irtli 
of  llu!  princess  royal.  We  have  now  to  stale,  that  on  ;  ''h  of  Not  i-m- 
ber  the  queen  gave  birth  to  a  prince  at  liuckinsham-,..ilace,  neatly  a 
twelveinoiilh  havinif  elapsed  since  her  majesty's  former  aecouchenirnt 
The  hai)py  event  having  taken  place  on  lord-mayor's  day,  it  was  most 
loyally  celebrated  by  the  citizens  so  opportunely  assembled.  On  tlieJ.'ilh 
of  the  following  January  the  infant  prince  of  Wales  received  the  name  o/ 
Albert  IMward,  the  king  of  Prussia  being  one  of  the  sponsors. 

A.  D.  181-'. — The  year  commenced  with  most  disastrous  intelligence 
from  India.  In  consequence  of  reductions  hiiving  been  made  in  the  tri- 
bute paid  to  the  eastern  Gliilzie  tribes,  for  keeping  open  the  passes  be- 
tween Caboul  and  Jellalabad,  in  AflTghanistan,  the  people  rose  and  took 
possession  of  those  passes.  Gen.  Sir  II.  Sale's  briga'iO  was  therefore 
directed  to  re-open  the  communication.  The  brigade  fought  its  way  to 
(iur.damuck,  greatly  harassed  by  the  enemy  from  the  high  ground,  and 
after  eigliteen  days'  incessant  fighting,  reached  that  place,  much  exhausted ; 
they  tlien  moved  upon  .lellalabad.  Meantime  an  insurrection  broke  out 
at  Caboul.  Sir  A.  Burnf.'s,  and  his  brother  Lieutenant  C  Burnes,  Lieu- 
tenant I3ro;idfoot,  and  Lieutenant  Sturt  were  massacred.  The  wh{>lccity 
then  rose  in  arms,  and  universal  plunder  ensued — while  another  large 
piirty  attacked  the  British  cantonments,  about  two  miles  from  the  town. 
These  outrages,  unfortunately,  were  but  the  prelude  to  others  far  more 
frightful.  Akhbar  Khan,  the  son  of  Dost  Mahoinmcd,  on  pretence  of 
niidiiiig  arrangements  with  Sir  W.  M'Naghten,  the  British  envoy  at  the 
court  of  Shah  Soojah,  invited  him  to  a  conference  ;  he  went,  accompanied 
by  four  odu'crs  and  a  small  escort,  when  the  treacherous  AfTghan,  after 
abusing  the  British  ambassador,  drew  a  pistol  and  shot  him  dead  on  the 
spot.  Captain  Trevor,  of  the  3d  Bengal  cavalry,  on  rushing  to  his  assist- 
ance, was  cut  down,  three  other  oinccrs  were  made  prisoners,  and  the 
mutilated  body  of  the  ambassador  was  then  barbarously  paraded  through 
the  town.  It  was  also  stated  that  some  severe  fighting  had  taken  place, 
but  under  the  greatest  disadvantage  to  the  British  and  native  troops,  and 
that  the  army  in  Caboul  had  been  almost  literally  annihilated.  A  capitu- 
lation was  then  entered  into,  by  which  the  remainder  of  the  Anglo-Indian 
iirmy  retired  from  the  town,  leaving  all  the  sick,  wounded,  and  sixteen 
ladies,  wives  of  ofllcers,  behind.  They  had  not,  however,  proceeded  far 
before  they  were  assailed  from  the  mountains  by  an  immense  force,  when 
the  native  troops,  having  fought  three  days,  and  wading  through  deep 
snow,  gave  way,  and  nearly  the  whole  were  massacred. 

So  terrible  a  disaster  had  never  visited  the  British  arms  since  India  first 
acknowledged  the  supremacy  of  England.  A  fatal  mistake  had  been  com- 
mitted by  the  former  government,  and  it  was  feared  that  all  the  energy 
of  the  new  ministry  would  be  insufficient  to  maintain  that  degree  of  influ- 
ence over  the  vast  and  thickly  peopled  provinces  of  India,  which  was 
necessary  to  ensure  the  safety  of  our  possessions.  The  governor-general, 
Lord  Auckland,  was  recalled,  and  his  place  supplied  by  Lord  Ellenborough, 
whose  reputation  for  a  correct  knowledge  of  luf's  r.  affairs  was  undisputed. 
His  lordship  arrived  at  Calcutta  on  Feb.  28,  at  which  time  Sir  Robert 
Sale  was  safe  at  Jellalabad ;  but  he  was  most  critically  situated.  The 
garrison,  however,  maintained  their  post  with  great  gallantry,  and  were 
able  to  defy  the  utmost  efforts  of  the  Affghans,  having  in  one  instance  sal- 
lied forth  and  attacked  their  camp,  of  0,000  men,  and  gained  a  signal  vic- 
tory. At  length  General  Pollock  cfTccted  a  junction  with  the  troops  of 
Sir  n.  Sale,  and  released  them  from  a  siege  of  one  hundred  and  fifty-four 
days'  duration;  having  previously  forced,  with  very  little  loss,  the  dreaded 
pass  of  the  Khyber,  iwenty-cight  miles  in  length.  Gen.  Nott,  also,  who 
Vol.  I— 48 


751 


TIIK  TItKASIJIlY  01'"  llIdTOllY. 


adviiin.'fd  fioni  rimdaliar  to  inf.ct  (Jem  ral  I'-iiuIuikI,  who  li.ul  HustaiiicJ 
cuiisidcrublo  loss  at  llio  pass  of  Kojuck,  iiicoiiiiltMed  n  htgc.  force  of  aiT- 
ffhans,  and  complotfly  dcfealocl  tlwMn.  Mill,  on  ilio  otlu-r  hand,  folonel 
Palmer  surrendered  the  celebrated  fortress  of  (jhnznee,  on  condition  that 
the  jfarrison  shoi.!-!  be  eafely  conducted  to  Caboul. 

The  day  of  retribution  was  at  hand.  Cicneral  Nott,  at  the  head  of  seven 
thousand  men,  having  h;ft  Candahar  on  the  Iflth  of  August,  proceeded 
towards  Ghuznee  and  Caboul,  while  General  Kn^'land,  with  the  remainder 
of  the  t'roops  lately  stationed  at  Candahar,  inarched  back  in  safely  to 
Qnctta.  On  the  301  h  of  Auijust,  Shah  Shoodecn,  the  governor  of  GhuEnec, 
with  nearly  the  whole  of  his  army,  amounting  to  not  less  than  twelve 
thousand  men,  arrived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  British  camp,  and  Gen 
eral  Nott  prepared  to  meet  hint  with  one  half  of  his  force.  The  enemy 
came  boldly  forward,  each  division  cheering  as  they  came  into  noBltjoii, 
and  occupying  their  grounti  in  excellent  style  ;  but  after  a  short  an(i  spiriii-d 
contest,  they  were  completely  defeated,  and  dispersed  in  every  direction 
their  guns,  tents,  ammunition,  ice,  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Kn^lish.' 
On  the  5lh  of  September  General  Nott  invested  the  city  of  Ghuznee,  whicli 
was  strongly  garrisoned,  while  the  hills  to  the  northeastward  swaruii'd 
with  soldiery  ;  but  they  soon  abandoned  tlie  place,  and  the  Britisii  fltigs 
were  hoisted  in  triumph  on  the  Bala  Hissar.  Th'^  citadel  of  Ghuznee 
and  other  formidable  works  and  defences,  were  razed  to  the  ground. 

Early  in  September  General  Pollock  marched  fni.i  Gundanmck  on  his 
way  to  Caboul.  On  reaching  the  hills  whi(;h  command  the  road  tlirou'rh 
the  pass  of  .lugdulhick,  the  enemy  was  found  st:;oi>giv  posted  and  in  con- 
siderable numbers.  In  this  action  most  of  the  in(!i]entml  AfTghan  '^liiefa 
were  engaged,  and  their  troops  manfully  maintained  their  position  ;  but 
at  lengtli  the  heights  were  stormed,  and,  after  much  arduous  exertion,  they 
were  dislodged  and  dispersed.  Gen.  Pollock  proceeded  onwards,  and 
does  not  appear  to  have  encountered  any  further  opposition  until  his 
arrival,  September  13,  in  the  Tehzear  valley,  where  an  army  of  16,000 
Tien,  conimanded  by  Akhbar  Khan  in  person,  was  assembled  to  meet  him 
A  desperate  fight  ensued  ;  the  enemy  was  completely  defeated  and  driven 
•'rem  the  field.  On  the  day  follo\  i:g  this  engagement  the  general  ad- 
"/anced  to  Boodkhak,  and  on  the  IGth  hn  made  his  triumphal  entry  into 
the  citadel,  and  planted  the  British  colours  on  its  walls.  "  Thus,"  said 
Lord  Ellenborough,  in  his  general  orders,  "have  all  past  disasters  been 
retrieved  and  avenged  on  every  scene  on  which  they  were  sustained,  and 
repeated  victories  in  the  field,  and  the  capture  of  the  citadels  of  Ghuznee 
and  Caboul  have  advanced  the  glory  and  established  the  accustomed 
superiority  of  the  British  arms." 

At  length  the  long  and  anxiously  desired  liberation  of  the  whole  of  the 
British  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  the  Affghans  was  effected.  Their  num- 
ber was  31  officers,  9  ladies,  and  12  children,  with  61  European  soldiers, 
2  clerks,  and  4  women,  making  in  all  109  persons,  who  had  suffered  cap. 
tivity  from  Jan.  10  to  Sept.  27.  It  appeared  that,  by  direction  of  Akhbar 
Khan,  the  prisoners  had  been  taken  to  Bameoan,  90  miles  to  the  west- 
ward, and  that  they  were  destined  to  be  distributed  among  the  Toorkistaii 
chiefs.  General  Pollock  and  some  other  officers  proposed  to  the  Alf^lim 
chief,  that  if  he  would  send  them  back  to  Caboul,  they  would  give  liim 
d£2,000  at  once,  and  c£l,200  a  year  for  life.  The  chief  complied,  and  on 
the  second  day  they  were  met  by  Sir  Richmond  Shakspear,  with  610 
Kuzzilbashes,  and  shortly  afterwards  by  General  Sale,  with  2,000  cavalry 
and  infantry,  when  they  returned  to  Caboul.  Besides  the  Europeans, 
there  were  327  sepoys  found  at  Ghuznee,  and  1,200  sick  and  wounded 
who  were  begging  about  Caboul.  On  the  arrival  of  General  Nott's  divi. 
sion,  the  resolution  adopted  by  tho  British  government  to  destroy  all  the 
Affghan  strongholds  was  carried  Into  execution,  thoug'u  not  without  n. 


quence 
ladies  w 
examine 
was  trie 
headed, 
oenaltie 
Scare 
pretendi 
her  maji 
v'hapel 
A  lad,  a 


THK  TUKA6UUY  OV  HlSTDll' 


^ 


756 


liijliinrc,  jurliciilarly  at  iho  town  and  f«»rt  of  iHialifl,  uln're  a  siicnt,'  *)u<l> 
of  AffKliaii!*,  led  on  by  Aimer  Odla,  unci  sixtcrn  of  tht-ir  iiiohI  deUiiiim*-!! 
cliirfs,  had  posted  tlioinselves.  This  town  consisted  of  uiaHms  of  hoiison 
built  on  the  slope  of  a  moinilain,  in  the  rear  of  whieh  were  lofty  eminence* 
eliulting  in  ii  defile  to  Toorkistan.  The  ninnher  of  its  inhabitiinlH  exceed 
cd  1  J.OOO,  who,  from  their  defences  and  dirticullies  of  approach,  consider- 
ed their  position  unassailable.  The  greater  part  of  the  plnrnk-r  icized 
lust  January  from  the  Urilisli  was  placed  there  ;  the  chiefs  kept  their 
wives  and  families  in  it;  and  many  of  those  who  hid  escaped  from  ('a- 
boul  had  souH;ht  refuge  there.  Its  capture,  however,  was  a  work  of  no 
very  great  difficulty,  the  britiiili  troops  driving  the  enemy  before  thcni 
with  considerable  slaughter.  The  Anglo  Indian  troops  soon  after- 
wards commenced  their  homeward  march  in  tlireo  divihitMis;  the  first 
under  (icneral  Pollock,  the  second  under  (Joneral  M'Caskill,  and  the 
third  under  General  Nott.  The  first  division  effected  their  inarcli  through 
the  passes  without  loss  ;  but  the  second  was  less  successful,  the  moun- 
taineers attacking  it  near  Ali-Musjid,  and  plundering  it  of  part  of  the 
baggage.  General  Nolt,  with  his  division,  arrived  in  safely;  bearing 
with  them  the  celebrated  gates  of  Somnauth,  which  it  is  said  a  Mohame- 
dan  conqueror  had  taken  away  froni  an  Indian  temple,  and  which  foi 
eight  centuries  formed  the  chief  ornament  of  his  tomb  nl  (ihuzncc. 

The  Niger  expedition,  which  was  undertaken  last  year  by  benevolent 
individuals,  supported  by  a  government  gratit  of  X'()0,000,  was  totally  de- 
feated by  the  pestilential  effects  of  the  climate.  The  intention  was,  to 
plant  in  the  centre  of  Africa  an  English  colony,  in  the  hope,  by  the  proofr; 
afforded  of  the  advantages  of  agriculture  and  trade,  to  reclaim  the  natives 
from  the  custom  of  selling  their  captives  into  slavery. 

On  the  30th  of  May,  as  her  majesty,  accompanied  by  Prince  Albert, 
was  returningdown  Constitution-hill  to  liuckingliain-p;dace,  from  her  after- 
noon's ride,  a  young  man,  named  .John  Francis,  fired  a  pistol  at  the  car- 
riage, but  without  effecting  any  injury.  He  was  immediately  taken  into 
custody,  when  it  appeared  that  he  was  by  trade  a  carpenter,  but  being 
out  of  employ,  hrid  attempted  to  establish  a  snuff-shop,  in  which  he  was 
unsuccesstVl.  It  was  supposed  that  he  v/as  incited  to  this  criminal  act 
partly  by  desperation,  and  partly  by  the  ecl^t  and  permanent  provision — 
though  in  an  apartment  at  Bedlam— awarded  to  Edward  Oxford,  who  it 
will  be  remembered,  performed  a  similar  exploit  at  nearly  the  same  spot 
in  June,  1840.  The  news  reached  the  house  cf  commons  while  the  de- 
bate on  the  property  tax  was  in  progress,  which  was  sudd^riy  stopped, 
and  the  house  broke  up.  The  next  day,  however,  the  bill  was  again  pro- 
posed, and  carried  by  a  majority  of  lOU. 

A  joint  address  congratulating  her  majesty  on  her  happy  escape,  wrs 
presented  from  both  houses  of  parliament  on  the  1st  of  June,  anc'  a  form 
of  thanksgiving  was  sanctioned  by  the  privy  council.  It  appealed  thai 
lome  danger  had  been  apprehended  in  consequence  of  the  same  peisop. 
laving  been  observed  in  the  park  with  a  pistol  on  the  preceding  day;  and 
Lord  Portman  stated  in  the  house  of  lords  that  her  majesty  in  conse- 
quence would  not  permit,  on  the  30th  of  May,  the  attendance  of  those 
ladies  whose  duty  it  is  to  wait  upon  her  on  such  accasions.  Francis  w&r 
examined  before  the  privy  council,  and  then  committed  to  Newgate ;  !>.! 
was  tried,  found  guilty  of  high  treason,  and  sentenced  to  be  hung,  bo- 
headed,  and  quartered ;  but  it  was  deemed  proper  to  remit  the  extreme 
penalties  and  commute  his  sentence  to  transportation  for  life. 

Scarcely  more  than  a  month  had  elapsed,  when  a  third  attempt,  oi 
pretended  attempt,  on  the  life  of  the  qveen  was  made  in  St.  Jamesr'  park, 
her  majesty  being  at  the  time  on  her  way  from  Buckinghanj-palace  to  the 
ijhapel  royal,  accompanied  by  Prince  Albert  and  the  king  of  the  Belgians. 
A  Ud,  about  eighteen  years  r^  age,  named  John  William  Bean,  was  ob- 


76€ 


TlIK  TKKASUllY  OF  JUSTOIlY. 


itT«'<'il  'D  prPNcnt  ii  [listol  at  Iht  iiiiijisiy's  riirriiigf,  by  a  youth  iimnpd 
l>HHhc'.,  will)  M«;izc(l  liirii,  iiiid  nl.iltd  the  circiiiiistiiin'i'  to  two  (uiIk  inicn. 
'I'licy  liiatcd  It  as  a  jdkc,  iind  lii.iii  wiis  allowed  to  dipiirl ;  lint  In  unj 
mitisi'ijiii  iitly  apprclK'iidi'd  at  lux  fallinN  Iioiihc,  and  ( omnnitrd  i(>[irisi|ii. 
<Jn  Ins  I'xaMHiialiiin  lii'  [irrsi.slcd  in  asNrrlin).'  that  that  llicic  was  ri.p<(iiti» 
but  |iowd<!r  and  paper  in  tlic  pistol,  and  ill. it  b<!  did  not  intend  to  hiir'  the 
quern  ;  in  fact,  he  appi  aretj  to  he  one  of  tlioso  weak  bcinga  who  ntx-in 
aeliiated  by  a  iiioibiil  ilesire  of  iiotorieiy. 

It  wasevideni  that  the  false  syn)|ialiiy  .shown  to  Oxford  lind  encoura;r(.(j 
others  in  their  luse  atleinpts  ;  and  Sir  Holx'rt  Peel,  aetiiit;  on  that  cuii. 
vietinn,  introdueed  a  hill  into  parliaineiil  for  thtt  better  Neeunly  of  hrr 
rnaje^ly'rt  person,  his  ohjeet  lu'inij  to  eoiisijrii  the  oili  iiders  to  th.ii  con. 
tempt  wliieli  befilleil  llieir  disuraeet'nl  praelieeH.  The  hill  was  ho  franiej 
as  to  indict  for  the  olleiieis  of  iiri'senlinj^  lire-arms  at  her  majesty,  oral, 
tcmpliiif,' to  stiikt;  her  person  with  missiles,  and  for  other  acts  iiil(ii;|,.J 
to  alarm  her  majesty,  or  (lislnrb  the  i)ni)lic  pear*e,  the  penalty  of  seven 
vcnrH*  iransporatation,  with  pn.'vions  iiiiprisunmenl  and  tlo^'gmg,  or  other 
bodily  (;liastisemeiit. 

We  must  oiico  more  recur  to  llie  warlike  o|)eralioiis  in  (^hina,  Aftpr 
ai)  arrival  of  ri.'inforceinehls,  the  Unlish  expediiioii,  .June  Khli,  eiiterfj 
lilt!  lar},M!  river  called  Yant{l/e-Kian{r,  on  the  banks  of  winch  were  im- 
mens(>  fortifications.  'I'he  licet  at  (layli<rht  liavin<r  taken  their  stations 
the  batteries  opened  a  fire  wdiich  lasted  two  hoiir.s.  The  si  amen  and 
nmrines  then  landed,  ai:d  drove  the  Chinese  out  of  their  batteries  before 
the  troops  could  be  di.sciid)arke(l.  S-Wgun.?  were  taken,  of  heavy  caiihro, 
and  11  feet  long.  On  the  IDtli  two  other  batteries  were  taken,  in  which 
were  '18i,niii8.  The  troops  then  took  possession  of  t!ie  city  of  .Slia.iyhai, 
destroyed  the  public  IniildiiiL's,  and  distributed  the  contents  of  the 
grattaries  among  the  people.  Two  other  field-works  were  also  taken,  and 
the  t(tlal  number  of  guns  captured  amounted  to  3G1.  The  sijuadron 
set  sail  from  VVoosuiiir  on  the  (5ih  of  July  ;  on  the  :20th  the  vessels  anchor- 
ed abreast  the  city  of  ChingKeang-foo,  which  c(Mnmaiids  the  entrance 
of  the  grand  canal,  and  the  next  morning  the  troops  were  disembarked, 
and  marched  to  the  attack  of  the  Chinese  forces.  One  brigade  was  liirect- 
ed  to  move  against  the  enemy's  camp,  situated  about  three  miles  distant, 
another  was  ordered  to  eo-operate  with  this  division  in  cnlting  ofT  the  ex- 
pected retreat  of  the  Chinese  from  the  camp,  while  the  third  received  in- 
structions  to  escalade  the  norlhern  wall  of  the  town.  The  ("'hinese,  after 
firing  a  few  distant  volleys,  fled  from  the  camp  witli  precipitation,  and 
dispersed  over  the  couiilry.  The  city  itself,  however,  was  luanfully  de- 
fended by  the  Tartar  soldiers,  who  prolonged  the  contest  for  three  iiours, 
resisting  with  desperate  valour  the  combined  efforts  of  the  three  brigades, 
aided  by  a  reiiiforceincnt  of  marines  and  seamen.  At  lei)i;tli  opposi- 
tion  ceased,  and  ere  nightfall  the  British  were  complete  masters  of  the 
place.  Ching-Kcang-foo,  like  Amoy,  was  most  strongly  fortified,  and 
the  works  in  excellent  repair.  It  is  supposed  that  the  garrison  consist- 
ed of  not  less  than  3,000  men,  and  of  these  about  1,000,  and  40  man- 
darins, were  killed  and  wounded.  The  Tartar  general  retired  to  his 
house  when  he  saw  that  all  was  lost,  made  his  servants  set  it  on  fire, 
and  sat  in  his  chair  till  he  was  burned  to  death.  On  the  side  of  the 
British,  15  officers  and  154  men,  of  both  services,  were  killed  and 
wounded. 

A  strong  garrison  being  left  behind  for  the  retention  of  Ching-Keang- 
foo,  the  fleet  proiteeded  towards  Nankin,  about  forty  miles  distant,  and 
arrived  on  the  Glh  of  August,  when  preparations  were  innnedialely  made 
for  an  attack  on  the  city.  A  strong  force  under  the  command  of  !\lajor- 
£-.ni^ral  Lord  Saltoun,  was  landed,  and  took  up  their  position  to  the  west 
of  the  town  :  and  operations  wein  about  to  be  commenced,  when  a  letter 


this  < 
whici 
bet  we 
Wh, 
tended 
iler  it 
thuii'j 
obtain 
navig; 
ilyder, 
\ol  iiei 
li-ivijial 
until 
they  se 
not  sn| 
the  res 
lirtli 
VllUllllU 


TirK  TflKA!*i;ilY  i)K  lll.-ri»llY. 


■JM 


W1IH   » 


'in 


out  »i(]  'i»  111"    [)liMii()'il(Miii  iry,  n  ijiii'-iiiiiK  :iiiinr,  as  (■.•riani   • 


P« 

IP 


ii'nm''i'tiii'r'4.  HiM-nally  tlilr^.ili'il  l»y  tin;  ciniurnr.  .iii>|  |ii)<<ti  sh  il  n  .  .11 
)w;rs  l»  iii'„ii)ii:itf,  NVcii!  on  l:iiMr  »\  ly  lit  Ir.ai  with  ilic  T,  lyli^li  ,.  •  ;f 
vrfiil  vi-vils  aiil  lull:,'  iIimimsiiiii-  lictwci'ii  tlir  I'umr niiii','  ihuv   r..    Iiia 


a'v  w  IS  iin'iln-ly  -«i.;ii,'il  oil  liuirl  tin-  ( 'm  iiw.illi.s,  liy  Sir  ||  |'.it;.ir;.r 
iiil  lUf  Ilii'ff  •■••iiimitsi.iin  rn,  (H  Huh  niiiM  iiIi.hi  tin-  fullokviii^  art- i lit' 
inosl  :iM|)(»rtaiil  articles:  1.  LinIih:;  |„  irt-  an  I  lrniils|ii|»  hciwci'ii  ilin 
two  t'liiiiin'-*'  '-'  <'liiiii  to  pay  fvi-ntj  .uiii-  iiiilliniis  of  iIoIIhs  in  ilm 
toiirso  of  ih  it  aii'l  llircn  sii  •cci'Iiidi  yi'i's.  3  Tlir  ports  of  ('anion, 
AniiiVt  1*'<><*  I'lioo-t'oo,  .\iii^r|)ti,  an<l  S,i,iiii4liai,  to  Ix'  tliniwn  opni  to  lliiti-h 
inrii'li.ints,  coiiMilar  olHrr.s  to  i.i  apiioinii'.l  to  rc-nlii  at  llnni,  and  nunl  ii 
111,1  jii.sl  t  irill's  ol'  inipnt  anil  t\|i,Mt  (as  well  as  inlainl  transit)  du'ii's  to 
be  ('slal»li.>lM'i|  and  iinlili>lii'i|.  I.  Tlif  i-1  nid  of  1  lon:;Konii  lo  l)c  reded 
III  perpiltiity  to  lirr  llnlannn-  in  ijisly,  lin-  Ikii-m.  and  xiirri'-^-ors.  !">.  All 
iul)ji'''is  of  lier  nriiannii-  iiia|e:-ty  (wlirlli.'r  nalives  of  I'luinpc  or 
India),  ulio  may  lie  eonHni'il  in  anv'p.icl  ol  the  (.'liinese  empire,  to  he  im. 
iMiiidilioiially  rele.isi'd.  (j.  Ainirt  of  tnll  and  eiilin!  ainiu-sty  lo  lie  piih- 
lislied  liy  t'M!  emperor,  under  Ins  iuipi  rial  NiMii-miiiiial  an  I  mmI,  Io  all  ( Mii- 


UiiM'  Miiijrcts,  on  ae(;oiiiil  ol  tluir  Invin 


1,'  hrM 


seivice  or  iiilirconrse  willi, 


ori'espon 


jr  resided  nii  ler,  Hk!  iiriiish  hovi  rninriit  or  Us  uilirers.  7.  f 
(lencc  to  lie  eondneled  on  terms  of  pcrferi  i  ijiiiliiy  ainont;  Hie  olli.-ers 
of  linlli  i,'ovenimeiits.  ri.  On  t!ie  emperor's  ass'iil  iitiiii^  received  to  tliU 
treaty,  and  the  p  lyiiK'iil  of  tin;  lir.sl  mstaiar.'nt,  six  niilliims  of  dollars,  lior 
Uriliiiinic  majesty's  forces  to  reiin;  fnnii  N.uikin  and  Hie  ijraiid  canal, 
mill  lilt!  military  posts  at  (;iiiiii>h,ii  to  Ik!  also  wiihirawn;  bnt  tln'  islands 
,if('liiisan  and  Kolaiiijisoo  are  to  he  ledd  nmii  ili,.  muiKiy  |iayiiu  iils  mid 
tliu  arranacmeiils  for  opeiiiiiir  liie  (torts  are  eom|)lLi"  I. 

iianientary  sension  coin 


A,  I). 


H  lit.— On   the  -Jd  of  Fel 


aiy 


III 


eiii'id;  the  royal  speech,  which  wa' i., id  hy  the  loiil-i  liancclor,  refe.red 


111  leriiis  of  just  coiiLiiMlnlalioii  to;  1.  'I'lie  snceiEisfnl  ttn-minaiKni  of  )io9 
lilHics  Willi  (Jliiiia,  and  ihe  prosjjert  it  allorded  of  assisliii'.;  Mie  eonunor- 
ciul  ciiti.'rprisc  of  her  people.  'J.  'riie  complete  success  of  ih,e  recent  niiU 
ilary  operations  in  AUghanislan,  where  tlit!  snpenoriiy  of  her  majesiy's 
arms  had  been  estaldistied  liy  decisive  vieiories  on  tia;  scenes  of  I'oimt'i 
(lis.islers,  and  the  compleKi  liberation  of  her  majesty's  subjects,  for  whom 
she  felt  the  deepest  iniercst,  iiail  b'lii  eirecled.  :t,  The  ailjiistmcnt  ot 
those  dilluiciiccs  witii  llei  Dmled  Stales  of  America,  which  iVoiiMheii 
long  conliiiiniice  had  eiidaiii4('red  lln;  prc'servation  of  peace.  4.  The  o\h- 
laiiimi;',  in  concert  with  her  allies,  for  the  Christian  population  of  Syria, 
an  establishment  of  a  system  of  admiiiistiatioii  wliieh  they  were  entitled 
toex|iect  from  tlio  (Migagemeiits  of  the  sultan,  and  from  the  i,'ood  faiih  of 
this  (touiitry.  And,  5.  A  treaty  ofcomiiUMce  and  navigation  with  Ihissia, 
which  her  majesty  rcjrarded  as  the  loundatioii  for  iiu'roascd  iiilerconrso 
between  her  subjects  and  those  ot  the  emptn'or. 

When  the  expedition  to  Air^hanisiaii  was  first  undertaken,  it  was  in- 
tended  lo  open  the  Indus  for  the  transit  of  British  iinrchandise,  and  ren- 
der it  one  of  the  {frcal  highways  lo  Asia.  The  objcet  was  not  losit  sight  of, 
thou'^h  AlVghiiiistaii  had  been  abauiloiicd;  and  endeavours  were  made  to 
iiblaiii  from  the  Ameers  of  Seimle  such  a  treaty  as  would  secure  ihi!  sufe 
navigation  of  that  river.  In  Decemlier,  M  ijor  Oaliaiii  was  dispatched  to 
Hyderabad  to  conclude  the  best  terms  in  his  power  with  the  native  cdiiefs. 
Not  being  in  acoin'iition  immtnliately  to  refuse  Ao  give  up  for  the  use  of 
iiavigalion  certain  strips  of  land  lying  along  the  river,  tlu^y  tcinponsed, 
until  at  length  their  troops  were  collected,  when  on  the  Utii  v)f  Kebrnaiy 
they  sunt  word  to  Major  Outrani  to  retire  from  their  <;ity.  The  major, 
not  su[)jiosmg  tln^y  would  proceed  lo  extremilies,  delayed.  The  m  l  d'ly 
the  residence  of  liie  linlish  piduical  agent  was  altackt^d  ,  it  was  'j  iilly 
ilel'i  ii  hui  by  one  lumdred  men  fur  several  hours  ,  but  at  hmgl'  .e:r  am- 
uiuiiitioa  having  been  expended,  the  British  siddiers  /el'red  witii  a  small 


II 


/ 


736 


THK  T11EA8UKY  OF   ULSTOIIY. 


losr  to  llic  sleamcis,  sind  proccodcd  to  join  Sir  C.  J.  Niipier,  tlien  at  ttie 
Ikm'I  (if  about  lu('nly-s<v(,'i)  imiidred  men,  at  a  distance  of  about  twenty 
miles  from  tlic  c'lpitiil  of  tlie  Aiiu'crs.  Tlie  lali^r  hastened,  at  the  head  of 
twenty-two  thousand  men,  to  attack  the  British  force.  On  tiie  17tii  a  bat- 
tle took  phice,  ill  wiiich,  after  a  severe  struggle  of  three  hours,  the  Ameers 
were  totally  routed,  although  they  outnumbered  the  British  force  by  .seven 
to  one.  The  Ameers  on  the  following  day  surrendered  themselves  pris- 
oners  of  war,  and  Hyderabad  was  occupied  by  the  conquerers.  Treus. 
lire  and  jewels  wen;  found  to  an  amount  cunsiderably  exceednig  one  mil- 
lion  sterling.  In  consequence  of  this  success,  the  territories  of  Scinde 
with  the  ex(!eption  of  that  portion  belonging  to  Mcer  Ali,  the  inorad  of 
Khyr[)ore,  was  then  declared  by  the  governor-general  to  be  a  British 
province,  and  Sir  Charles  J.  Napier  wao  appointed  governor. 

The  new  f,'()veriior,  however,  was  not  to  remain  in  undisturbed  posses- 
sion for  any  length  of  time.  An  army  of  Beloochees,  twenty  thousand 
strong,  under  tlie  command  of  Meer  Shere  Mahomed,  had  taken  up  a 
s'.roiig  position  on  the  liver  Fullal'ie,  near  the  spot  where  the  Ameers  of 
Scinde  were  so  "signally  defeated,  and  Sir  C.  J.  Napier,  on  ascertainino 
the  fact,  resolved  to  attack  them  forthwith.  On  the  i2lth  of  March  he 
moved  from  Hyderabad  at  the  head  of  five  thousand  men.  The  battle 
lasted  for  three  hours,  when  victory  dechiied  for  the  British  ;  eleven  guns 
and  nineteen  standards  were  taken,  and  about  one  thousand  of  the  enemy 
were  killed,  and  four  thousand  wounded  ;  the  loss  of  the  British  anioniu- 
ing  to  oidy  30  killed  and  1231  wounded.  By  this  victory  the  fate  of  Scinde 
and  Belooidiistan  was  sealed,  and  the  whole  territory  finally  annexed  to 
the  Anglo-Indian  empire. 

In  an  age  of  experimental  science  like  the  present,  it  appears  tlmost 
invidious  in  a  work  of  this  kind  to  allude  to  anj/.  In  truth,  our  limits 
liavp  compelleii  us  to  omit  the  mention  of  many  works  of  national  impor- 
tanee,  but  we  trust  to  be  excused  for  such  omissions,  while  we  insert 
the  following  ;  In  order  to  save  the  vast  amount  of  manual  labour  neces- 
pary  to  form  a  sea-wall  on  the  course  of  the  south-eastern  railway,  near 
Dover,  the  great  experiment  of  exploding  eighteen  thousand  five  hundred 
pounds  of  gunpowder,  under  Round-down  cliff,  was  on  the  26th  of  Janu- 
ary attempted  by  the  engineers,  with  perfect  success.  On  the  signal 
being  given,  the  miners  coinumnicated,  by  connecting  wires,  the  electric 
spark  to  the  gunpowder  ileposited  in  chambers  formed  in  the  cliff;  the 
earth  trembled  for  half  a  mile  each  way  ;  a  stifled  report,  not  loud  but 
deep,  was  heard,  and  the  clilT,  extending  on  either  hand  to  five  hundred 
feet,  gradually  subsided  seaward  ;  in  a  few  seconds,  not  less  then  one 
million  tons  of  chalk  were  dislodged  by  the  shock,  settling  into  the  sea 
below,  frothing  and  boiling  as  it  displaced  the  liquid  element,  till  it  occu- 
pied the  expanse  of  many  acres,  and  extended  outward  on  its  ocean  bed 
to  a  distance  of  two  or  three  thousand  feet.  This  operation  was  man- 
aged with  such  admirable  skill  and  preinsion,  that  it  would  appear  just  so 
much  of  the  clifT  was  removed  as  was  necessary  to  make  way  for  the  sea- 
wall, while  an  immense  saving  in  time  and  labour  was  also  efTected. 

Now  that  we  have  trespassed  on  the  province  of  art,  we  cannot  forbeai 
to  notice  that  wonderful  and  gigantic  undertaking,  the  Thames  tunnel 
For  twenty  years  that  stupendous  labour  had  been  going  on,  when  on  the 
25th  of  May  it  was  opened  for  foot  passengers,  at  one  penny  each.  At 
a  rt'cent  meeting  of  the  proprietors,  a  vole  of  thanks  was  offered  to  the 
engineer  in  the  following  terms:  "That  the  cordial  thanks  and  congrat- 
ulation of  the  assembly  are  hereby  tendered  to  Sir  isambert  Brunei,  F.  R.S., 
for  the  distinguished  talent,  energj',  and  perseverance  evinced  by  him 
in  the  design,  construction,  and  completion  of  the  Thames  tunnel,  a 
work  unprecedented  in  the  annals  of  science  and  ingenuity,  and  exhibiiirig 
a  triumph  of  genius  over  physical  diflicullies,  declared  by  some  of  lliu 


THE  TIlEASUllY  01''  UlSTOltV. 


751 


most  oaliaiitoiio.l  iiuniof  the  ago  to  Ix;  iiisiinirniiit'ililc."  T1us:vitji  noi> 
was  coiiiiiieiici!.!  in  ISJj,  but  slopp;.!  in  l'*-2-<  hy  ;m  irnip  i  »ti  of  ttit 
Thiiiiics,  and  no  further  progress  was  mrule  until  H35.  Iiums  were  tlieti 
granted  by  government,  and  the  works  were  iminterrnptcdly  continned, 
the  total  expense  iiehur  c£44(),000. 

On  the  21st  of  April,  his  royal  highness  the  duke  of  Sussex  died.  On 
the  iJoth  the  queen  was  safely  delivered  of  a  princess,  wlio  was  rliri^- 
tened  Aliee  Maude  Mary.  And  on  the  same  aft'Tuoon  that  the  queen 
gave  birth  to  a  princess,  the  king  of  Hanover  arrived  in  [joudon,  from 
Calais,  it  being  his  majesty's  first  visit  to  England  since  his  accession. 

On  the  28th  of  June  the  prinecsj  Augusta,  eldest  daughter  of  tlie  duke 
of  Cambridge,  was  married  to  his  royal  highness  Frederic;  William,  he- 
reditary grand  duke  of  Mccklenburg-Strelitz.  A  grant  of  three  tliousand 
pounds  per  annum  was  settled  on  her  by  the  governuient,  and  in  a  few 
days  after  the  marriage  they  embarked  for  the  conlini!nt. 

In  Carmarthenshire  and  some  of  the  neighbouring  Welsh  counties,  a 
novel  species  of  insurrection  had  kept  the  country  in  a  state  of  alarm,  au  I 
rendered  military  assistance  necessary.  Certain  small  farmers,  asid  tin; 
agricultural  population  generally,  united  under  the  the  singular  ap|)ellati()r 
of  "  Uebc(rca  and  her  daughters,"  for  the  avowed  object  cf  resisting  llic 
payment  of  turnpike  tolls,  which  were  notoriously  exorbitant  there,  am 
for  the  abatement  of  certain  other  grievances — the  present  administratio: 
of  the  poor  laws  being  among  tlie  number— of  whicii  they  loudly  and  wit!: 
no  little  show  of  justice  complained.  Scarcely  a  niglit  was  suflercd  lo 
pass  without  the  removal  of  a  gate  or  the  doinolition  of  a  toll-liouse  ;  an^! 
it  usually  happened  that  as  soon  as  the  work  of  destruction  was  cou)- 
pleted,  llebeeca's  band  quietly  and  stealtiiily  dispersinl  to  their  respective 
homes.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  give  merely  oik;  instance  of  these;  riots; 
but  we  should  remark  that  the  riot  we  here  subjoin  an  account  of,  was 
on  a  much  larger  scale,  and  attended  with  more  serious  results,  llian  anv 
that  occurred  either  before  or  since  : — They  were  expected  to  attack  the 
town  of  Carmarthen  on  Sunday  the  18th  of  June,  but  did  not  come.  Ou 
the  following  mornino,  however,  at  12  o'clock,  several  thousand  of  the 
rioters  were  seen  approaching,  about  nine  hundred  being  on  horseback, 
with  one  in  front  disguised  with  a  woman's  curls,  to  represent  Rebecca, 
and  from  seven  to  eight  thousand  on  foot,  walking  about  fourteen  or  fif- 
teen abreast.  Every  man  was  armed  with  a  bUidgiou,  and  some  of  them 
had  pistols.  At  their  head  wore  carried  two  banners,  bearing  inscriptions 
in  NVclsh,  of  "  Freedom,  Liberty,  and  Better  Feed;"  and  "  Free  Toll  and 
Liberty."  On  reachiujg  the  work-house,  they  broke  open  the  gates  of  the 
court  in  front,  and  having  gained  an  entrance  into  the  house,  they  imme- 
diately demolished  the  furniture,  and  threw  the  beds  and  bedding  out  of 
the  windows.  While  they  were  thus  pursuing  the  work  of  destruction  a 
troop  of  the  4th  light  dragoons  arrived  from  Neath,  and  having  entered 
the  court  succeeded  in  taking  all  those  within  prisoners,  about  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  in  number,  during  which  time  they  were  pelted  with  stones 
and  other  missiles.  The  riot  act  being  read,  and  a  cry  being  raised  that 
the  soldiers  were  going  to  charge,  the  mob  fled  in  every  direction,  leaving 
more  than  sixty  horses,  besides  the  above  prisoners,  in  the  hands  of  the 
captors. 

With  respect  to  the  proceedings  in  parliament,  a  great  portion  of  the 
session  was  occupied  in  opposing  the  "  Irish  arms  bill."  On  the  seconil 
reading,  May  the  20th,  the  attorney-general  for  Ireland  declared  tliat  the 
objects  of  the  present  repeal  agitators  were,  firsts  tlie  total  abolition  of  tlie 
litlies  commutation  rent-charge  ;  next,  the  extension  of  the  parliamentary 
suffrage  to  all  sane  male  adults  not  convicted  of  a  crime ;  next,  fixity  ol 
lenure — a  phrase  meaning  the  transfer  of  the  whole  landed  properly  of 
Ireland  from  the  landlord  to  the  tenant ;  and  some  other  extreme  projxj- 


760 


TniT  TIlKASUllY  OF  HISTORY. 


Bilious  of  llio  samr-  c-luss.  Tlio  nirasurrs  providcil  by  lliis  bill  liarl  boon 
in  exisl(!iicr'  witb  liltb'  intermission  for  almost  a  (.'ciiliiry,  and  tlio  cxtrcinn 
avidity  sbcwn  by  th''  Irisb  peasantry  for  the  possession  of  arms  proved 
its  necessity  to  be  most  nrirent.  For  about' a  moiitii,  almost  every  alter- 
nale  cvenini?  was  oeciipied  with  discussions  in  committee  on  the  said 
bill.  Afterwards  a  motion  was  brought  forward  by  Mr.  O'Urien  for  "  thn 
rearess  of  grievances  in  Ireland,"  the  debate  on  which  was  aj^ain  and 
a<jain  adjourned,  till  at  lenijth  the  motion  was  iieijatived.  On  thatoeea- 
Bion,  Sir  Robert  Peel  diseussod  the  alledirpfl  irrievances  scrinlim;  and  in 
reply  to  an  observation  of  Ijord  (lowick's,  be  taid  that  the  Roman  catho- 
lies  now  enjoyed  equal  civil  rifjhis  with  the  other  subjects  of  the  crown,  and 
that  the  oaths  were  so  altered  that  the  olTensive  portions  relating  to  iraii- 
substantiation  were  abolished.  "lam  asked,"  said  the  rig-ht  honourabjp. 
baronet,  "  what  courso  I  intend  to  pursue?  '  Declare  your  course,' is  the 
demand.  I  am  prepared  to  pursue  that  course  which  I  consider  I  have 
pursued,  namely,  to  administer  the  government  of  Ireland  upon  the  prin- 
ciples of  justice  and  impartiality.  I  am  prepared  to  recognize  the  princi- 
ple established  by  law,  that  there  shall  be  equality  of  civil  privileges.  I 
am  prepared  in  respect  of  the  franchise  to  give  a  substantial  and  not  a 
fictitious  right  of  sufTrage.  In  respect  to  the  social  conditioh  of  Irelaivl 
we  are  prepared  also  to  consider  the  rrlalions  of  landlord  and  tenant  de- 
liberately, and  all  the  important  questions  involved  therein.  With  respect 
to  the  established  church,  we  are  not  prepared  to  make  one  alteration  in 
the  law  by  which  that  church  and  its  revenues  shall  be  impaired.  He 
was  not  ashamed  to  act  with  care  and  moderation  ;  and  if  the  necessity 
should  arise,  he  knew  that  past  forbearance  was  the  strongest  claim  to 
being  entrusted  with  fuller  powers  when  they  thought  proper  to  ask  for 
them."  On  the  nth  of  August,  the  third  reading  of  the  Iri.sh  arms  bill  was 
carried  by  a  majority  of  sixty-six.  Parliament  was  prorogued  on  the  Ulih 
August  by  the  queen  in  person;  on  which  occasion  her  majesty  expressed 
herself  highly  gratified  with  the  advantageous  position  in  vvliieh  the 
country  was  placed  by  the  successful  termination  of  the  war  in  China  and 
India,  and  with  the  assurances  of  perfect  amity  which  she  continued  to 
receive  from  foreign  powers. 

A.  D.  1844. — The  events  of  this  year  are  so  recent  as  to  require  but 
slight  notice.  The  Irish  state  trials,  resuliing  in  the  imprisonment  and 
subsequent  pardon  of  Daniel  O'Connell  and  his  associate  traversers,  are 
familiar  to  all. — The  visit  of  the  emperor  of  Russia  to  Queen  Victoria,  as 
well  as  her  trip  to  France.  Belgium,  <tec.,  and  the  return  of  her  majesty's 
visit  by  Louis  Philippe  (after  an  absence  of  quarter  of  a  century  from  the 
shores  of  Britain)  may  be  chronicled  as  events  something  more  than 
commonplace. — The  birth  of  another  prince,  in  August,  who  was  chris- 
tened Alfred  Friiest  Albert,  is  also  of  sonic  importance. — In  the  same  year 
died,  in  London,  Sir  F.  Burdett,  aged  7i.,  of  whom  considerable  mention 
has  been  made  in  this  history. — About  the  same  time,  at  Bath,  died  Sir 
R.  S.-Fit/.gcrald,  vice-admiral  of  the  red.— At  Bothwell  castle,  Seotlaiul, 
Lord  Donglass,  aged  71. — .^nd  in  or  near  London,  the  lords  Say  &  Seal, 
Grafton,  Keane,  &c. 

A.  D.  1845. — The  year  commenced  auspiciously.  The  queen's  openina 
address  to  the  bouses  of  parliament,  declared  her  entire  satisfaction  with 
the  aspect  of  affairs,  both  domestic  and  foreign.  Farming  interests,  niaii- 
jfacturcs,  and  trade,  were  in  a  sound  and  flourishing  condition;  and  the 
country  at  large  was  now  reaping  the  wholesome  fruits  of  a  universal 
peace.  Death,  however,  in  the  first  three  months  of  the  year,  cut  down 
lords  Mornington,  Aston,  and  VVynford,  the  marquess  of  Westminster, 
and  Rev.  Sidney  Smith — the  last  named  gentleman  being  distinguished 
as  one  of  the  clearest  and  best  of  British  writers,  as  well  as  a  powerful 
y.'t  unpretending  advocate  of  humanity. 


i- 


2lih 


I 


